chaoflaka · 10 days ago
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lokissweater · 2 months ago
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sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚
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{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.
warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.
word count: 9.6k
authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—
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yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.
you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.
you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.
and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.
that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.
that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.
he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.
and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.
“hello?”
you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.
“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”
“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.
yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.
a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.
“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.
“uh— milkshake?”
your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.
“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”
your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.
“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”
he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.
“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”
“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.
you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.
“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”
“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”
you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”
his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”
“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”
“fuck okay! jesus—”
you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.
and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.
he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.
he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.
“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”
“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”
“what the hell does that even mean?”
“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.
“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“
“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."
“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”
“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. and it sucks for you.”
“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”
“way fucking done.”
as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.
“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”
and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.
yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.
soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.
he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.
“you don’t—”
you shot up startled.
“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”
“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”
“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.
“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.
how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.
yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.
“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”
he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”
“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”
you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”
yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”
“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”
“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.
“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”
yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.
“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”
you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”
his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”
“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.
“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”
“like be mean? like them?”
you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”
“are all of your friends like that?”
“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”
yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.
he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.
“do you want… another elvis shake?”
you looked up. “what?”
“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”
“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”
he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”
and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.
you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.
“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”
“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”
the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.
yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.
“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”
“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”
“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.
“oh shit!—”
“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”
he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”
yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”
you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.
he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”
“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.
“i hope you feel better…”
your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.
“i do yuta… thank you!”
the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.
you paused in front of the jukebox again.
“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”
he picked his head up. “from earlier?”
“if— if you listen to elvis?”
“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”
you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.
“oh my god i love him too! so much!”
“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”
“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”
“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”
“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”
“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”
you gushed. “i like that one too!”
you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.
and he loved elvis.
“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”
you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”
you tilted your head. “really? why?”
“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”
“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”
“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.
“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”
your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.
“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”
“no?”
“no.”
you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”
“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”
“yeah!”
“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”
yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”
he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”
your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.
you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.
“you think i’m pretty?”
beautiful.
yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.
“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.
“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.
“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”
you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.
“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.
and he nearly just about died.
“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”
you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.
you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.
in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.
“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.
“what if i work here?”
he stopped.
“work here?”
“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”
he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”
“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”
yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.
“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”
“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.
“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”
you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.
“thank you thank you!”
yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.
“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”
you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.
“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”
“thanks thanks!”
and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.
“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”
yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.
yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”
“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.
“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.
his cheeks went pink.
“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”
yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”
“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”
yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”
his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.
“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”
“what’s so funny?”
you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.
“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”
“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.
“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.
“i said—”
“don’t say it!”
yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.
“yuta has a cru—”
“shut the fuck up!—”
you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.
yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.
“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”
you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”
yu.
“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”
“shut up!”
for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.
yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”
yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.
“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”
yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”
“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”
“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”
“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”
yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.
would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?
“m—maybe?”
“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”
“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”
yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”
he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.
he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.
“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.
“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.
he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”
“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”
with him.
yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.
there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.
that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.
so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.
maybe he should just ask?
“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”
he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”
“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”
yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”
“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”
he laughed.
“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.
you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”
yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”
“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”
“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”
you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.
but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
but this time it was different.
it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.
“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.
he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.
“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”
you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—
riinnggg!
you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.
but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.
“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”
yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.
“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.
he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”
“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”
“four?!—”
it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.
so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.
“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.
a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”
“do you wanna—” you stopped.
his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”
“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.
“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”
“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”
you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.
the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.
elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.
you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.
out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.
“yu…” you murmured.
he didn’t trust his voice.
“hm?”
“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”
what?
“kissed… you?”
“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”
yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”
your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”
“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”
the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.
your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”
he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”
his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.
your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.
did he say something wrong?
“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”
“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.
“i— i thought—”
your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.
“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”
yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.
“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”
“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”
his shoulders deflated.
