#she has fun bothering him. he continues to pretend it DOES bother him because if he lets on she will stop
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skecherss · 1 year ago
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and baby, Bruce is getting sunburned
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iamnotoriginalphil · 8 months ago
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Shadows and Light (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)
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Synopsis: Agatha shouldn't want you. But she does. She wants you so much. If only she'd let herself have you.
Words: 5.2k
Warnings: Alcohol, self loathing, mentions of blood, angst, one bed trope, fuck you everyone lives
She couldn’t believed she’d allowed this to happen. It was inconceivable, even more so because she hadn’t noticed it happening. It had crept up on her.
You, with your wide eyes and easy smile, hair that shone, laughter that was like a bell ringing, you were everything she was not. Soft and sweet and nice. Kind. It would be disgusting if you hadn’t managed to charm her the way you charmed the rest of them.
Sitting back in her chair, nursing a glass of wine, she watched as you spun in the firelight. Dancing around the bonfire, bare feet kicking up leaves, you were a picture to watch. You were signing along, your voice clear and bright, melding with the other voices of the coven. You grasped both of Billy’s hands in yours, spinning with him in the flickering light.
The way he laughed was full of delight. You were grinning, tugging him closer as you sang, as free as she’d ever seen you. The weight had lifted and you were easier. Your head tipped back as you drank in the moonlight up above and she had to do her best not to reach out and sink her teeth into the long column of your neck. Your skirt twirled around your calves, flashes of skin in the firelight making her fingers clench.
You fell away from Billy, arms raising as you spun, such a pretty picture in the moonlight. Lilia’s arm curled around your waist, snatching you up in the dance and you went willingly. You were always so easy, so happy to give in to the whims of others, to fulfill their desires.
She wondered what would happen is she whispered her desires into your ear.
She could just imagine the look of disgust that would pass over your delicate features. The way you’d flinch back and begin to avoid her. The whispers she’d overhear about how there was something wrong with her. The confirmation she was everything anyone had ever called her.
She lent back, draining the last of her wine as she watched you, spinning and laughing and so free. So comfortable in your own body. So sure of yourself. Your head turned and even in the shadows, you found her. You smiled, so big and bright and beautiful and her heart squeezed in her chest like you’d reached through her ribcage and grasped it in your bare hand.
It was fucking pathetic.
“If you stare any harder you might set her on fire.”
She didn’t bother turning to look as Rio settled into the chair positioned beside hers. You’d been sitting in it earlier, rambling on about your plan for the garden you’d be planting this week. The cadence of your voice had been soothing after the day she’d had. There was something about it that always helped ground her back into the present, rather than plans spiralling out of control.
“I can understand your fascination,” Rio continued, “it’s not often we meet a witch so saccharine. And it’s genuine. When was the last time you met someone with no facade?”
“Everyone has facades,” she replied, automatic, uncaring if it was true or not.
“Not her.”
Rio tipped her beer towards you, drawing Agatha’s gaze back to you. Your hand was on Jen’s, twirling her, your arm curling around her waist as you did a clumsy waltz around the fire, out of time with the music and uncaring.
“If we teamed up I’m sure we could ruin her,” Rio said, voice a purr, “tear her apart, find out what makes her tick, make it so no one can put Humpty together again.”
“Stop it,” she said, not caring if her harsh voice gave away more than she usually would. There was no point pretending around Rio.
“We’d have so much fun playing with her,” she said, putting thoughts in Agatha’s mind of what she could do with you.
“Don’t,” she said, firmer, refusing to let her continue.
“Well, sweetheart, if you want to play with her, you might want to get a wriggle on or someone else will get there first.”
Rio dragged her gaze over to you significantly. Her head snapped up. Your fingers had wound with Jen’s, no longer dancing but swaying as you whispered together. Your face was so open and you were dazzling. It was incomprehensible that anyone could survive under that gaze without falling for you.
No wonder she’d had no chance.
The sharp jab of jealousy was familiar, tart and metallic in her mouth. She wanted to stop watching, didn’t want to see you fall under someone else’s spell, but feeling the inevitability of it. There was no possibility you were going to find joy in the darkness she knew she was made up of. But she couldn’t look away. She could never look away from you.
She sat with her churning gut, stewing in it. Normally, if this was someone else, she’d do something to lash out, to bring attention to back to herself, to remind everyone of her existence. Under your sunshine, she found herself shrinking back. It was infuriating and left her feeling as if she was on the back foot, unbalanced and unsure of herself. It was a new, if familiar, feeling and she hated it.
You fell into the grass beside Alice, head coming to rest on her shoulder. She passed you the bottle of beer she’d been drinking from, letting you sate your thirst. With your free hand you were pointing up at the stars, pointing something out in the night sky to her.
When Rio dropped down beside you, her jaw clenched.
She watched, a line drawn taut, as Rio’s fingers gently wound themselves through the ends of your hair. Your head rolled towards her, your smile stretching just a bit. With sure fingers, you gently tugged on the pocket of her jacket. Angling your body, you shifted to lean against Alice as your feet rested against Rio’s thigh.
Agatha felt like she was burning.
Lilia dropped down in your huddle and you automatically reached out, hand twining with hers. She watched the soft sigh that parted your lips, the way you relaxed, your eyes fluttering shut. She ached to be in the pile with you, to feel your muscles soften along the lines of her body, your weight sinking into her. She wanted to drag you away, to keep you all to herself, but even in the haze of her own anger she knew you wouldn’t appreciate it. That you liked being one part of a bigger whole. That you thrived with a coven. That you needed something she hadn’t let herself want for a very long time.
She squeezed her eyes closed, tipping her head upwards, taking a long slow breath in.
She didn’t open them again someone dropped into the seat beside her. Squinting them open, she’d expected Rio back. Instead, your soft smile greeted her, knees pulled up, chin resting on them as you tilted towards her.
“Tonight’s been good,” you sweet voice said, “have you enjoyed yourself, Aggie?”
“Aggie?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Do you not like it?” Your eyes widened and she saw the worry swimming in them, “sorry, I don’t have to-“
“It’s fine,” she interrupted, waving her hand. On your lips, the nickname was spun sugar, her heart beating double time.
“Have you though?” you asked, “enjoyed yourself?”
You reached out, your finger gently curling around a strand of her hair. Your lips parted and you looked at her from under lowered lashes, such hope in your face.
“You sure know how to throw a party,” she said, the way you were looking at her making up for the churning in her stomach.
The pleased tilt to your chin and the brightening of your eyes had her feeling like a live wire. You lent closer, the arm of the chair digging into your body as if you wanted to be close the distance between the two of you. She wondered if the arms weren’t present if you’d climb into her lap. She liked the thought of it.
“Are you going to stay tonight? Only it’s late and if you don’t want to drive you can. Lilia and Jen have already said they will and Billy…” You glanced back towards your house, “he passed out on the couch about an hour ago. I texted Eddie to let him know.”
“Not Rio or Alice?” she asked, the corner of her lips pulling up.
“Alice drove Shannon home and Rio did that thing where she just kind of disappears. If you don’t want to stay that’s okay but there’s space for you,” you said, fingers weaving together like you were anxious, like her answer mattered to you.
She reached out, placing her hand over yours, stopping you from twisting them to the point of breaking.
“I’ll stay,” she said.
You lit up like a goddess damned Christmas tree. Her heart stuttered, stumbling over itself and she cursed the day she’d met you. This was getting ridiculous. She wasn’t some mooney eyed teenager with a crush. She was Agatha Harkness; Witch Killer. You were nothing. No one.
It was amazing how she’d grown so used to lying to herself.
“Okay, but I only have one guest room. So we’re all going to have to share with someone. Do you have a preference?” you asked, rushing over the words.
She definitely had a preference.
“Will any of you be comfortable enough to be so vulnerable around me?” she asked.
“If you kill me in my sleep I’ll haunt you,” you said, “and I can be very annoying. You’ll never get a moment of peace again.”
She would happily spend eternity haunted by you. She had to get a grip. This was just unseemly.
“Then I suppose you know my preference,” she said.
She watched you stand up, bare toes digging into the grass. You held a hand out to her. She stared blankly.
“You take it,” you said, sounding amused.
She took it.
Bare skin brushing together, sending electricity running over her body from her palm. Staring for a moment, she couldn’t quite comprehend the way it looked, your fingers and hers knotted together. You tugged her out of her seat, breaking the moment of confusion from her brain. She was ready for you to pull away, but all you did was lead her back towards the house, hands swinging through the air. Why did it feel like the world had shrunk to that tiny point of contact?
“Are you guys good to share?” you asked as you entered the kitchen.
“We have to share a bed?” Jen asked.
You let go of Agatha’s hand and she had to bite back the disappointment. Your own arm slid around Jen’s waist, leaning into her as you blinked up at her. Lilia was staring at her, an assessing look on her face. Agatha looked back, not sure what she was seeing.
“There’s only two bed so unless you want to sleep on the floor, it’s you and Lilia, and me and Agatha,” you said.
“Good luck with that,” Jen said.
“You know, one day, and I’m not saying it’ll be today, but one day you’re going to have to admit you actually like her,” you said, “we’re a coven, a sisterhood. We belong together and to one another. Even Agatha.”
You looked over to her and she felt frozen in place. She wasn’t used to people talking about her that way. Like she was one of the team.
“Yes, well, if the feeling portion of the night is done, I wouldn’t mind retiring for the night,” she said, placing her empty wine glass down on the counter, trying to move past the rough squeezing in her chest.
“Course,” you said, “c’mon.”
You practically skipped out of the room. Billy was on the couch in your living room, his soft snores surprisingly endearing. Someone had laid a blanket over him. She could guess who. She hated that it made her feel something squishy in her chest.
“Locked the door,” Lilia said, pausing on the stairs.
“Yeah, it’s locked,” you said over your shoulder to her, “don’t worry.”
Lilia shook her head, seemingly coming back to the moment.
At the top of the stairs, you pointed to the door of the guest bedroom and the bathroom. And then the door to your bedroom was closing and she was locked in with you. You didn’t even stop to consider her, moving around the room like nothing was out of the ordinary.
“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” you said, “I have stuff if you don’t want to sleep in your clothes.”
She took the offered clothes, your hand brushing over hers. The door to the ensuite closed and she let out a long breath. She forced herself to get a grip over herself. Dragging the clothes over her body, she looked at herself in the mirror. It would do for sleep, but she hardly wanted anyone seeing her like this. They were soft and your perfume clung to the material and it was like being wrapped in your arms. No one should be able to see the expression on her face.
“Don’t worry, you look great. Just like always.”
She startled, not having heard you exit the bathroom. In your tank top and shorts, she was having difficulty looking at you straight on. If she did, she knew it would only end in trouble. Self control wasn’t one of her strong suits. Especially around you.
“If you’re not comfortable in them, I guess I can find something else for you to wear, but I’m not sure I really have anything that’s more to your taste,” you said, your worry palpable.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Okay.”
You paused in front of her, fingers brushing over the back of her hands, featherlight and so soft. Her shoulders relaxed and she looked down at you properly. You were so small, so delicate, a harsh wind would snap you in half. In her hands, you’d have no chance.
Pushing up onto your toes, your fingers brushed over her throat and she had to physically stop herself from shivering. You dropped back down, smiling up at her like she’d made all your dreams come true.
“Left or right side?” you asked.
In the dark, it was so much worse. You seemed to have no issue curling up beside her. Your hand had reached blindly through the dark, fingers tangling with hers, a soft sigh on your lips when you found her. Your face was turned towards her, eyes closed, eyelashes resting on your cheeks. She found herself staring, not able to stop herself, tracing your features with her eyes, yearning to reach out and touch.
She couldn’t trust herself around you.
Muscles clenched, she tried to stay vigilant through the night, refusing to let herself relax. The moment she did, she was certain she would do something to you, something beyond her control, something to ruin you. Only, after some time, once she was certain you were asleep, you rolled over, face pressing into her shoulder, curling into her body. It was what she’d been hoping for, and yet it set off all kinds of fight or flight responses in her body.
She turned her head away from you, closing her eyes, doing her best not to feel the warmth of you against her, the ghost of your breath on her skin, your hand in hers. You pressed closer, seeking out her warmth. It all ached so much.
She tore her hand from yours, rolling over, refusing to give in. She knew she couldn’t listen to that voice inside of her, the one telling her to take what she wanted. Every time she did, someone got hurt and she wasn’t going to let it hurt you.
Your arm curled around her waist, bringing your body closer, aligning yourself with her. She froze. Mumbling something, your lips brushed the skin of her neck, tightening your arm around her. You threw your leg over her, keeping her in your embrace, refusing to let her go even as she tried to wriggle away.
“Sleep, Aggie,” you mumbled, “it’s bedtime.”
She stilled again. You let out a contented hum, burying your face against her. You softened again, muscles relaxing. She squeezed her eyes shut, winding her fingers through yours, holding them to her stomach. Maybe letting herself have this for one night wouldn’t be so bad. She could stop again in the morning and everything would be okay.
One night. She’d give herself one night. And then she’d let you go.
Cracking her eyes open in the morning light, she groaned. She buried her face in the soft hair in front of her, breathing in the floral perfume that she knew clung to your skin. You pushed back against her, melting into the mattress. Her fingers brushed over the soft skin of your stomach. The little noise you made was addictive enough that she did it again.
“Aggie,” you sighed, soft and sweet and delicious.