“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”
you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.
yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.
he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.
you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.
of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.
the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.
a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.
yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.
when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.
you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.
the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.
through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.
and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.
but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?
yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.
but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?
by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.
you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.
by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.
“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”
yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.
“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”
“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”
“we were closing…”
“uh huh?”
“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”
“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”
“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“
“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”
“my bad…” yuta muttered.
“shit— whatever keep going.”
“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”
“you said other guys?”
yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”
“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”
“yes i did—”
“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”
“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”
“you rejected her.”
“what? no i didn’t—”
“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”
“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.
“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”
yuta stayed silent.
“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”
“holy fucking shit.”
why was yuji kind of smart?
“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.
“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”
yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”
you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.
“oh you have got to fix this.”
yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’
by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.
you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.
“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”
“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”
yuta bit his tongue. “please.”
he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.
“i don’t want it i’m okay.”
“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”
“i got sick of them.”
yuta froze.
you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.
it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.
“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”
the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.
“sorry what did—”
“are you mad at me.”
you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”
“are you upset with me?”
you hummed a no.
yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.
“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”
you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.
“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.
“you’re lying.”
you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”
“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”
“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”
he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.
“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”
“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.
“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”
you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.
“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”
“i love you.”
you paused.
yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.
you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”
“i love you.”
“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”
you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.
he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.
he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.
the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.
you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.
“are you lying?” you murmured.
his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.
“absolutely not.”
“but you rejected me.”
he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.
“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”
you couldn’t believe it.
“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”
“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.
“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”
“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”
he chuckled softly.
“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”
“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.
yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.
and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.
the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.
“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”
you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.
“how— what— when— where—”
you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.
“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”
“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”
he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”
yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”
“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”
your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.
“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”
yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”
“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”
“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”
your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.
“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”
“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.
yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.
he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.
yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.
“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.
“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”
“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”
he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.
but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.
yuta spoke after a moment.
“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.
“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.
he grinned. “yeah.”
you pulled back to face him.
“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”
his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”
“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.
“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”
you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”
you felt his arms tighten around you.
“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”
he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.
“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”
you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.
“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”
yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.
“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”
“cut. it. out!—”
and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…
but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—
that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.
forever.
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this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs
(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)
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osarina · 4 months ago
Text
ᡣ𐭩 WICKED LOVE WILL LEAVE ME BLIND
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dangerous games are played between you and dazai during one of the most important events of the year for the japanese underworld. you're never this risky, not when your reputation is on the line, but fuck being near him just seems draw out all of the worst in you.
(wordcount: 4.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia member!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, public sex, spitting, unprotected sex, gagging dazai w/your panties, switch!dazai, switch!reader. lmk if anything is missing!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: WOOWWWWWWW u all can thank tumblr user mioblobby for this one, she sent in an ask 3 days ago and this consumed me so badly that i dropped all of my wips to write this. anyway, enjoy dazai & pmreader being absolute FREAKS in public
His gaze hasn’t left you once all night. You can feel it dark and heavy from where he’s leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room, black coat hanging around his shoulders and a cold, unapproachable expression on his face, looking every bit the wraith people claim him to be. 
Chuuya is off somewhere to your side, smooth talking two of Mishima’s daughters, surely planning to end the night in one of their beds to get those loose lips moving about the meeting that their father had with Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber two weeks ago, something he’s been unnervingly tight lipped about when Mori pried. 
You’re entertaining two of the younger members of Mishima’s upper echelon, Abe Kimifusa and Ibuse Masuji—they can’t be much older than you, early twenties max, and they’re delighted by the attention you’re giving them. Ibuse is half hanging off your shoulders, arm wrapped around you, too many drinks in as he leans in close and laughs at some comment Abe makes about one of their fellow executives. You smile idly as you listen, resting against him as you take in their words, trying to pretend to be engaged with the conversation to not give away how you’re hyper-focused on a certain black-haired executive in the distance. 