First thing in the morning, your voice was deeper, lower, a little raspy. She wanted to luxuriate in it, make you speak soliloquies just to hear it. Her arms tightened around you, practically crushing you to her.
“Agatha,” you murmured, almost a moan. She liked that.
If her fingers slipped down, found the heat between your legs, she would be able to hear you moan properly. If she tasted you, she could get you to moan so loudly it would be burned into her brain. If she fucked you deeply into the mattress she could make it so you never stopped moaning.
She couldn’t do any of that.
Dragging her arms from around you, she ignored the chill that went through her. She’d had her one night. She’d slept deeply and well, and now it was time to return to real life.
She lay back, considering getting up, slipping out of the bed and getting dressed and finding coffee. Your ceiling stared back at her, mocking her as she lay in indecision in your bed. The covers tugged and she was reminded of how close you still were, curled up in sleep, soft and vulnerable. Perfect for digging her nails in and shaping you how she wanted.
Only she wanted you exactly how you were. She wanted you soft and gentle and vulnerable. She wanted you with your open heart and wide eyes and trusting nature. She wanted every smile, every flutter of eyelashes, every giggle. She was greedy and she knew she hungered for something she would never have, a hunger she wasn’t sure she could ever satiate. She was every dark thought and every monster, and she would corrupt you, ruin you, rot you from the inside out.
And yet she wanted with such wild abandon she couldn’t stop.
She pushed up, sitting, ready to swing her legs out of the bed and retreat before she did something she regretted. Rio was right. All she brought was destruction and she couldn’t destroy you. It would destroy her.
Warm fingers curled around her wrist and she froze. You were blinking up at her, wide eyes still soft with sleep but the corners of your lips were pulled down. She was already ruining you.
“Where are you going?” you asked.
Your other hand rubbed at your eyes, wiping the sleep from them. Her heart gave an extra hard beat, almost slamming in her chest.
“Were you going to slip out without saying goodbye?” you asked when she didn’t answer, sounding lost and hurt and she hated herself in that moment more than she ever had before.
You were still lying back, hair spread over the pillow, looking perfect for her to ruin. Her lips could paint such pretty pictures on your skin. She could make those wide eyes glaze over as you moaned her name. You would be hers if she let herself have you.
“You were.” You pouted, “you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”
You sat up and she had to drag her gaze away from the way the neckline of your tank top dipped, showing swathes of skin she wanted to bury herself in. Turning her head away, she tried not to show the way she felt heat creeping up her cheeks.
Because she was looking away, she had no chance to avoid it when you swung one leg over her and deposited yourself in her lap.
“That’s not very nice, Aggie. I bet you weren’t even going to leave a note,” you said.
Your hands were on her shoulders, winding into her hair, tugging her closer and all she could think of was how nice the weight of you in her lap felt. Her fingers clenched in the sheets, keeping from touching you. She was worried if she started then she’d never stop.
You weren’t making this easy on her.
You were still liquid warmth from sleep, pressing closer, those wide eyes eating her alive. You were still pouting and you were so close and all she wanted to do was close the distance and claim you. To let your warmth consume her until she was on fire.
“That’s so mean,” you said, fingertips dragging over her cheekbones, brushing the pulse in her neck, pushing just under the neckline of the shirt she’d borrowed.
“I am mean,” she said, forcing the words past her lips.
“No you’re not.” You shook your head, hair flying around your face, “you pretend to be but you’re not really.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, not able to meet your eye.
Your fingers gripped her hair, right at the roots, fists clenching until it pulled. She looked up into your face, finding something fierce there. It looked wrong on your face and yet so very right.
“I do. I do know. You pretend you’re this big scary monster who snatches children in the night but you’re not. You’re busy protecting a gooey centre that could break so easily.” Your fingers tightened in her hair. She hissed from the pain, “you care, Agatha Harkness. You care so much sometimes I think it scares you.”
“I don’t-“
You cut her off before she could say more than that.
“I see you, Aggie. Every part of you. And you’re wonderful.”
Your lips pressed to hers, rough and insistent, not the gentle brush she’d always imagined. You pressed closer, knees digging into her as they held her in place, fingers in her hair tugging and pulling. She was a live wire, caught under you, a hurricane going through her because of you. You pressed closer, nipping at her lip.
When she kissed you back, you sighed, melting against her. How could she not kiss you back, when you made such a pleased noise in the back of your throat as she did? You were a force of nature and she was merely a speck, destined to bow to you in all your might. Her hands grasped your hips, keeping you there with her, feeling how warm your skin was through the thin cotton of your shorts.
She fell back, dragging you with her, your lips finding their home on her skin. Wet, open mouthed kisses down the column of her neck turned her head fuzzy. She could drown in you, in the tsunami of her feelings for you, in the downpour of desperation she felt. Your tongue tasted her skin and you moaned, almost too quiet to be heard, muffled in her skin.
Her fingers pushed up past your shirt, seeking out the warm skin. There was much of it, swathes of it, all of it unexplored by her touch. An explorer with the sweetest of expeditions before her. You pressed closer, shivering, nose skimming along her jaw.
“Aggie,” you whispered, practically a whimper, pressing down on her.
Her hands kept creeping higher, before she dragged her nails down again. Your teeth nipped at her skin and the surprised laugh that came from her jolted her out of the moment.
“Stop,” she said, ripping her hands from your body, “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
You sat up and a frustrated look passed over your face. She stayed reclined on the pillows, every inch of her warring with her self control. Your hair was mussed, lips kiss stung, eyes bright. All she wanted was to ravage you, to paint her name behind your ribs and burn herself into your skin. You were a step away from being indecent.
“I see the way you look at me. I know how you feel about it me. It throbs through you,” you said, fingertips on her jaw, on her cheeks over her nose, “it’s a living heartbeat, your want for me.”
“Stop.”
Her fingers curled around your wrists, so delicate her hands became handcuffs easily. She dragged your hands from her, looking up, her chest caving in. You lent down, eyes seeking her out, refusing to let her wriggle out of this moment with her.
“I want you so much it’s like I’m being eaten alive,” you whispered, your hair brushing her skin, your eyes imploring, your lips sweets as they spilled saccharine secrets.
“I can’t,” she said again.
“Why not?” you asked and tears gathered in your eyes like jewels.
“I destroy everything I touch,” she said, her thumb brushing away a glittering tear before it could fall. Another fell in its place.
“No, Aggie,” you moaned, “you don’t destroy. You make. You made us. We were just a group of people and you made us into a coven.”
“I don’t know what it means to have a coven,” she said, looking away.
“You do.” Your forehead pressed against hers, eyes squeezed closed, breath hitching, “you yearn for one so fiercely it burns.”
“Stop doing that,” she said.
The hands still curled around your wrists shoved you away. You fell back, a mess of hair and tears and bare skin and she’d never wanted to tear you apart but you had cracked open her chest and all she could think about was getting her claws deep into your flesh until she was part of you. She refused to see she already was.
“Stop reading me,” she snapped.
“You shout.” You sniffled, “you’re so loud around me I can’t help it.”
She turned away, passing her hand over her face, surprised when it came away wet. She didn’t stop you as you curled your arms around her waist, face buried between her shoulder blades.
“Please, Aggie. Don’t deny yourself this. I’m yours, willingly and completely. You could never destroy me. You’d never let yourself,” you said, muffled in her shirt. She could feel your lips move with every word.
“You don’t know what I’ve done,” she said.
“I don’t need to. I only need to know what you will do. And I trust you,” you whispered.
She turned, dislodging you. Your fingers twisted in your lap and she wanted to rip them from your body and she wanted to suck on them and she wanted to feel them run all over her body. You blinked and your lips parted and you were the picture of innocence. How could she mar you? How could she let herself ruin your perfection?
“You shouldn’t,” she said.
“You won’t break me by holding on too tight. I want you to hold on tight. Even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts. You don’t understand what it’s like. How I crave you,” you said, “sometimes I think I can only breathe when you’re around. That I’m holding my breath until I see you again.”
“You can’t mean that,” she said, her heart eviscerated at your words.
“I do.” Your hands clutched hers, “I do.”
You were looking at her, such wide eyes, swimming with emotion and she remembered the way you kissed her. Not soft and gentle and safe, but like you would die if you stopped. The desperation was all yours. You held on and refused to let go. Your teeth sunk in. You fought dirty for what you wanted.
“Please, Aggie,” you whispered, fingertips on her cheek again, catching her tears, gaze slipped down to her lips, “let me have you.”
Who needed self control?
She launched herself at you, sending you sprawling over the mattress. The kiss was bruising, demanding, taking ruthlessly. She was thrown on her back, you climbing on top again, fingernails dragging over her skin. Your knees dug in, poking into her soft vulnerable places. You didn’t give her time to breathe, suffocating her with your kisses. But what a delicious way to go.
“Oi.”
A fist slammed into the bedroom door. You startled, sitting up, looking beautifully mussed. She dragged her nails up your thighs and she felt you quiver.
“Are you still alive in there?” Jen called through the door.
“Yeah,” you called, breathless and squirming above her.
“Good.”
The door was pushed open, two nosey witched peering in. Your fingers wrapped themselves in Agatha’s hair, mouth falling open before it snapped shut.
“We, uh…” You turned your eyes down to her. She ran her fingers over the skin of your thigh. Your eyelashes fluttered.
“Oh god,” Jen said.
“You should have-“ Lilia said before cutting off without finishing the sentence.
“Locked the door,” you murmured, eyes squeezing shut.
Your teeth sunk into your lower lip. She yearned to do that herself, to feel the thin skin split, your blood coating her tongue. But then your shoulders were shaking and she realised you were trying not to laugh. You tipped, falling off her, burying your face in the pillow to stifle it as best you could. She glowed, the sound of your giggles pure sunshine running through her veins. She reached a hand out, stroking over your hair.
“No wonder you wanted to share beds,” Jen said, “you were having fun while I spent the night being kicked by Lilia.”
“Next time I’ll take Lilia and you can have Agatha,” you said, emerging, bright and joyful, the tears gone. No, now you were practically shining.
“I’m good,” she replied.
You climbed out of the bed and Agatha had to clench her fingers to keep from reaching out and pulling you back into her embrace. You extended a hand to her, lacing your fingers with her and pulling her with more strength than she’d thought you had.
“Breakfast,” you said, “I’m gonna cook you guys so many pancakes.”
Passing Lilia, Agatha in tow, you brushed your fingers over the back of her hand. You tapped Jen on the nose as you passed and you beamed. Agatha found her own lips curling up in a smile, heart thudding in her chest, the monster in her chest purring.
“My coven,” you said, voice pure happiness, “how I love you.”
Maybe the truth was there were no shadows without light. And maybe you were fierce enough to keep her from destroying you. Maybe you, with your wide eyes and easy smile and soft touches, would destroy her. And maybe she was okay with that.
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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 6 months ago
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omg girl pretty please was perfect, need a part two with more spice
here it is, with a lot more spice, so be warned! 🔞
pretty please | pablo gavi [part 2]
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🧁 synopsis: Pablo and you decide to turn your friendly casual hook-ups into a "no-strings-attached" arrangement – it sounds like the perfect plan: easy, fun, and uncomplicated. If only he weren’t so annoyingly impossible. tags: friends with benefits, banter, dirty talking, smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 3k words)
you can read the first part here
Your friends are spilling out of cars, shouting directions, arguing about who almost missed the turn, and debating who owes who gas money. You climb out of the backseat of your friend’s car, smoothing down your dress as you walk toward the restaurant.
Pablo is leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed like he’s trying to blend in. But the second you step out, his eyes lock on you, and he starts making a beeline straight for you.
“Hey, what’s with the dress?” he asks, his voice sharp enough to cut through the parking lot noise.
You blink at him, playing dumb. “What about it?”
He stops just short of crowding you, his eyes dragging over the vintage Versace. His expression gives away nothing, but you can tell he’s trying not to combust. He knows exactly what you’re doing, but you also try to keep your expression neutral, as if you’re completely oblivious to how short, how tight, and how ridiculous this dress is.
You borrowed it from your mom without asking. She would absolutely kill you if she knew, but as long as there aren’t any pictures, you figure you’re safe.
“You know exactly what about it.”
“No, I don’t.” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “You have something against fashion, Pablito?”
His jaw tightens, and you swear he mutters something under his breath. You’re having too much fun to care.
“Seriously, though,” you continue, twirling the hem of the dress between your fingers. “You don’t think it’s cute?”
“Cute?” He scoffs, looking around to make sure none of your friends are within earshot. “It’s... distracting.”
None of your friends know what the two of you do behind closed doors. To everyone else, you’re just two close friends, which makes it even funnier when they try to set you up.
It’s become a running joke between you and Gavi, the two of you playing along just enough to make them think they’re onto something.
You can’t help but grin. “Distracting for who?”
“For me,” he hisses, glaring at you like it’s your fault.
“Oh, well, I didn’t realize I had to run my wardrobe choices by you.” You shrug, pretending to think. “Maybe next time I’ll wear something really distracting.”
“Don’t even –”
“Come on, Pablito,” you cut him off, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the entrance. “People are waiting, and you’re being weird. Let’s go.”
His steps falter, but he follows, muttering as he lets you pull him along. “I’m not being weird.”
“Relax,” you say, turning to flash him a grin. “If it’s really bothering you, maybe you should sit on the other side of the table.”
He stops walking, staring at you like you’ve just personally challenged him to a duel. “Not a chance.”