Usually, he would join you and Chuuya in your attempts to gather some easy intel on the Sun and Steel—that’s what he’s done the past year and a half, at least, targeting some of the older members of Mishima’s upper echelon who would sell half of their organs and their soul for a night with the untouchable Demon Prodigy. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now, knowing what he told you, but you still can’t help but be a little surprised that he’s not even trying to put up a facade of charm and wit, rather spending his time skulking in the shadows watching you, especially when his usual targets are so blatantly staring at him, waiting for him to make a move.
You think it’s hypocritical the way you’re so pleased over the fact that he’s not entertaining anyone tonight, because the thought of him letting any of those men drape themselves all over him like Ibuse currently is with you leaves a very sour taste in your mouth.
You also think that’s why you’re letting Ibuse take it as far as he has—to see Dazai get wound up about it. You don’t typically let people get touchy with you unless you plan on taking them to bed, and you have absolutely no intention of fucking Ibuse Masuji. He’s pretty enough with dark hair and a nice smile, but too stupid for your taste—maybe that’s a good thing though, if he’s already so loose-lipped now with only a few drinks in him, you can’t imagine how much he’d let slip in a post-orgasm induced haze.
You start to reconsider your decision on Ibuse, looking up at him contemplatively as he makes a snide comment about Kamatsu Sakyo—an older executive of the Sun and Steel, one of the ones you know have spent a night, or more, with Dazai, so your smile is a bit more genuine when you hear the way Ibuse drags him for being incompetent and useless.
“The older generation has to go,” Ibuse hisses, shaking his head as his arm tightens around you, leaning back against the wall. “They’re running us into the fucking ground. That fucker Kamatsu wants us to take that deal from the Red Chamber-”
“Masuji,” Abe warns, giving you a careful look, not as drunk as his companion. You raise your eyebrows at the comment from Ibuse, looking at him questioningly.
Ibuse waves off Abe haphazardly. “The Port Mafia did it right,” he says bluntly, taking another sip of his drink. “Wiped out the whole old regime after the previous boss died. That’s what the Boss should’ve done when he took over from his father. All of these old fucks need to drop dead.”
“The meeting with Xueqin went that poorly?” you ask casually, sure to keep the interest out of your tone as you look up at Ibuse.
“Don’t even get me started,” Ibuse scoffs. “That fucker wants-”
You’re careful to keep the irritation off your face when you hear the telltale sound of Mishima preparing to give his annual ‘thank you, fruitful alliances ahead!’ speech that always bores you to tears. Next to you, Ibuse sighs and pulls his arm off of you, pushing off the wall.
“We’ve gotta go up there with him. I’ll find you later?” he asks you, eyes a bit too hopeful, voice eager as he waits for your response.
“Definitely,” you say—the things you do for information.
With most of the attendees of the ball distracted by Mishima’s speech, you slip away to make your way over to the far corner where Dazai is waiting. Still, he tracks you—from the moment you make your subtle escape from the crowd until you’re standing right in front of him in the shadows where he’s lingering, his gaze remains trained on you, intense in a way that lets you know that he’s unhappy, if the way his jaw is tight didn’t.
“You’ve been having fun tonight,” he drawls, voice low as he looks down at you, arms folded across his chest.
“Is that what it seemed like?” you say lightly, taking a step closer, casting one last glance behind you to ensure that all eyes are pinned on Mishima before hooking your fingers into his belt loops to tug him closer to you. “At least I’m doing my job properly then.”
“It’s your job to let Mishima’s whore of an executive drape himself all over you?” Dazai tilts his head to the side, one hand sliding behind you to close the small distance between the two of you, leaving your chest pressed to his.
No, you let that drag on just because you could tell how irate Dazai was becoming over it, but Dazai doesn’t have to know that. So instead, you play coy.
“I have appearances to keep up,” you say, tilting your head up with a simpering smile, enjoying the way his gaze immediately darts down to your lips, lingering there before he has to forcibly drag it back up to your eyes. “You know that.”
“Yeah?” Dazai hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze drifts above you. “Maybe I should be making more of an effort with appearances then, Kamatsu has had his eye on me all night.”