“Suit yourself,” you sing, swinging open the restaurant door. Behind you, you hear him mutter something unintelligible – probably about how impossible you are – but he’s already following you in, like he always does.
part 2
Your group takes up the long table near the back and dinner starts out fine. Pablo, for reasons only he knows, has stationed himself at the far end of the table, so far away from you it feels intentional.
You figure it probably is.
It’s almost impressive, the way he’s managed to talk and gesture like everything’s normal, all while sneaking glances at you every few seconds. You know because you’ve been doing the exact same thing – watching him out of the corner of your eye as he fidgets with his glass, rubs the back of his neck, and very clearly struggles to keep his attention on the conversation in front of him.
You’re not trying to make things harder for him. Well... not exactly. Teasing him is fun, and you didn’t realize that was part of the deal when you started this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement. Apparently, it is, and it’s working better than you could’ve imagined.
The dress helps, of course.
By the time your friends start debating dessert orders, you notice Pablo’s grip on his fork is a little too tight. His jaw keeps ticking, and his eyes haven’t left you in what feels like minutes.
Then, out of nowhere, he blurts, “Oh, we need to go.”
The entire table falls silent, everyone looking at him in confusion.
“What?” one of your friends asks.
Pablo’s eyes are glued to you, panic flickering in them like he didn’t think this through. “We have that... thing,” he says, gulping hard. “With your brother.”
You nearly choke on your drink. His eyebrows are doing that wild thing they do when he’s embarrassed, and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing on the spot.
“Right,” you say smoothly, nodding. “Thanks for reminding me, Pablito.” You grab your bag, standing up with practiced calm. “Sorry, guys, we’re leaving. Can’t be late.”
Your friends barely react. You and Pablo leaving early isn’t exactly unusual – you’ve been practically glued at the hip since you met.
You pay your share of the check, wave goodbye, and make it all the way to his car before the composure you’ve been holding onto snaps.
As soon as the doors shut, you burst out laughing.
“With my brother?” you wheeze, clutching your stomach. “That’s the best you could come up with?”
Pablo glares at you, his ears turning pink. “Don’t.” His voice is low, trying for roughness, but it only makes you laugh harder.
“Oh my God, you looked like you were going to pass out.”
“I said don’t.” He leans back in his seat, covering his face with his hands, but you can see the faintest hint of a grin breaking through. “I can’t believe you did that.” 
You blink at him, “Did what?”
He scoffs before turning to glare at you. “You spent the entire dinner giving me that look.”
“What look?” you ask, trying not to grin.
His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks like he regrets saying anything. But then he mutters, “The look you have when you want to... you know.”
You burst out laughing, loud and uncontrollable as his ears turn pink.
“You’re insane!” you manage between laughs. “That’s totally a projection. You were the one who kept looking over at me.”
“Whatever,” he snaps, looking back at the road as he starts the car. “I’m taking you to mine.”
You’re still grinning, leaning your head back against the seat. “And what are we doing at your place, Pablo?”
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, and the smirk creeping onto his face says it all. “I don’t know,” he says casually, his tone a perfect imitation of innocence. “Play video games, maybe. That’s what we do, right?”
“Right,” you say, biting your lip to hold back another laugh. 
He’s not saying what he really wants, but he doesn’t have to. And the way his hand taps restlessly on the steering wheel tells you he’s not going to hold out much longer.
part 3
His bedroom door clicks shut behind you, and before you can even process what’s happening, Pablo is dropping to his knees.
“What are you doing?” you blurt out, genuinely taken aback.
He doesn’t answer right away, his hands already gliding down the sides of your thighs. His head tilts up briefly and you can see the faint flush creeping over his face. It’s not shame, it’s desire.
You’re tempted to say something snarky, to keep up the teasing game you started at dinner, but the way he looks at you – half-lidded, feverish – makes the words catch in your throat.
When his lips press against the curve of your leg, just above your knee, you feel your breath hitch. He trails soft kisses down, his touch so careful it sends shivers up your spine. 
“Pablo,” you say again, but this time it comes out quieter.
Still, he doesn’t respond, his hands sliding down to your ankles. When he finally reaches your feet, he pauses, looking up at you as if asking for permission – or maybe just enjoying the way you’re completely at his mercy.
“You’re so dramatic,” you mutter, trying to sound unaffected.
He smirks, the flush deepening on his cheeks as he carefully slides one of your heels off, then the other. “And you’re a brat,” he says, like it’s a compliment.
You’d almost feel bad for teasing him earlier. Almost.
But the way he’s looking at you now? Yeah, you don’t feel sorry at all.
Gavi stands up and you raise an eyebrow at him when he takes you completely by surprise. Before you can react, he hooks an arm around your waist and manhandles you up like you weigh nothing.
“Pablo!” you yelp, your legs kicking lightly in protest as he hauls you toward the bed.
“What?” he says, laughing as he effortlessly shifts you in his arms. 
“Put me down!” you demand, though the smile on your face betrays your annoyance.
“Okay,” he says, plopping you unceremoniously onto the mattress. You bounce once and he doesn’t follow immediately. Instead, he steps back, his dark eyes scanning over you. His head tilts slightly, his brow furrowing.
“You’re… hot,” he says finally.
You blink up at him, “You’re only noticing now?”
He moves closer, his hands skimming over the fabric of your dress. His fingers linger at the hem, then drift to the exposed skin of your thighs, your shoulders, the back of your neck – everywhere the dress doesn’t cover.
“No, I’m serious,” he says, his voice lower now, his focus entirely on you.
Before you can respond, his hands slide up to cup your face, holding you firmly, like he needs you to hear him. His thumbs brush against your cheekbones.
“You look really fucking hot right now,” he says, and there’s nothing teasing about the way he says it. 
You open your mouth to reply, but the words won’t come. You’re too distracted by the way he’s looking at you. So you don’t even think about it – you just grab his shirt and pull him down, kissing him hard. The kind of kiss that friends definitely shouldn’t be sharing. It’s reckless, fueled by everything he’s made you feel tonight, by all the times he’s told you not to overthink this, not to complicate things.
But this? This is the definition of complicated, and you don’t care.
At first, he freezes, like the force of your kiss has stunned him. Then his hands tighten on your face, and he kisses you back even harder.
His lips move against yours with a kind of desperation that makes your head spin, and his fingers slide into your hair, anchoring you to him. 
When he finally breaks the kiss, his hands are still cradling your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks like he can’t quite let go. His gaze drops, taking in every inch of you, and when he looks back up, there’s a determined gleam in his eyes.
“I’m not even taking the dress off,” he says, his voice low and sure as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
You giggle, shaking your head at him. “We can’t! My mom would kill me if I screwed up this dress.”
But Gavi just shakes his head, completely unfazed. “I’ll buy her another one.”
His shirt is off now, tossed somewhere behind him, and you’re caught between laughing at his confidence and being completely swept up in it.
“Oh, really?” 
“Really,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hands find your waist again, pulling you closer as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin.
You shake your head again, but this time it’s less about disbelief and more about the fact that you’re already giving in. 
He slides your lacy underwear off with deliberate care, and when he notices they match the color of your dress, he pauses for a beat, his eyes lingering. The corner of his mouth twitches before he does something you don’t expect – he places them right next to your face, on the pillow you’re lying on, his grip on them firm.
You laugh, the sound bubbling out. “You’re so weird.”
His lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn’t let it slide. “Stop calling me weird,” he mutters, biting your ear in retaliation before trailing down to your neck.
You shiver under his attention, but then he pulls back to focus on his next task – taking off his pants with a kind of urgency that’s kind of endearing. When he’s finally stripped nude, he stands in front of you, hands on his hips like he’s waiting for a round of applause.
“Tell me I’m hot,” he demands.
You shake your head, biting back another laugh. “What? No way.”
“Why not?” he asks, feigning offense as he moves closer. “Come on, say it.”
He leans in, peppering kisses across your cheek and jaw, his persistence both ridiculous and charming.
“You think your annoying best friend is hot, don’t you?” he whispers into your ear, his tone dropping just enough to make your pulse race. “And you want to sleep with me, don’t you?”
“Stop projecting your feelings onto me,” you argue, but your voice is breathy, already undone by his proximity. Your words would be more effective if you weren’t already moaning under his touch, two of his fingers going in and out inside of you, the softest sounds escaping you as his lips find yours again.
The room is filled with your unsteady breaths and the sounds you can’t quite keep contained, each one louder than the last. But then, out of nowhere, Gavi stills completely, his movements halting. He grabs your chin, tilting your face toward his. His expression is serious, annoyingly composed.
“I’m not letting you finish until you tell me I’m hot,” he says, like this is a perfectly reasonable demand to make at a time like this.
You glare at him, every nerve in your body screaming at the unfairness of it all. But it’s too late for you – you’ve already given up.
“You’re hot, okay?” you snap, your voice desperate and unfiltered. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with, so please, please just fuck me.”
For a second, he looks almost touched. And then, to your complete horror, he has the audacity to laugh.
“Jesus! Calm down, I’ll do it,” he says, his grin breaking through his mock seriousness.
You see red, slapping his hand away from your chin in pure frustration. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but before you can say more, he’s fingering you again, his hands steady and assured, and everything else fades away.
His hands and lips and teeth start exploring every inch of you with a passion that feels almost primal. He’s relentless, his mouth all over your skin, lingering on the parts of you he knows will make your breath hitch. The delicate fabric of your dress shifts under his hands, pushed and pulled as he reveals more of you, your breasts, your cunt, as he eats you out with a feral hunger.
You cum twice, his name falling from your lips. By the time he finally lifts his head from between your legs, his smile is smug, proud.
“I’ll give you what you asked for now,” he says, “What you begged me for.”
“Shut up,” you snap, your voice unsteady.
He laughs, brushing a strand of damp hair from your face. “You’re so mean to me,” he murmurs, shifting you gently to your side. His voice softens further as he positions himself behind you. “I always give you what you want, don’t I?”
You roll your eyes, your tone sharp even as your breath hitches. “Hurry up with the condom.”
“Do you want to put it on?”
“Yes…” you mutter, your fingers brushing against his as you take it from him.
When he finally enters you, it’s consciously slow, his lips pressing softly to your shoulder, shushing you as your breathing grows uneven again. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his pace quickens, the rhythm you find together is absolutely perfect.
As you sense him nearing his peak, you lean back slightly, your voice quiet but sure. “Cum in my mouth.”
Pablo groans loudly, a mix of gritted words spilling out. “Fuck, fuck.” He pulls away quickly, his breathing ragged. “That’s what you wanted all night, wasn’t it?” He’s breathless, his words edged with laughter. “You wanted to taste, wanted to – fuck, to eat my cum, fuck – nasty girl.”
He’s hasty and shaky now, completely lost in pleasure as his member fits perfectly in your mouth. He closes his eyes, moaning loudly as he finishes. In his hurry, he becomes careless, and a few drops land on your face, his eyes widen. Then, without missing a beat, he leans in to clean it off, his tongue brushing over your skin with an exaggerated gentleness that makes you giggle.
“What are you doing?” you laugh, but he shushes you, his focus entirely on his task.
“Fixing my mess,” he mutters, his lips trailing up to yours. He kisses you fiercely, sucking your tongue. It’s messy and uncoordinated, full of laughter and half-mumbled complaints.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes rake over you, and he groans dramatically. “Mierda, I’m hard again.”
You laugh, pushing at his chest. “You’re too horny!”
“Me?” he scoffs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you down effortlessly. “You came three times, and I didn’t hear you complaining then.”
You roll your eyes, already teasing him with your touch, one hand on his erect member, caressing him. “I’m tired now,” you say, your voice playful even as you keep up your antics.
“Tired?” he repeats, “No, no way. Give me another one.”
You stretch out lazily on the bed, making yourself comfortable. “Fine,” you say with a grin. “But I’m not doing any work this time. You’re on top.”
Gavi groans again, rolling his eyes. But the smile on his face says he’s more than ready to oblige.
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calaisreno · 1 year ago
Text
Couple
865 words / Prompt: Imperfect
“We’re not—” John begins, but realises the futility of saying it again. 
“You’re a lucky man.” Hopkins winks at him. “I’d make a play for him myself, but he’s obviously taken.”
He watches her walk away while he stands at the bar, waiting for another pint. She’s just the kind of woman he once would have hit on. A fun flirtation. 
Now he doesn’t have the energy. And he’s wondering when that happened.
Sherlock is watching him. 
He should be used to it by now. People always assume they’re a couple, and really, he doesn’t mind so much. He’s stopped saying he’s not gay because it’s misleading, and he would rather be honest. But it’s nobody’s fucking business who he is.
Sherlock must know. God, they’ve known each other for years, lived together for months now, since he and Rosie moved back. They’re practically co-parenting, and often exchange the same weary look that only the parents of a toddler can wear. 
But Sherlock looks sad, he thinks. If John is honest with himself, he’s a bit worried that Sherlock is tired of the John-and-Rosie show, the trail of destruction Rosie leaves everywhere she toddles. The cases always used to bring them together, and now, even if they have a babysitter, John’s often too exhausted to go out with him. 
Even this, a night out with the Yarders, Rosie at home with Mrs Hudson, is less fun than John had hoped. Sherlock doesn’t care for pub nights, but he tags along because John presses him to be more social. 
He moves towards Sherlock, who’s sitting on the periphery of the noisy group. People don’t socialise with him much. Even the women who look at him with appreciation give up after a brief exchange. Sherlock can manage social occasions when necessary, but he’s clearly wishing he were somewhere else.