Your eye doesn’t twitch at his words, but your grip on his belt loops tightens. “You don’t want to play that game with me, Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice deceptively mild.
“And why is that?” Dazai drawls, looking too smug for your liking as he looks down at you as if realizing how much his threat bothered you.
“Because I’ll win,” you say easily, fingers slipping from his belt loops to slide your hands up and down his sides before settling them on his slim hips, relishing in the way his lashes flutter at your touch. “You know that. It’s unlike you to pick losing battles.”
“I won’t lose,” Dazai says with a scoff, and you walk him backward until the back of his knees hit a chair, guiding him back to sit down in it as Mishima finally starts a long-winded speech that’s going to last at least twenty or thirty minutes.
You give Dazai another teasing smile as you stand in front of where he’s sitting, lifting your hand to his chin, tilting his face up toward you. You lean down, lips brushing his as you murmur, “You already have.”
“Have I?” Dazai asks, amused. He unconsciously leans forward to capture his lips with yours but you shift just out of reach before he can, raising your eyebrows pointedly at the annoyed look he gives you.
You make quick work of undoing his tie, slipping it from his neck before wrapping it loosely around your wrist, hyper aware of the way his gaze is trained sharply on your face, studying your every move. You bring your other hand back up to his face, cupping his cheek gently, and your breath catches as he leans into your touch, eye lidded as he looks up atwith you. He tilts his head to the side to press his lips against your palm, keeping eye contact as he lifts his hand to cover yours, shifting it so he can graze his lips against the pulse point on your wrist.
“You have,” you agree, grateful that your voice isn’t as breathless as you feel from the combined intensity of his gaze and his lips on your skin.
“How so?” Dazai looks entirely too smug, probably can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, and you itch to wipe the smugness right off of his face.
“I’m meeting Ibuse after this speech,” you tell him, now entirely too smug yourself as Dazai expression drops and goes icy, fingers stiffening from where his hand is still pressed over yours. “Need to get him to spill about the meeting with the Red Chamber, he already started getting into it before. If I get him alone, we’ll know everything we need.”
“Go ahead,” Dazai sounds deceptively calm, you’d almost believe he didn’t care if the look in his eye didn’t betray him, cold and promising bloodshed. “I’ll kill him.”
“You’ll start a war,” you say absently, the tips of your fingers brushing through his dark hair.
“I don’t care,” Dazai replies, and you know that he’s serious—it should worry you, he could throw all of your work with the Sun and Steel out the window in a split second, but instead you only find yourself giddy, tongue pressing behind your teeth and a smile curving at your lips as you look down at him.
“Careful, Dazai,” you breathe out, “almost sounds like you care.”
He does care, you know that and he knows that, but he refuses to admit it out loud. Refuses to put a label on anything between the two of you. You think it’s his way of maintaining some semblance of control over things; he thinks that if he actually admits what’s going on between the two of you, it’ll be a loss of control over himself that he can’t afford. 
As if threatening to start a gang war with the Mafia’s most important ally because you’re planning to sleep with someone for vital information isn’t a loss of control in itself. 
You also think it might have to do with the broken gasps he’d let out over the phone during the assassination plot on you a few weeks ago, when he thought that he’d miscalculated and they called his bluff, that they were going to get to you and no one was going to be able to get there in time to protect you. 
“Everything I never want to lose is always lost the moment I obtain it.”
You wonder, maybe, if he thinks that not making things official with you is his way of protecting both you and himself. 
But it’s fucking frustrating. It’s frustrating dealing with his hot and cold—days where he’s so clearly enamored with you, spending hours laid up with you admiring you while you do work, looking at you with eyes that should only be reserved for long time lovers, and then there are days where he can hardly bring himself to look at you, avoiding you at every given chance, cold and aloof. It’s frustrating, and it’s exhausting, you just want to be with him.
His eye darkens, jaw clicking at your words, but he doesn’t respond other than that.