He slides into the seat opposite. “I’m glad you came.” 
“Why?” Sherlock gives him a sharp look. “So I could watch Lestrade’s team get pissed?”
“No, I’m glad because… I like being with you.”
Sherlock’s eyebrows rise. He gives an amused huff. “You live with me.”
“Yeah, I do. But at home there’s always some mess to clean up or Rosie to deal with. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t your favourite thing.”
“I don’t mind.” His mouth curves into a smile. “I like being with you, too.” 
John nods, takes a swallow of beer. “Stella was just making the usual assumption. We look like a couple. And I was wondering, are we?”
“Are we a couple?” Sherlock’s face does something complicated: surprise, discomfort, and then careful indifference. “People are idiots.”
“I don’t care about people. I care about you. Does it bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?”
“Because you don’t… I know you care about me and Rosie, but you don’t do…” The word is on the tip of John’s tongue, but he’s looking into Sherlock’s eyes, feeling completely obvious.
“Romance,” Sherlock says. “It’s a medieval construct, John, an idealisation of a reality that is often messy and contentious. People fall in love and marry; they run headlong into disappointment and divorce. I abhor the idea that we must put on blinders and pretend everything is perfect. It’s not, and never has been.”
John feels his heart sink a bit. “Yeah, you’re right.” He touches the side of his pint glass, watches the condensation run down. 
He’s thinking about his own failed marriage. He’d loved the idea of Mary, an escape from the past, the possibility of a future with a person who loved him. He’d built an idealised life in his head, and it hadn’t taken long for him to realise how mistaken he’d been. The night Mary died, he’d planned to talk with her, tell her what he’d realised about himself. He didn’t know where that would take them, but it had to be said. He’d only delayed because of Sherlock’s text.
“Love,” Sherlock continues, “has nothing to do with romance. It’s not perfect. It’s a decision, one we keep making because it’s important.”
Their eyes meet. John is looking up into Sherlock’s face, remembering when he said, we might all just be human. “Important. To you?”
“Yes.”
The group is suddenly louder, laughing and jeering at some remark. No one is looking at him and Sherlock. 
Those grey eyes are still gazing at him.
“Love is important, John. I know I don’t often express sentiment, but I do feel it. I do love you.”
At the look on John’s face, Sherlock’s smile turns to something sadder. 
“I adore you and Rosie, and I love the messiness of living with you. I don’t want a perfect life. I want you. I want us.”
“So, you’re saying… you want us... to be a couple?”
“We already are, John. What that means is up to us. Do you want more than what we have?”
“God, yes.” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks them. “I do. Want you. If you…?”
“Yes.” Sherlock is smiling now, a full, bright smile that practically lights up the room. 
John leans closer. “I love you too, Sherlock.” 
The kiss is messy and imperfect. And glorious. Nobody’s watching.
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smallestapplin · 1 year ago
Note
aaaaaa i just saw that you take stardew reqs!! i've been following for a bit but i NEVER get your posts on my dash i stg,,,
may i request some cuddles and reassurances for shane? i can't fix him but i want to just hold him and pretend I can,, can be platonic or romantic, up to you!
I love Shane, cause I'm depressed and self destructive too mf now get over here so I can hug you-
Romance is hinted and it's mutual but neither have confessed.
TW : just Shane having some self deprecating thoughts but nothing serious.
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Shane has been doing much better in the months following when you found him drunk by the cliff side, you two have grown closer allowing you to watch how therapy continues to improve him.
Some days are better than others, but you're so proud of the improvements he's been making. But even then he still has some bad days, and those are the days he doesn't want you to see.
He feels so tired, so worthless, so useless, all he can do is lay in bed and rot.
He's watched his clock tick from 8am to 12pm to 5pm and so on, he just doesn't have the energy to get up, the fight he had been carrying just feels like a burden now.
He had been doing so good to, he's sure you'd be disappointed in him for slipping into a depressive state like this. Shane is so lost in his head he doesn't hear his bedroom door open or close, but he dos feel his bed side dip at the newly added weight.
But he doesn't bother looking up, afraid he may start crying, which is all the more likely when you so tenderly brush his hair from his face.
"Rough day today?" You ask, though you know the answer.
You smile at him, even as he finally looks at you with tear filled green eyes. Even now, you still look at him with such care and warmth, what did he ever do to deserve you?
You kick your boots off and lay down behind him, curling up against him with your face buried into the back of his neck and your arms around his waist. You know he will tell you when he is ready, but for right now you just want to distract him from his pain.
"You know my chickens missed you today, Jopeep was not happy when I was the one trying to give her pets, made this clucking sound that i swear sounded like she was sassing me."
You chuckle, your smile growing when Shane gives a small snort.
"And then Eggatha, bless her, hopped on my shoulder like she usually does, but kept looking around like a bird on a mission."
He can almost imagine your day with your flock, your chickens have always had such personalities it was a delight.
"I misssed you too, I was worried when you didn't stop by or answered my text, I figured you were sleeping. But I did bring over some stuffed peppers for you."
You sound so happy, like you don't mind being here with him while he's like this.
"You don't have to do all this." His voice is rough and gravely from not being used all day today, but it sounds so weak.
"I know, you make it sound like I do all this out of some obligation. You do know I do all this because I want to, right? You deserve some peace and joy, you've been through enough."
You're doing all this because you want to.
You help him practice the coping skills and thought processes his therapist has given him, because you want to.
You cook his favorite dishes because you want to.
There is no needing to.
There is no feeling pity and doing these things.
You want to.
"I like having you around, it's fun having you over at the farm and I get to see how many starws of hay I can put in your hood before you notice, I like our inside jokes, I like our time together, I like you and your company, even if you can't see it, it's there."
His body trembles, leaving him shaking like a leaf as he tries to hold back the tears that are already falling down his cheeks.
"But why, I'm not..." he trails off, letting out a choked sob, but that doesn't stop you.
"Healing takes time, it's a slow process and there will be days or times you slip back, to take a few steps back, but you're still working on it, you are still trying to change for the better. And i don't know if you have noticed, but even in two months of therpay you have changed, you seem happier, you seem livelier. You will always have rough days or even rough weeks, but that doesn't mean you're a failure."
Shane can't stop the sobs that leave him, he finds himself flipping around to hug you, buring his face into your shoulder to let it all out. You hold him tightly, gently shushing him and reminding him to breathe.
"I will be here no matter what."
You know your love won't fix his pain, but you know your support can help him feel more confident about going about it.
You want to tell him you love him, that you adore him and his dry sense of humor, that his gentleness with the chickens and Jas make your heart swell.
But maybe you will wait a few more months and see how he is feeling.
You know he means the world to you, even as he cries himself to sleep in your arms after muttering 'thank you's over and over again.
He deserves a safe place to feel happy.
And you want to be that for him.
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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago
Note
Hi, there, again! 🌼
If it's not too much trouble, make a second and last request, I can request:
There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.
With Silver, Jack and Sebek
Take your time and at your pace, bye 🌠🌌✍️💐
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11. There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.
Hello again yourself! Sorry this took forever! I hope you like this I was considering not putting that prompt on the list but I did anyway because I really like the moon. She does so much for romance, we should thank her.
notes: they/them used for Yuu. I should write more Silver the glomas made me think about him more, Jack gets made fun of, and Sebek is Sebek. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.
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Silver
It is rude to stare, but Silver gave up willing himself not to blink a long time ago. He is afraid that he will put himself right to sleep and be forced to content himself with a hazy memory of your beauty. Not that he is opposed to dreaming of you, he is sure he does already anyway, he just... can't remember it.
"Silver?" He has been caught, you are blocking his vision, but he is only looking at you anyway so he finds himself smiling. "Are you ok?" You reach to check his forehead and he sighs happily into your touch.
"I'm glad you came to see if I was alright, but I promise I'm ok." You let him take your hand in his and guide you to sit next to him, he finds his smile widening but he can't see how you react. "I wonder if humans are warmer in your world."
"Oh um," he falls onto your shoulder, eyes closed but not asleep and reveling in the completely unfamiliar feeling "I don't think we are. Were? W-why would you think something like that?"
"Because I'm always really warm whenever I'm with you." He takes your hand into his lap and places his other over it, breathing deeply and slowly. "Oh and you are getting even warmer now! That's amazing. Unless it's not nice and you are uncomfortable?"
"No I'm fine." Your whisper tickles his ear even if it's not quite next to it. That's another thing he finds amazing about you, your voice has a really powerful effect on people when you lower it. That's the only way he can think to explain his increased heart rate. But then...
"Are you sure?" He opens his eyes to look up at you, your eyes aren't on him anymore, but they aren't on anyone else. You seem to be very determined to continue admiring the moon, even when he has placed himself in your grasp. There is a strange sort of ache in his chest at the thought of your voice being used on anyone else. "I would hate to be keeping you from anyone else..." You turn, more slowly than he would like but probably completely normally, to look at him and steal him back away to daydreams with your smile.
"Don't worry Silver," you squeeze the hands that hold you and rest your head on his "I'm right where I want to be. Promise." And so does he.
Jack
"Tale as old as tiiime~" Ruggie croons somewhere off to the side and Jack takes a deep breath and tries to remind himself that this is his valued senior. "True as it can be~" Someone he deeply admires, who he wants to think highly of him. "Barely even friends~"
"Zip it." Jack growls as soon as you turn towards the noise, not wanting his reverie to be interrupted just yet only to find Leona standing next to Ruggie with just as smug of a look on his face.
"Then somebody bends, unexpectedly~" He has a surprisingly nice voice. Jack really wishes the first time he heard his dorm leader sing was not at his expense. "Aww look Ruggie he's blushing. Didn't know he could do that."
"Shishishishi. And now that you've pointed it out his ears are drooping, poor baby is embarrassed."
"Of course I'm embarrassed," he growls more than grumbles, but Ruggie doesn't even bother pretending to be afraid, to say nothing of how unfazed Leona is "you don't gotta go airing my business for everyone."
"So there is somethin' there." Leona laughs and Jack makes the mistake of looking back towards you.
You have gone back to leaning on the balcony, the moonlight glitters off silk of your costume or maybe it's just his heartsickness messing with his head. Jack rather likes the moon himself, the tales of werewolves his parents would tell had always excited more than frightened him. There was something that just felt right about letting the moonlight embrace him, like he was meant to exist under it. The way moonlight looks on you makes him think the same thing; that maybe he is allowed to want to keep you here forever basking in its glow. He moves, he tells himself it's because Leona and Ruggie have started humming that dumb song again, but the pull of the moon drowns out every word as he stumbles inelegantly to your side.
"I was wondering when you were finally going to come out here." You are enviably relaxed, moving to make room for him on the balcony he takes all of, not wanting there to any ambiguity in why he is standing with you.
"Sorry you were waiting so long." His tail briefly touches your leg before he reels it back to its proper place as he tries to keep his eyes firmly placed on the moon.  He hears you take a deep, deep breath of air and turns to see the puff of steam that you exhale.  “Are you cold?”  He worriedly asks, mind already racing for a solution that doesn’t involve too much actual helping on his part.  But despite that desire he finds himself pulling you into his side before you can say anything.
"Well not anymore." Your voice is muffled by his embarrassment more than his weight. "Stay with me? The moon is too pretty to go back inside just yet." His worry is not enough to deny you.
Sebek
His place is by Lord Malleus's side. His hard won, honored place, the only thing he is allowed to desire is his praise. Sebek is aware more than anyone how merciful his lord is, he has so far to go to be worthy of anything other than the role he has been given, even as he screams for more at every given opportunity.
That is why all he is willing to allow himself to do is look. Look, long, and admire. Sebek can stare a hole deep enough to bury himself at your side as he silently praises the moonlight that shrouds his people for how well it suits your form. He knows his words are inelegant, that his prose is crude, that his knowledge of human courtship is-
"Go on." Master Lilia has descended from the ceiling causing someone (not him certainly) to startle. "You want to, don't you? It's a ball, you're a knight. Go on, talk to them."
His feet move before his mind does, bringing him into full view of the moon as he imagines you catching your breath as you turn to see him.
"Sebek! Have you come to look at the sky too?" You speak so freely, foolishly unconcerned with decorum and yet admirably free in yourself. "It's beautiful tonight."
"Why are you mumbling?" He grumbles himself, trying to focus on the soothing, cool light as you shrink into yourself. "I can barely hear you human, usually you have no trouble speaking to me." It's annoying really, considering how loud you can be to insult him by speaking so slowly now.
"The moon." You choke and refuse to elaborate. He fumbles around in his waist coat for a handkerchief and fussily hands it over.
"Humans are so weak." Don't get sick oh please don't get sick. "You should have accounted for this when picking your costume." If anything happens to you I'll get sick myself from worry. "You should be grateful Master Lilia noticed you were alone and sent me over to check on you."
"Thank you Sebek." You manage a normal tone before he makes it clear he intends to wipe your nose himself. He almost wishes you would speak and save him from the tenderness of the moment. But you don't you just let him do as he pleases and allow him to pretend to return to admiring the moon.
And miss the way you continue to admire him.
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internetgiraffekid1673 · 2 months ago
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Non-Human Spiral OCs, Wysterian Edition!
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I finished Wysteria for the first time last month, and I do NOT understand the hate AT ALL! Pigswick my pathetic child, they are SLEEPIN ON YOU for real! Wysteria's got some of the funniest dialogue in the game so far, all of the NPCs are very memorable, and I personally feel like the story there is fun and well-paced.
Since it's so unfairly underrated, I decided to make some Wysterian OCs! From left to right, meet Private Ronnie, Officer Milton, and Private Babs, members of the Wysterian town guard.
This is Pigswick, so obviously none of them are actually good at their jobs lol. More about them under the cut!
Milton is the "best" at his job. He got on the force when he was a youngster due to nepotism, and has been aggressively mediocre at it ever since. He is DEEPLY uninvested and apathetic towards his job, and only does the bare minimum required to fly under the radar and get his paycheck. He's got two years left to go before he gets retirement benefits, and he thought they would be smooth sailing. Unfortunately for him, he got put in charge of these two.
Ronnie is a transplant to Pigswick from a different part of Wysteria, and is. . . Culturally unadjusted. He's got sticky fingers and steals things ALL the time, which got him in major trouble in his hometown. He picked up the town guard position because it was the first place that would hire him, but it makes him VERY paranoid that he's gonna be caught stealing and forced to do exorbitant amounts of jail-time (Ronnie, please, this is Pigswick, you're practically a moral paragon).
Babs is a very extroverted and very ANNOYING individual who does not understand the concepts of personal space, invasive questions, minding your own business, shutting up, TMI, or boundaries in general. She has a tendency to talk the ears off every person she meets while asking them disrespectful and nosy questions about their lives instead of listening to any of their problems or recognizing "hey, this is the person I'm supposed to be arresting, maybe now isn't the time to be a chatterbox." This behavior does not get better with time.
In the rare instances that any of the three of them lock in and actually focus on their work, they're actually surprisingly competent, but Pigswick in general lacks the discipline to make that happen. Nobody is even bothering to check if they're doing their jobs, let alone make them do it.
Milton hates both his new recruits with a fiery passion. Babs is always either too oblivious to notice when someone doesn't like her, or pretends she is so that she can continue screwing with them. She likes to tease both Ronnie and Milton and thinks they're entertaining, but doesn't really trust them or consider them friends. Babs and Milton both make Ronnie really nervous, but when he stops paranoia-spiraling for 2 seconds, he decides he secretly likes them.
Unfortunately for ALL these slackers, they're MY OC's which means I get to give them a character arc if I want, and I do in fact want!
These three get fired from the force not for any of the questionable shit they ACTUALLY do, but because they were mis-blamed for a series of vandalisms around the academy. Normally, this would be their cue to go their separate ways, but Milton, who is exceptionally petty and devastated at losing his life of easy retirement when it was SO FUCKING close, is not ready to let the other two off the hook so easily. He (at least a little reasonably), thinks they actually DID do it, and he's determined to make them sign on to whatever new job he gets so his enemies have to suffer with him, and Ronnie and Babs (neither of whom have any particular attachment to Pigswick), just roll with it.
They kinda drift around the Spiral for a little bit, taking a job here, getting fired, taking another one there, moving on, etc. They eventually land themselves out of wizard territory and into pirate territory, where they are *finally* able to achieve some stable employment as mail carriers. They will quickly bump into one "Dead-Eye" Captain Nelson, who will happily threaten them into becoming her favorite errand rabbits.
While I do think the Wysteria trio properly joins The Motley Crew *eventually* I think there was, at the very least, 5 years of extorsion and blackmail involved before Kessie was finally like "Y'know what, ya'll ain't bad in a fight and you basically work for me anyway, time to get on my boat."
Milton's a privateer, Ronnie is a swashbuckler, and Babs is a buccaneer, in case anyone was curious! Thanks for letting me show you My Little Guys! I'm having so much fun with this little series.
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pryotra · 3 months ago
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I actually would love to hear why you hate Nero tbh, what bothers you about her character?
...what doesn't bother me about her character would be an easier list.
Essentially, I despise Nero because she takes no accountability for her actions, and the narrative around her does backflips so she doesn't have to. Mostly by minimizing the things that the historic Nero did.
For instance
The historic Nero was married to Claudia Octavia. He hated her because she was, frankly, more popular than him. When his mistress got pregnant, he banished her. When the Romans complained, he murdered her. Then he went on to murder the pregnant mistress during an argument, and castrate and marry a random slave boy who looked like said mistress.
Fate brings up this incident in Extra's manga, only to be sure to make it clear that Octavia killed HERSELF. It was absolutely not Nero's fault, and Nero got to be tragic about it. And if there was something bad, it blamed Agrippina, Nero's mother, who historically might have been the only reason the early reign went well.
This continues and only gets more obnoxious in FGO. To the point that we have the particularly egregious scene in the summer race where Nero has the audacity to say this to Boudicca.
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"Yeah, Boudicca, let's just have fun. Why are you taking this so darn seriously? It's not my fault that your daughters (plural) were raped on Rome's orders!"
This is honestly where my feelings for Nero turned to loathing.
Draco is just continuing the trend of finding ways to justify her, pretend that we should feel sorry for her, and cater to her pity party, but now we get to pretend she was justified in ordering the suicide of Seneca.
If FGO had the guts to actually make Nero take accountability without blaming someone else for her actions, I might enjoy her. But honestly, at this point, in the hole they've dug, there's nothing they could do to salvage her for me.
At least I can enjoy Setanta and the little scraps of lore I get for ProtoMerlin.
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theamityelf · 19 days ago
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Now that you mentioned your Undead AU again,,,
👉🏽👈🏽 I wonder what happens in the aftermath of everything,, I know you mentioned that it's pretty angsty and everyone probably grieves what happened to them and what they put their respective caretakers went through.
buuuuttt, do they retain any feelings from that time? Like I imagine they remember bits and pieces from when they were undead but does someone like ex: Byakuya remember how possessive he was lol. Does Taka still blindly follow Makoto etc. In my head, they do. Albeit, unconsciously at first. and it's kinda terrifying. both for them and Makoto.
(p.s love this au btw!!! it's one of my favorites of yours hehe.)
(Undead AU Masterlist)
(Thanks so much!)
The possessiveness and protectiveness definitely sticks around.
It isn't expressed in the same ways (usually; they don't growl anymore, but when Byakuya is trying to monopolize Makoto and someone else comes up to bother them, he might subconsciously bend his knees a little as if preparing to spring), but in general, a lot of the sharp edges of aggression and defensiveness are sticking around.
The basic holdovers from being undead are:
Jumpiness. They had a lot of skirmishes when they were undead, and long after the cure they remain hypervigilant of anyone being behind them. Some of them take to standing with their back against a wall, but most of them just stand normally and find themselves looking around more than usual.
For lack of a better phrase, oral fixation. Biting was a huge part of how they interacted with the world and expressed themselves before, and while they don't have quite the same level of need-to-bite, they need to do something. Makoto and Nagito (who continue to be a little caretaker-y for a bit after) take to carrying gum, mints, or hard candy for them to chew. Mikan develops a habit of chewing her hair. Leon chews toothpicks, to look cool, but he does end up chewing them practically to a pulp. Some of them (Ibuki) do just still bite people.
They're more in touch with their emotions. Before the "disease", Byakuya was pretty in-denial about liking Makoto. His disposition toward Makoto was largely, "I suppose you're decent company, compared to everyone else here." Now that he has vague memories of dragging Makoto to his sleep spot to cuddle and snapping at anyone who came near, he's not pretending he doesn't want to spend time with him, because that would be like admitting embarrassment, and he refuses. Celeste, similarly, realizes how much she likes her classmates, but she still isn't expressing that too much. Fuyuhiko and Peko hug in front of everyone. Hifumi is more chill about body stuff, now that he vaguely remembers bathing with everyone. Just generally, there's a lot of "I love you guys." "You guys are my best friends." Etc.
Weird reactions to meat and blood. The specifics vary; some of them are repulsed, some of them are weirdly compelled. Akane actually might be in the repulsed group; after having visited her usual ravenous hunger on human bodies the whole time she was undead, now raw meat and blood seriously turn her stomach. She can't even eat meat that's anything less than well done. No pink. Idk, it's fun to give her something to be squeamish about. Partially because I do still ship Mikane and I think it's fun to have Akane doing her normal athletic hijinks, getting injured, and for once being actually unable to look at the injury. Mikan helps her and feels so needed and appreciated. And maybe kind of hungry, seeing Akane's blood...That's weird...Hopefully it's temporary.
Subvocal/nonverbal communication. Some of them just kinda don't talk out loud as much as they used to. I think Kazuichi would be one of those. If you talk to him while he's focused on something else, he might respond exclusively in gestures, hum, and grunts. Honestly, not a troublesome symptom at all. He's valid. It's just different from before.
Temper. They are trying to keep it together, but they go from zero to a hundred way easier than before. Which is saying a lot, for some of them. Fortunately, this intersects with the "in touch with their feelings" thing, so the kinds of things they get angry about are different. More honest. But still, they're getting into more fights than anyone wants. Usually with people outside their class. If anyone says anything to Nagito about feeding Reserve Course students to his classmates, Fuyuhiko is going off, because Nagito should never have been in that position in the first place! What, did they want him to hunt for animals until they ran out and lose a finger, like the kid? (At this point, some of Makoto's classmates get mad, because they're all still sensitive about that, and this might end with Peko pointing a sword at Mondo.)
Altered physical boundaries. Like the blood thing, some of them are more into physical contact than before, and some of them are more averse than before. I'd say most of them fall in the first group, with only a couple in the second. Hiro is more touch-averse, out of caution.
A few of them do follow their lucksters around like ducklings. Often not consciously. It just happens. I could see Taka and Mukuro being like this. Kazuichi and maybe Chiaki, too. For the most part, the touch-averse ones (the ones who weren't touch-averse before) are significantly less so with the lucksters. They have vague memories of haircuts and gentle hands cleaning their injuries. Their defenses aren't high, toward their lucksters.
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scary-lasagna · 2 years ago
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Hello!:D i was wondering if you could do Jeff and Ben with a child reader?:0 platonic obvi!^^ but there really mean and stuff but its bc of trauma?:D if not ignore this<3
oh dear, i'm sorry I didn't catch the mean part! I'll be writing a second one with your spare ask don't worry!! :]
Platonic!Jeff & Ben
Ben is like stupidly amazing with kids.
Sally loves him, she thinks he's the coolest in the manor and lets her say bad words sometimes, and even has a tea party once in a while.
Jeff isn't the greatest, and usually has a knack for making small children cry.
So when an orphaned child wanders up to the manor, and they're scheduled to babysit until Slender gets home, they agree to watch you until sunset.
Jeff has absolutely no clue what to do with you, and doesn't even think to offer you a snack or something to drink.
Ben is already returning from the kitchen with little packets of crackers and one of Sally's juice boxes.
Jeff will pick you up and plop you down at the table, sitting next to you and try to make an attempt at conversation.
But again, he's terrible with children, and tries asking you if you've seen the new GTA 6 trailer.
You look at him weird before continue munching on your crackers. You even go as far as scooting away from him a little bit.
Jeff is embarrassed by a 5 year old, but pretends he's not bothered by it. Ben sees right through his facade, and snickers to himself behind a well placed cough..
Ben knows how make you feel more comfortable, asking questions about you, because what else would a 5 year old have to talk about?
Their whole world consists of things that they do, not whatever sport was on TV last night or a new game that's being released, you were too young for that talk. The most interesting person they know is themself.
But no matter how many questions Ben tries to ask, you don't give them a glimpse of information about how you got here.
"So, where were you before you found us?"
"Literally, I don't even know, stop asking me. But today I found a frog and I put him in my pocket, and then I started to play the drums and Roblox at the same time but the frog didn't like it and-"
They agree to take you to the game room so you can mess around with whatever you can get your grubby hands on, whether it be the foosball table, the N64 scattered on the ground, the 30,000 dollar pool table-
THE THIEIRTY THOUSNAND DOALRA-
Jeff is faster than Ben, and swoops you up with a 'nOOoonononono', and you think it's the funniest thing that he's holding you upside down, because you laugh so hard you run out of breath.
And while Ben re-organizes the pool balls back into their neat little triangle, Jeff has fun just swinging you about, finding it amusing how easy children are entertained.
One way up, one way back down, swing you around in a circle like a football, dangle you by an ankle and toss you up to catch you. Like a little rhythm game.
He remembers back to his own childhood, the moments where his parents actually liked being parents, and his father tossing hm repeatedly on the couch, which of course is passed down to you.
"Again!"
"AGAAINN??? UGGHH!"
And you think it's hilarious how he's so annoyed, yet does it anyway. And secretly, he loves it.
And Ben loves watching him love it, like he gets to see a glimpse into Jeff's past that he never wants to talk about.
But eventually, as all children do, you grow tired, and instead of running back toward Jeff, you stay on the couch and curl up to watch whatever is flickering on the TV.
Ben will return with popcorn, and Jeff is sitting on the ground in front of you, showing you how to play this old vintage game called "The Mario Bros." that's only 8 pixels deep in graphics quality.
Ben holds a somewhat bittersweet smile, as he walks over and delivers the popcorn. After some thought he joins in as Player 2, and let's you get the sleep you so much needed.
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blackjackkent · 5 months ago
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Pride demon boss fight went okay. Lots of chaos, big red circles on the ground like an MMO boss fight. I am continuing to button mash and get away with it, but Helena's movement does feel pretty smooth and satisfying. So far I'm not responsible for anyone's activities but hers; remains to be seen to what degree that will continue.