You’re not sure what exactly compels you to take another step forward, you watch as his gaze tracks down to the low cut of your dress, as he shifts in his seat, legs spread, clearly withholding the urge to adjust himself in his pants. A dangerous thought crosses your mind, one that you know you should toss away because of where you are, how many people are just on the other side of the room, but you find your body moving before you can stop yourself.
You watch him inhale, gaze tracking down to where your hand has slipped into the high slit of your dress, casting one last look over your shoulder to make sure the two of you are at an angle that no one would be able to easily see you before pulling down your thin black panties—the ones you know he loves and wore just to see the way the pupil of his visible eye becomes blown wide at the sight of them, breath hitching.
You shift closer to him, balling them into your fist, one hand sliding behind the back of his head, fingers entwined with his dark hair as you tilt his head back, eyes tracing the exhilaration on his face as he looks up at you, realizing what you’re going to do, where you’re going to do it.
“You’re crazy,” he breathes out. The words are reverent, he speaks them in the same way you imagine he would tell you he loves you, it makes your breath catch. “Here? What're you gonna do if one of them looks over and sees you stuffed with my cock, hm? How're you gonna explain why you're full of cum when you go meet that clown?”
“You talk too much,” you note, stepping forward. “Open up.”
Dazai’s lips part instinctively, but before you stuff his mouth with your panties, you lean over him, fingers hooking around his bottom lip as you force his mouth a little wider, watching as his breath hitches and his lashes flutter when you spit right into his open mouth, swallowing it immediately. 
Your lips curl up as you lift the hand holding your panties, taking in an unsteady breath as he lets you push your panties between his lips; he lets out a muffled groan around them, eyes sliding shut as if savoring the taste of them. You shift your dress around slightly so you can comfortably straddle his thighs. His hands immediately fly to your waist, but you click your tongue lightly, pushing them off and sliding his tie around his wrists once you’ve got them behind his back.
He tilts his head to the side, giving you a heavy, judgmental look. He doesn’t even have to speak to know what he’s thinking: “You really think this is going to stop me?”
You give him a sweet smile, leaning in to graze your lips against his jaw, feeling the shaky breath he lets out around your panties. “If you free yourself from them,” you murmur, lips brushing his ear as you speak, “I’ll stop.”
You don’t wait for his reaction, directing your attention down toward his slacks, loosening his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You ease his cock out of his briefs, weight heavy in your hand, tip flushed pink and leaky. You give it an experimental pump, using his own precum as lube, and watch as he tilts his head back, giving a full body shudder.
“You’re so easy to rile up,” you sigh softly, shifting forward so that his cock slides between your slick folds, you press your lips to the underside of his jaw to smother the moan you almost let out when his tip catches on your clit. “I love it.”
You know he’s trying to shoot you a withering look, but the effects of it are severely diminished with how his face is flushed pink and his eyes are unfocused. You give him another saccharine smile, and that’s the only warning he gets before you’re sinking down on his cock. 
You can feel every inch of him stretching you open, filling you up until the tip of his cock is nudging right up against your cervix. It takes all of your self control to bite back the loud gasp that nearly rips from your lips, not wanting to have to bury your face in the crook of his neck just yet, watching as he lets out a choked noise that’s loud even with your panties stuffed in his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Careful,” you warn, leaning in to drag your lips up his neck to the corner of his lips. You lift one of your hands to hold the back of his head again, gripping his hair as you force him to look at you again, fingers tugging hard at his hair. His gaze is unfocused, lips parting as he heaves around your panties, throat spasming—he looks fucking divine, and for a moment, you regret doing this here because you might have to kill someone if they see him when he’s looking like this. “You don’t want them to see you like this, yeah?”
You can hear the whine that builds in the back of his throat, trying to rock his hips up into yours. The sloppy sound of his cock driving into your cunt is too loud—Mishima is still speaking loudly, drowning out any noise that could possibly be coming from your secluded corner, but it’s so risky, you almost don’t know what’s gotten into you. If anyone happens to wander over this way…
“God, what do you do to me?” you gasp, leaning in so you can graze your teeth against his neck, threatening to bite down. 