Anyway, time to make the final push on The Ritual.
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I enjoy Helena's facial expressions. She's turned out to have a lot more of a rough-and-ready vibe than I was expecting but I'm kind of not mad at it. As usual (and as is part of the fun of these blogs), some new characteristics for her have been emerging out of whole cloth, thus:
Not bothered by magic but not really that interested in it either.
Deeply attached to Minrathous and its people.
Will never, ever, ever, ever admit, even to herself, when she's scared.
That last one is being put to the test a bit right now.
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Maybe she's not scared but she's sure as hell running on pure adrenaline right now. Looking ahead, she can see the silhouetted figure - Solas, she assumes - bathed in that writhing, glowing light, the raw magic of the Fade bleeding into the world around him. The intensity of the ritual feels like hammer blows through the air.
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"All right," Varric says tersely. "I'll take it from here." He flexes his fingers against Bianca's stock, his jaw working.
Behind them, another wave of demons emerges into reality, screeching violently.
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"Are you sure?" Neve asks, one hand up in a defensive position, ready to unleash another barrage of spells.
"Positive." Varric forces a smile. "You three just keep the demons off me while I talk to him."
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"Varric." Harding frowns. "Solas isn't going to stop just because an old friend asks nicely.
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"Solas needs someone to sell him another option, to help him justify changing his mind," Varric insists.
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Helena shakes her head slightly. She gets it, she really does. Varric's been talking this whole time about finding Solas, talking to him, convincing him to see reason. But there's no reason in this wild lightning storm.
She was all for handling things with words back at the bar, but that was because things hadn't kicked off yet. There was still time to stop things from escalating. This... the wheels are already in motion. The power is in Solas's hands.
And that bartender and her guards - they were small fries, Helena's kind of people. But she's grown up in Minrathous, been a Dragon in Minrathous. And she's seen all too many times how, when someone gets hold of real power, everyone else stops mattering. And once they reach that point, talk isn't what stops them.
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"Come on, Varric," she says tightly. "We didn't come all this way just to talk to him."
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Varric scowls. "He was my friend, Rook. I've gotta try to reach him." His eyes narrow, grim and sad. "And if he won't listen to me... then he'll hear from Bianca."
(A/N: I spent some time trying to get a good shot of Helena's dramatic over-the-shoulder look back at Varric as she walks away, but her tremendously floofy hair physics kept working against me. XD
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Everyone just pretend this is a really dramatic screenshot okay?)
Helena knows, however bad an idea this is, there's no point in arguing with him. Varric's stubborn when he decides how something's going to go. Maybe it's the author in him, thinking if he can just concentrate hard enough, he can get the plot down on the page just so, and everything can end happily.
Helena knows better. But there's nothing else she can do but support him.
She nods curtly, turns away, stalking towards Neve and Harding. Behind her, she hears Varric start jogging up the stairs towards that blinding flare where the world has been rent open.
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"Hey, Chuckles!" she hears him shout. "Hope I'm not interrupting!"
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Whatever follows of the conversation is lost in another tremor, another burst of light, another wave of demons.
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Helena leaps off a nearby ledge to a lower platform, where Harding is already doing battle with several of the Fade-drenched things.
"All right," she says, spinning a dagger in one hand. "Let's buy him some time."
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stainfjsss · 2 years ago
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Webecca/Rebesker HC's p2
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🏷️: SFW, Age Gap, AU where Umbrella doesn't exist, Continuation of S.T.A.R.S
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-Rebecca's first day in S.T.A.R.S was in the middle of August. Wesker had heard that Bravo team was receiving a new rookie but could have honestly cared less, he had only made an appearance because he was one of the two captains, it was one of his many responsibilities. A simple introduction and back to dealing with his own team, Alpha and Bravo only collaborated as a whole when there was a "big deal" type of mission and of course those were as rare as blue moons..
It was really nerve-wracking for Rebecca though, fresh out of the academy and she's already hired at the RPD with a whole team, it was a bit disappointing when there were no other girls but she sucked it up and happily made friends with her new co-workers, they made her little puzzles and games so they could all get to know her better
In the middle of her welcome party she was introduced to Wesker, he had come into the office looking already done with it, not one for small talk or unnecessary pleasantries he carried on with the hope to quickly be over and finished
He was utterly intimidating to say the least, her heart was practically beating raw out of her chest as she nervously introduced herself to Alpha team's captain, his handshake was calculated and confident. Compared to Enrico she would have never guessed that they were both on the same level of authority, the contrast between them was drastic, jarring almost..
Enrico of course had noticed her nervousness and quickly joked to ease her, telling her that he isn't as scary as he wants to be. Albert on the other hand pretended but in a way felt terribly weak, the sight of Rebecca, the sound of her meek introduction and her coquettish demeanor made his stomach twist and knot....he felt that it was almost illegal, no, inhuman to even be as cute as she was
She was everything. Soft, clever, ambitious, and humble. Rebecca was a bit naive but she wasn't dumb, she wanted to prove she belonged and work hard to keep her position. The moment Captain Wesker left, Rebecca couldn't help but to ask everyone more about him, he didn't smile once but she didn't mind-- there would be plenty of opportunities for them to talk again
-Courting went just as well as Albert expected, he could only do so much before playing the waiting game. He would request for Ms.Chambers' presence in the RPD lab room and ask for her honest opinions and thoughts regarding new developments in the field medicine the medical team would use...Rebecca felt important and special under his attention and after a while she grew out of her initial shyness, falling into a comfortable rhythm with him where she could talk about almost anything. Either complaining about the lines at Starbucks or having heated debates, if Rebecca had any free time to spare, she would always be happily chatting away with Wesker
-Rebecca was the one to start the relationship, she watched an embarrassing amount of motivational YouTube videos the night prior and asked the big question during lunch break in his office, Albert damn near had a stroke that day (he honestly didn't expect his awkward off and on flirting to actually take effect on her whatsoever) but they officially started dating in early winter ❄️☃️
-Rebecca likes annoying Wesker just because she has the privilege, she's aware there's a good handful of people in the RPD who would want to antagonize the captain without retaliation nor consequences, so it makes it even more fun. Either in his office or out in public, she will bring his hand to her mouth only to nip at his fingers or just headbutt his chest or arms when she's feeling silly
Of course, it does bother Wesker to an extent but he lets it slide since it's admittedly very adorable
Sometimes if she feels really bold, she'll purposefully approach him when he's talking to another co-worker and casually take the sunglasses off his face, she thinks it's really funny when he doesn't seem phased, not sparing her a glance and continuing conversation. Rebecca has done it so often it's become an inside joke within both teams
-She likes indulging his photography hobby and posing as a model, at first she was super camera shy but eventually got eased into it. Rebecca is stunningly photogenic, she's not beautiful like a model but rather like a modern goddess. He has 3 cameras filled with nothing but her, Albert is always buying her lots of cute clothes and costumes despite her protests (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠`⁠*⁠)
-Wesker likes to teach Rebecca how to shoot various firearms and often spends hours with her in the shooting range. She's the only other person who he lets handle and shoot his own custom Samurai Edge (which she thought was super cool)
Of course, it's a heavy gun and the recoil is pretty strong for her so it gives him the chance to get behind and guide her correctly. Sometimes his touch lingers for too long or he presses himself too close to her but Rebecca pretends to not notice, she basks in his careful attention and honeyed praise
However, good things come with a price, the price being the eventual headaches she gets from the gunpowder smell..
-He is so utterly possessive it isn't funny. The only place Rebecca can really be alone at is work and even then he's always showing up to visit or asking for her at least 2 times a day. In public he gets antsy if she leaves his sight...Wesker isn't a big fan of PDA but when he wants he's subtle about it, having his hand on Rebecca's waist or pulling her close to himself, it never fails to make her feel even more precious ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡
-On the rare occasions Wesker does get jealous, it's when the other rookies are clearly trying to make moves on her....over time he has learned to relax though, he trusts Rebecca and does kinda abuse his position of power sending those poor souls heaps of tedious paperwork
However Rebecca definitely gets 10x more jealous, if she hears or sees others flirting with Wesker she gets upset and ignores him entirely or tells him off with the excuse of how "busy" she is at the moment..
it makes him utterly depressed and he does try his best to make it up to her (个⁠_⁠个⁠)
-Rebecca naturally smells really sweet, whenever she's alone in the vicinity Wesker likes to wrap his arms around her and smell her for a moment, just quietly leaning into her small frame. Her scent strangely soothes him, especially after a long day-- he's considered trying to find a scientific way to bottle it up...
-She is NOT a still sleeper by any means, always tossing and turning at night and hogging all the blankets, Albert doesn't really mind because he sleeps as still as a corpse. Ever since they started dating he has bought a whole bunch of pillows and blankets just for her
-Rebecca loves planning cute little dates for them... theme parks, museum tours, indoor movie nights, Ect. Her love language is definitely quality time whereas Wesker's is both acts of service and gift giving
-She's one of the few people that make him laugh, either by her actions or a joke he can't help dropping the serious attitude and genuinely smiling/laughing at her nonsense, it makes Rebecca strangely proud
-Wesker drives an expensive black SUV with all the windows definitely too tinted for it to be legal, Rebecca drives a small and simple car like a Honda or Nissan. They park next to eachother just because she thinks it's cute
-Her hair is super soft and fluffy meanwhile his is hard and definitely has damage. Whenever they're bathing together she likes washing it, feeling the gel turn into mush and slowly deteriorate. She uses a sweet smelling honey-vanilla shampoo and he uses like head and shoulders or something weird smelling like that
-With Rebecca, Albert has started to indulge in things he normally would judge others for indulging in, like fast food and awful movies/TV shows. They're both on season 6 of The Kardashian's and admittedly he looks forward watching it with her every time she comes over, her reactions and expressions to the dramatic show are even more better to observe
-On the field, Wesker almost always pushes Rebecca to her limits, he's confident in her abilities and wishes to see her believe more in herself. He may come across as stern or harsh but that's how he shows he truly does care and worry about her
-Wesker secretly likes sweets, Rebecca eventually finds out when she catches him in the break room nibbling on a chocolate donut from the box Barry brought for everyone, she giggled like it was the funniest thing on earth. He was a bit embarrassed but she reassured him when she brought homemade brownies the next week
-Compared to him, Rebecca has a significantly bigger social circle so sometimes she gets busy hanging out with friends or simply going out. She doesn't do it often but when she does Albert is always missing her dearly, he tries distracting himself with something productive but his thoughts always wander back to his darling and her wellbeing, he's briefly considered putting a tracker on her phone...
When she eventually does return, he becomes shamelessly clingy, beckoning her to the couch or bed to cuddle until the next day, a request in which Rebecca happily agrees upon 🌅
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Hope the 5 fans of this ship enjoyed, I want to incorporate more dark themes in the next part, these sillies are the best (⁠๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑⁠)
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exo-raskreia · 2 years ago
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ToShiro jealous of Karin headcanons?
Oh, wow! 😮 Let's see...
This all takes place in my HK spin-off sequel ideas when they're in the teen stage...
I can imagine him being the type to brood over it, like if he witnesses Karin getting hit on, but it's not necessarily his business to butt in, then he'd just pretend not to care. He'd busy himself with something while his internal feelings of jealousy simmer underneath the surface. Anyone who comes across him will notice something seems off, but don't know why & would rather not bother him. Maybe there's an aura about him 🤭. He doesn't realize why he starts to feel this way initially, though.
Let's say he's pretending to be a student again in high school (like in the OG Bleach), & he starts to notice the attention Karin gets from other boys. The stares, the praises for her athleticism & high academic scores, whispers about them wanting to shoot their shot with her, etc. Some might even see her as a challenge & want to be the ones to win her over. Hitsu would start to feel a bit bothered by all this the more he gets to know her, but thinks, 'Hmph, as if she'd give a second thought to those bozos.'
His opinion of her is rather high, so he trusts her better judgment. Though, that still doesn't stop him from feeling a little worried every time he overhears a boy planning to ask her out at the back of the school. It isn't until she meets him at the front gates so he can walk her home, when she says she had to politely reject yet another guy, that he feels an internal relief. He doesn't really know why but it feels like another silent victory of sorts.
He may or may not notice how other boys look at him whenever he's with Karin. Maybe at times, he feels a little smug, especially when her attention is solely on him, & other boys glare at him resentfully.
This can also apply to the scenario in which she's a Soul Reaper in his division. She's fairly new, but obviously she's leagues above most others. Hitsu admires her tenacity & the way she radiates whenever she's focused. He's not the only one who's noticed this; he's caught his men once or twice looking her way interestedly. It didn't bother him necessarily, only made his eyes roll. But one day, when the recruits are training at the dojo, Hitsu comes by to check on them & once again witnesses Karin excel. She really does stand out among the rest. And it was here that it finally hit him just how much attention Karin gets from his men. Glances, praises, & asking for tips.
He knows she's popular in his division (as well as the others, if he's being honest) but it isn't only because she's continuing the legacy of the Kurosaki-Shibas. There's more to Karin & he isn't the only one who's noticed. She's friendly & willing to help. Intelligent, brave, & fun to be around. She... was not unpleasant to look at; he's not blind, for God's sake.
And yet, the sudden bout of knowledge that he's not alone in his thoughts irritates him for some reason & decides to step in. He offers to help those recruits instead, deciding he will not go easy on them. It isn't often that he leads a training session, since as the captain, he has more important duties. But he decides that he doesn't have much work due until tomorrow & gives the dojo instructor the rest of the day off. During training, he's a little stricter than usual with the men in particular & Karin can't help being secretly mesmerized by his teaching mode. She is oblivious to his internal conflicts & to her own feelings for that matter.
All in all, I think Hitsugaya may be the type to be oblivious about his feelings at first, & won't realize why he feels irritation by other men approaching Karin with intentions beyond friendship & camaraderie. When he does realize it, he'll try to be in denial, but his discomfort may still be obvious to some even if they can't pinpoint why.
I hadn't thought much about this before but this is what I was able to come up with for now. Hope it somewhat answers your question, anon! 😄
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player1064 · 1 year ago
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kate for someone reason thinking jamie is homophobic not sure why or how but she does (sara has me obsessed with the idea that they can’t stand each other now lol) and then him introducing her to gary and she’s like 🤯 ft. micah in the corner like you didn’t know he never shuts up about him???
god Kate and Jamie literally CANNOT STAND EACH OTHER!!! I'm OBSESSED with that dynamic tbh!!!!!!! As always. this one is much longer than intended...
Also, don't need to have read it but this is technically intended to tie in to my fic Happy wife, happy life (but tldr Jamie regularly calls Gary his wife partly to keep their relationship under wraps but mostly bc. he finds it funny to call Gary his wife.)
---
“Obviously we’re done for the season right before pride month kicks off,” one of the CBS producers is saying, eyes darting over something on an iPad. “And since you four have been pretty popular we were thinking of including you in some of those ad campaigns, so if I could just get some dates off of all of you –”
“No,” Jamie says immediately.
All three of his colleagues snap their heads up to him, but only Kate looks at him coolly and says “no?”
Micah, because he’s Micah, chuckles and slaps Jamie in the shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the new tension in the air. “Not like you to turn down extra cash, Carra.”
Jamie rolls his eyes, pretends not to notice the way Kate’s eyes are burning into him. “Check my contract. Wish I could, honest,” he says to the producer, feeling very very glad that he had a clause added to his contract specifically so that he doesn’t have to take part in things like this, “But it just wouldn’t be do-able. You lot ‘ave fun, though, with yer rainbows and yer glitter.”
Kate just looks at him incredulously. “This is one thing you decide to take a stand on, mister ‘I don’t care about politics’?”
Rainbows just don’t really suit Jamie, is the thing. Nor does the extra scrutiny that comes from wearing rainbows.
Doesn’t really matter to him what Kate thinks of him, though, so he just shrugs and continues packing up his stuff for the day.
*
“Jamie – Jamie, I finally got onto Raya, can you have a look at my profile?”
Jamie looks up at Micah with a frown. “What the fuck is a Raya?”
“It’s a dating app,” Kate says from her end of the desk, in that unimpressed tone of hers that makes Jamie wonder why she’s bothering to insert herself into the conversation at all.
“An exclusive dating app,” Micah corrects, wiggling his phone in front of Jamie.
“Weren’t you already seeing someone?” asks Jamie, but he accepts the phone with a sigh and puts his glasses on. “I don’t – I’ve never used one of these things, what am I meant to be lookin’ at?”
Micah shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says breezily. “How have you never used a dating app, you’ve not been married that long. And look at yourself, you can’t tell me you weren’t a player before Mrs Carra came along.”
Jamie had got around a bit, in his playing days. Not much, mind, because he’d had to be careful, but he’d done alright. Unfortunately – and this is not something he’ll ever admit to anyone, even under duress – any thoughts of that had gone out the window the moment he’d walked onto the Sky campus after retiring.
“You’re right,” he says with a wink, “look at me. As if I’d need an app to find myself a bird. Why’d you want me to look at this, I’m not exactly your target audience. ‘less there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us,” he adds, elbowing Micah and waggling his eyebrows.
Kate looks on unimpressed as the two of them double over in laughter. “Not that any of us would have a problem if you were, right Jamie?” she says haughtily.
Jamie catches Micah’s eye and has to fight back another bout of laughter. “Dunno,” he says, “I can think of one or two problems I’d ‘ave if Big Meeks here suddenly tried hittin’ on me.”
Micah bursts out laughing again, his hand clapping to Jamie’s forearm, and Jamie can’t help but join in – it’s infectious, okay?
“God,” Micah says, wiping a tear from his eye, “can you imagine how your missus would react. I’d never be able to work in television again.”
“Nah, she’d prob’ly send you a fruit basket, thank you for taking me off ‘er hands.”
Kate clears her throat and the two of them sober immediately at the sight of her raised eyebrow. “Maybe cool it with the outdated banter,” she says, “or do I need to remind you boys that you’re not in a dressing room anymore?”
She storms off, he heels click-clicking away as Jamie and Micah look at each other and try (and fail) not to start laughing again.  
*
“You didn’t want to bring your wife to the end of season party, then?” Kate asks politely, looking slowly around the room.
“Huh?” Jamie says eloquently, because he’s had a couple of glasses of prosecco and he’s not thinking as quickly as he usually might. “Oh, the missus. Yeah, she’s here but  – I dunno, she’s a bit shy, like. You didn’t invite Malik?”
Kate rolls her eyes, the way she always does when Jamie mentions her boyfriend. “Well, he lives in America. So.”
“Carra,” an annoying voice calls from just behind him, “Carra, come over ‘n meet Schmeichel? I’ve not seen ‘im in years, d’you know, I think I’d forgot how tall he was.”
Jamie puts a hand on the small of Gary’s back to keep him from bouncing around too much (the man is such a lightweight, it’s embarrassing), and says “I’ve already met Peter, you dolt. I work with ‘im, remember?”
Gary squints at him for a second. “You drag me all the way down to London, and then y’can’t even be bothered to –” he finally seems to realise that Jamie had been talking to someone, because he quickly shakes his head around a bit and holds a hand out to Kate with a smile. “You’re Kate, right? I love what you do on the show, honest, I’m always sayin’ people need to be meaner to James here.”
Jamie thinks he sees Kate blush a bit, like she hadn’t realised anyone else had noticed her dislike of Jamie, but she takes Gary’s offered hand anyway. “And of course you’re the famous Gary Neville, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she greets. “But aren't you still with Sky? What brings you to our little operation here?”
“Scopin’ out the competition,” he says with a wink, then turns back to Jamie. “Carra – Peter?”
“I said no! I’ll talk to him later, stop badgerin’ me.”
“Did you two travel down from Manchester together?” asks Kate, “You know, Jamie seems so invested in my relationship but none of us have ever met his wife, do you know where she’s got to?”
“Ah, his fuckin’ wife,” Gary mutters, smirking up at Jamie. Jamie winks in reply and slips his hand down a bit to pinch him on the arse.
Micah comes over, his tuxedo strained against his biceps, and he pulls Gary away from Jamie to throw an arm around his shoulder in a half-hug.
(Gary squirms a bit at the unexpected contact, but he still gives Micah a friendly pat on the chest.)
“Big Nev! It’s been ages, man – Jamie told us you were coming, but he’s promised that before and not delivered.”
“Been pretty busy, up in Manchester,” Gary says with a shrug, carefully extracting himself from under Micah’s arm and returning to Jamie’s side. “But I’m obliged to do the plus one thing at least two –” (“Three,” Jamie corrects,) “—fine, three times a year, and I figure there’re worse places to be.”
“Aw, you love it really,” Micah says. “I’ve always kind of wondered what it’s like to be a WAG.”
Gary rolls his eyes. “It’s a thankless job, to be fair.” He pokes Jamie in the bicep and adds “I’m going back to talk t' Peter, you miserable old twat. Honest, I’m always talkin' to Scousers fer you.”
“I already know –” Jamie starts to protest, but Gary’s already wandered off. “Ugh. Sorry about ‘im. You can’t take Mancs anywhere, can ya?”
The two Mancs he’s talking to look at him, unimpressed.
“He seemed nice,” Kate says carefully.
“He’s not,” Jamie replies.
*
“Good summer?” Micah asks, their first show back after the break.
“Brilliant,” Jamie replies with a grin. “It were my turn to choose the destination, so –”
“Ibiza?”
He nods. “Ibiza. The house was done just in time, too.”
“You know, I can’t really imagine Gary in Ibiza.”
“Oh, he hates it. Complained the whole time, but he does that wherever we go.”
He becomes aware that Kate is watching them from across the desk, not trying to hide that she’s listening to their conversation with curiosity. Jamie nods to her, all polite like. “Hows about you, Kate, good summer?”
“It was fine, I –” she shakes her head. “Sorry, you’re saying you go on holiday with Gary Neville?”
Micah scoffs. “Who else would he go with?” he asks, and Jamie points to him in agreement.
“I dunno, his wife?”
Jamie blinks.
He thought he’d got all this out the way, dragging Gary along to the party a couple of months ago. Apparently not.
“Gary is my wife,” he says, then suddenly feels very stupid saying that to someone who’s not already in on the joke, so he corrects to “my husband, I mean. Obviously he’s not – he’s a man. Obviously.”
Kate’s eyes are wide, unblinking. She looks between Jamie and Micah, lips pressed together while her brain seems to be buffering.
“You’re married to a man?” she says eventually. “But you’re not gay, I mean – you’re –”
Jamie, who last time he checked definitely was gay, raises an eyebrow, amused. “I’m what?”
“You’re a footballer,” she attempts, and oh, this is far too easy.
“Bit ‘omophobic, that, sayin’ footballers can’t be gay,” he replies, holding back a smirk.
“Oh shut up, you know what I – you’re a lad! You’re always with the banter, and the…”
Thierry wanders over, freshly brewed cup of tea in hand. “What have you two done this time?” he asks, looking pointedly at Jamie and Micah.
Jamie raises his hands to protest his innocence.
“Thierry,” Kate asks, reaching a hand out towards him, “did you know Jamie’s married to a man?”
Thierry rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fucking Neville,” he replies, and goes to sit down.
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kurtty-drabbles · 1 day ago
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Yo Kurtty Mun, Silver Sable honestly deserved better than to end up with Nightcrawler just so he gets this balls back into the game during Fall of X.
I still remember her telling him "There's no coffee breaks for a good heart" to basically make him go talk to Mystique and then giving him a hug for comfort...
Miss Silvija,
Nightcrawler spent his entire first year on Krakoa as part of the government twiddling his thumbs and yet still went to the yearly met gala party to pat himself on the back for doing that much nothing.
His second and third year were his Legion of X run which lasted 11 issues making it so he didn't do that much in those 730 days.
He left mutant island a while before Fall of X to do something, which he never did, before you crossed paths with him as a Spider-Man having fun.
He let Mystique, an anti human, go free twice as Spider-Man when she was armed and already attacked humans twice just so he doesn't bother with her and mutant matters.
He knows mutants are being actively captured and jailed while he's having fun.
He knows mutants are still alive and trying to bring change onto the world like his own adoptive sister who's on the news with Captain America's Uncanny Avengers.
He's literally mentally insulting Spider-Man at the start of Uncanny Spider-Man for basically telling him "we gotta do something or you might get caught next" because there's no way Peter can understand him.
He spent more time talking to a nazi and getting advice from him than talking to any of his hero friends for 3 years.
Silvija,
The Nightcrawler standing in front of you doesn't have a good heart and good morals but Spurrier pretends he does.
Especially after he just unloaded on you all the very important sacrifices he made about losing his soul to come back to life all those years ago... When that happened years ago, Krakoa's continuity is broken if it was canon, he got his soul back since then apparently, has abused resurrection as part of the ruling class while so many mutants have still not gotten brought back to life and has spent his time since then doing so many selfish and immoral things while ruling over mutants like forcing them to reproduce to one-up and get the good graces of the same mother he's been letting go with a slap on the wrist as Spider-Man.
Your words ring even less true after Uncanny Spider-Man between him happily killing soldiers while dropping them in the vacuum of space and tearing out Apocalypse's eyes.
He couldn't care less about mutants being in the same situation as those you two are saving in Uncanny Spider-Man nowadays one year later after they've been captured and sent to death prison.
... And he is very satisfied with his life without you in it after his mommy give him a superior hug and retcon speech that's better than yours at making his life seem like the most important in the universe because without him everyone dies.
Silvija deserved better than to hype a selfish loser.
In moments like this, I wonder about the anti heroes writers. Like the Boys (I always talk about them) writer is know for not liking the heroes of DC and Marvel ...so I can guess there more out there, so...with that out of the way, Kurt is a good target for mockery for any indie writer out there.
A hero who says he is a good guy but his actions are immoral but his team says he is the heart of the team.
Even if his actions are disgusting. It makes the others teams of heroes isolated this particular Ymen group.
I know you are asking/talking about Silver and I get it and I agree but I do wonder about the fact Kurt is perfect to be mocked.
"this hero was loveable but now he is a disgusting person...but he still thinks he is in the right and that we, the audience, are on his side"
Like...the X-Men are, and I'm not joking, so detestable that I can't fault the avengers to FF for wanting nothing to do with them. Reed was very charitable for not destroying Prof X or the Krakoa when they kidnapped their son and then kicked Frank out bc "your genoma is not what we want" like hmmmm that sounds very Sus.
THERE NAZI IN THAT ISLAND.
The X-Men are dead.
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kimbappykidding · 2 years ago
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Oher Parts: Part One, Part Two and Part Four.
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One night in bed Sehun had a revelation for you. "You know some of the guys are kinda jealous" Sehun said and you looked at him "of us, why?". "They said I'm getting the best outfits". You smiled "have they ever just considered you look good in everything?" trailing a hand down his abs. Sehun smiled and held your hand against him "I've tried telling them that but they won't listen, maybe they'll have to hear it from you?". You smiled as he leaned in "I'll get right on that...after I'm done with this" and kissed him. Sehun pulled you onto him and you made a happy content noise. Sehun chuckled "you make all sorts of cute noises around me but my favourite is the way you say my name". You blushed but smiled at him "this again?". "Yes this again! As if you're not sexy enough your voice is so hot" Sehun said and he looked at you expectantly. You knew exactly what he was expecting and tilted your head looking down at him. "Sehun?" you asked faking innocent but put your best sigh to it. Sehun visibly squirmed and yanked you back towards him. You laughed at the effect it had on him until you saw the look in his eye. "Laugh all you want but I'm going to have you chanting it just give me five minutes". In response you grabbed your phone from the bedside table and set a timer "go on then". Sehun won the bet. So you continued hooking up with Sehun and the visits he paid to your studio continued as well. Sure you'd always enjoyed your job but there was something so exciting about fooling around with Sehun. Every fitting was charged with sexual tension and you loved the secretive looks Sehun gave you. The looks that told you exactly what Sehun was thinking and what you'd be up to later. Relatedly the makeout sessions at work were great too. You never went too far at work and were really careful but the looks Sehun would send you were enough to weaken you and the texts he sent you were more than enough to push you over the edge. It was a whirlwind of fun and even though you had no official guess at what this was you knew things weren't as casual when you started getting jealous and possessive over him.
Sehun's presence at work was being felt but not only by you. Sehun was friendly and chatted with all the girls while he was in your department. He had to otherwise everyone would guess what was going on in minutes but you didn't like how far one girl was taking it. Nalah was the newest member of your department and her proudest achievement was she was the youngest one and she mentioned it every day. It was like she thought you all went home and cried because she was still a teenager. She hadn't realised yet that there was nothing wrong with ageing and grown men paying attention to a 19-year-old isn't a good thing. So she had an inflated ego and reckoned she had a shot with lots of idols even though she'd barely even spoken to them. However, one idol she had spoken to was Sehun and she began to get ideas. "Has anyone noticed how Sehun's hanging around here a lot lately?" Nalah asked one day. You froze at the question and then tried to pretend like you hadn't even heard her. "Yes so?" one of your co-workers called Choonhee asked "he's not doing any harm". "I know I never said he was I just wondered why he's here so much". Everyone else shrugged not too bothered and you began to calm down again...but when Nalah didn't get the response she wanted she answered for you all. "I think he has a thing for me!" she said and you couldn't help your eyes widening a little which she noticed. "What does that look mean?" she asked and you smiled "nothing just...why? Has he asked you out or flirted with you?". "He hasn't asked me out but flirts all the time!" she cried and you nodded "right..." not believing her. "Plus he checks out my ass like 5 times a day and my boobs...it must be so nice not getting bothered by that kind of attention" she said shooting you a *sympathetic look* which was really a sneer. Before you could reply your manager spoke up "you better hope that's not true Nalah because we have a strict no fraternising with idols rule here. Even if he does like you, you can't date him or anything else unless you want to lose your job?". Nalah's expression changed and she shook her head "no" and got back on with her work. Choonhee shot you a smirk and you returned it but your manager's words brought home what would happen if this got out. Maybe you should end this before anything bad happened? Then you saw Nalah perk up the second Sehun appeared and those thoughts left your head. If hooking up with Sehun wasn't good enough, knowing Nalah thought he was here for her when he was here for you made it even sweeter. Nalah's behaviour however began to really grate on you and you couldn't stop noticing it! Anytime the manager wasn't around Nalah would flirt none stop with Sehun and it was infuriating. She was so obvious and it wasn't even natural or subtle. You were all for girls being dominant and forward but she had zero reciprocation from Sehun but still wouldn't stop. Sehun quickly worked out something was odd and asked what was going on one week later. "She thinks you're into her" you said and Sehun laughed "isn't she like 12?". You smiled "no she's 19 but acts like a 12-year-old". "Even 19 is way too young for me. Why would I go near a 19-year-old?" Sehun asked and you smiled and kissed him. When you pulled back Sehun blinked his eyes opened and looked at you "what was that for?". "Because you're a good guy but there are a lot of bad guys who see nothing wrong with dating a girl way younger than them". Sehun shook his head "I have no idea why, if you were 10 years younger than me you wouldn't get all my references or find me funny" Sehun said and you paused shooting him a look. "Hey!" he said and you laughed "I'm kidding of course" hugging him and Sehun nodded "good" resting his head on yours "do you think Nalah will go away or should I say something?". You paused unsure what to say. You wanted to tell him to march in there tomorrow and shut her down but also didn't want to come across too possessive. You still weren't anything official and thought it wasn't your right. "You've gone quiet" Sehun said pulling away "what's up?". He looked at you "what are you thinking?". You sighed "that I'd really love you to shut her up". Sehun smiled "then that's what I'll do" and he kissed you "you only have to ask. I'm very good at taking directions". You smiled "so I've noticed" and with a grin Sehun came closer "but there are some things I know you like without having to be told" and he climbed on top of you and started to demonstrate. Sehun told you he'd tell her on Monday and so when he came into the studio you gave him some privacy and returned 10 minutes later to find Sehun gone.  Nalah was quietly working and you watched her trying to look for any sign she was upset. She was quiet which was odd in itself and you felt bad for her. Being that young and having a guy that looks like Sehun show you attention would've been a lot for any girl. You couldn't blame her and hoped she wasn't taking it too hard. "Do you need any help with that?" you asked trying to be nice. Nalah turned around and looked you up and down before nodding. You took some of the fabric and set it up on another sewing machine. She was off all day and left without saying goodbye to anyone. "What's with her?" Choonhee asked and you shrugged. Feeling bad but glad this was all over... You were too naive. Tuesdays were your favourite days because you started a few hours later due to scheduling demand but this one, in particular, should be fun because you had a fitting appointment with Sehun. Ever since you'd started seeing one another these appointments were very funny. It was just you and Sehun pretending you didn't know one another and trying not to check each other out the whole hour. Plus you still hadn't found a bad look on Sehun and loved dressing him up in different things and styling him how you liked. So you were in a good mood when you headed into work...until you saw Sehun already having his fitting with Nalah. Sehun looked at you the second you entered and looked confused. You took in the room and frowned "what is going on?". "Nalah said you wouldn't be in today" Choonhee said. You frowned "and where did you get that from Nalah?". "I thought you said you had a doctor's appointment?". "Yeah after work and I'm here...so want to tell me why you're working with my client?". She rolled her eyes "don't be so dramatic I'm helping you out". You nodded "well I'm here now so I can take over". "No I've started his fitting now so I'll finish it" she said turning back to Sehun, a smile on her face. "No you won't" you said and her smile fell. She turned around with a sigh "You're being childish. I'm already doing it so go and do something else". "No he's my client and I want to make sure it's done right so step away from him and put down the measuring tape". "Are you gonna make me?" she asked and you paused in shock. You could and wanted to attack her but that'd get you fired. You could go get your manager but that could get her fired and you didn't want to do that no matter your feeling for her. Nalah knew you'd never do anything too extreme and smiled turning back to Sehun. You thought that was it, you'd lost but you forgot you had someone in your corner. "Sorry about that interruption, now where were we?" Nalah said turning back Sehun. She went to touch his sleeve but he stepped back "I'd prefer if Y/n did it actually". You all froze and Nalah blinked "I...why? I'm just as good as her if not better!". "She's my stylist and I trust and prefer her" Sehun said and he moved away from her and came to stand with you. "You said she wasn't in but she is so I want her" Sehun said. You wanted to kiss him right then and there but couldn't of course. Seeing Nalah's angry face was almost as good though. She looked so angry you expected to see smoke coming from her head. "Fine!" she yelled throwing the measuring tape down "that's what I get for being a good person!" and stormed from the room. Choonhee laughed and nodded to Sehun "well done". Sehun wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not so you jumped in "she means that. Thank you from all of us for standing up to her". When Sehun realised it was a compliment he blushed and smiled at you "no problem...I never would've let her start if I knew you were here". "It's okay" you smiled at him "now should I start your fitting?". "Yes please" Sehun replied and you smiled getting the measuring tape. You completed Sehun's fitting with a lot of smiles and jokes. After he left Choonhee turned to you "Y/n I think Nalah might've been right about Sehun having a crush". You gaped and she shook her head "no not about it being her. Just about him having a crush...I think it's on you". You paused and blushed without even meaning to. You had no idea what to say so just acted as if you were blushing because of what Choonhee had said. "What makes you say that?". "The way he stood up to Nalah! He was very clear he wanted you, idols don't tend to get attached to their stylists but Sehun clearly likes you and I think he's been hanging out here because of you". You looked down "I...I don't think so". "Oh come on the way he was looking at you was so obvious! He likes you and you clearly like him too with how much you're blushing". You shook your head "I'm blushing because of what you're insinuating. He's a gorgeous idol". "And you're a beautiful woman he chose to be with" Choonhee smiled "no reason to be bashful Y/n". "I...have to finish this outfit" you said acting like you were too flustered but really you just wanted Choonhee to stop talking so she didn't pry too deeply. You didn't see Nalah for the rest of the day and figured she'd gone home *ill*. Which was just fine by you, you and Choonhee worked in peaceful harmony until she clocked out then it was just you. You were tinkering away at a jacket you were embellishing when the door opened. You figured it was Choonhee who always seemed to forget something so didn't turn around. Then you felt two arms around your waist and lips on your neck. You jumped but quickly realised who it was. "Sehun what are you doing here?" you laughed. "Are you kidding? I've been resisting the urge to come down here and kiss you ever since this morning" he replied. You might've been doing something similar and smiled "mhmmm and why is that?" you teased. "Because you were so hot and fiery this morning" Sehun replied. You smiled "well I could say the same thing for you fighting for me like that...it was really sexy". Sehun smiled turning you around so he could kiss you properly. You happily moved and stood up so you could reach him better. "You know what was also sexy?" Sehun asked "seeing you so possessive". You paused as Sehun said that because that was exactly what you'd been trying to avoid but he seemed to like it. "Possessive?" you asked and Sehun nodded "you were jealous weren't you. That's why you didn't like Nalah flirting with me". Sehun had a huge smile on his face and there wasn't any point denying it. "Well of course I wouldn't like that" you replied and Sehun's smile turned into a smirk "why?". "Because you're mine" you replied "not hers" and pushed Sehun down into the chair. He grinned and pulled you by your waist towards him "that's what I wanted to hear". You shook your head and sat on his lap "then all you had to do was ask" and kissed him. Typically at work, you were both more logical than emotional and would pull back before it got too far but today you didn't care. Sehun had done all that this morning for you and found your reaction hot. He wanted you to want him and that was so sexy. So you didn't care you were at work. Nobody else was here but you and this insanely hot idol who was yours, so you nodded to Sehun when he looked at you to check if he could go further and adored the smile that followed. However, not 5 minutes later the door opened and Choonhee screamed at the sight that greeted her. You quickly leapt off Sehun and both gasped. "Shit!" you said and Sehun tossed you your clothes "go after her!". You nodded and got back dressed before running out of the room...only to find Choonhee leaning against the wall right outside your studio. She looked at you when you came out "so I was right about Sehun's crush then huh?". You nodded "yeah kinda...". "Kinda?" she asked and you nodded "okay you were, we're seeing each other now can we go back inside and talk about this?". She nodded and you led her back into the room where Sehun was waiting very awkwardly. "So you're seeing each other?" she asked when neither of you went to talk. You nodded and Choonhee paused "since when?". "For 3 months now?" Sehun asked and you nodded "yeah soon after I got transferred to Sehun". "And what are you? Are you dating?". That made you both pause before shaking your head "erm no this is just casual" you said finally managing to meet Choonhee's eye. "Oh" she said "then Y/n in the nicest way...why are you doing this? You heard what our manager said to Nalah literally the other day". You nodded "I know..." when Sehun frowned "wait what did she say". You turned to him "that we would be fired for getting involved with an idol". "What!" Sehun asked "is that even legal? I knew it was frowned upon but I checked my contract and there's nothing in there that says I can't". You nodded "yeah but you're the talent, they can't exactly fire you". "But that's insane!" Sehun said "how is it any of their business". Choonhee shrugged "well imagine you cheat on Y/n or something and she has to see you every week and style you, it might affect her professionalism and she might start dressing you in bad outfits". "But we're not going to get like that I'd never...even if anything did happen we'd stay civil, right?" he asked you. You paused before nodding "I think we would but they don't know what which is why they have the rule". Sehun frowned "but Y/n why would you risk that? You love this job?". You shrugged "I guess I just like you". Sehun's face softened when he heard that but then he frowned again. "
Do you two...do this often at work?" Choonhee asked "because anyone could've caught you!". "No we don't usually get as far as today" you admitted and Choonhee sighed "good because if you're going to continue this and not get fired you can't let this happen. You're the one co-worker I like here Y/n and you're good. I don't want to come in one morning and find you've vanished". "I won't" you assured her and Sehun nodded "I won't let that happen to her". Choonhee looked from you to Sehun before nodding "okay then" and she grabbed the file she'd forgotten and walked out the door. Leaving you and Sehun alone and the silence was deafening.
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