You’re never this reckless—not when it’s your reputation on the line, you’ve spent years honing it into the weapon it’s become, and here you are risking it all just because Dazai Osamu decided to give you bedroom eyes during one of the most important events the Port Mafia attends. Fuck, he drives you insane.
His head lolls forward, forehead resting against the side of yours, lips brushing your ear. You can feel his heavy pants, each one catching over a moan muffled by your panties. You rock your hips back and forth quickly, each drag of his cock against your walls making you hot and lightheaded. Whether it’s just from the sheer pleasure of it all—the way the tip of his cock pressees right into that sensitive spot deep inside of you, the way he’s so quickly coming undone beneath you, body trembling and drool pooling at the corner of his lips around your panties—or if it’s because of the way anyone could wander over in this direction, catch you fucking Dazai so brazenly when there’s a crowd of one hundred and fifty, two hundred of the most important people in the Japanese underworld just on the far side of the room, you don’t know, but heat pools in your abdomen so quickly that it’s almost impossible to control. 
You can feel his breath ragged, his body tense, each roll of your hips against his has Dazai falling apart, and you can feel the telltale sign of his cock twitching inside of you, signaling that he’s about to finish. You tug his hair, pulling his head back from where it's fallen against you, and you lift your other hand quickly up to his lips, pushing them inside of his mouth to hook your fingers around your panties, pulling them out of his mouth.
Instantly, Dazai is pushing himself forward to press his lips against yours, freeing himself of his own tie so his hands can fly to your waist. You let out a low moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue into yours, one hand sliding from your waist to your back, keeping your body flush to his as he grinds you down on his cock hard.
“Fuck,” Dazai groans into your mouth, voice choked. You can see the way he can hardly keep his gaze steady, the way he’s gripping your dress to try to keep himself grounded. “I-ah, shit-I’m close. I’m-”
You lean in to swallow his moan, kissing him hard as his eyes roll to the back of his head, hips stuttering as he spills his cum deep inside of you. Your breath catches at the feeling of his cum filling you up, warm, heavy, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling out from where his cock is still stuffed deep inside of you; it’s the last thing you need to push you over the edge, mind blank and jaw falling slack as your body shudders in his arms.
Black dots spot your vision, your nails dragging down his black coat, your whole body consumed with pleasure—it hits you so hard that you think maybe you might’ve passed out for a split second. The feeling of your release sends a shockwave through Dazai, you can feel the way his body spasms and jerks when your walls suddenly tighten around his sensitive cock.
“God,” Dazai breathes out against your lips, eyes glazed over as the two of you come down from your high, an expression so adoring on his face that you think for a moment, you might be imagining it. “You’re so…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, leaves it to your imagination, and you want to press, but you don’t have the chance because you’re slapped hard with reality when you hear Mishima’s speech coming to an end, eyes widening. Your legs are shaky as you push off of him, hissing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your cunt—you almost snort when you see how Dazai twitches and winces at the sudden movement, still sensitive.
“Clean yourself up,” you tell him sharply, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, trying to catch sight of yourself in the reflection of a nearby glass, watching from the corner of your eye as Dazai stuffs himself back in his pants, wiping your cum off of his expensive black slacks before sucking it right off of his fingers. He grabs his tie from where he’d let it fall to the ground, and then your panties, winking at you before he stuffs them in the pocket of his jacket. 
His gaze lifts to you as he rises to his feet, drifting lazily over your form, lingering on the way your skin glows with a soft sheen of sweat, the loose strands of hair that cling to your forehead—something you hope you can play off considering the air condition in the ballroom isn’t on. Then his gaze settles down on the lower half of your body, lips curling up into a slow smirk.
He takes a few steps closer to you, holding his tie out to you. “Re-tie it?” he hums, and you roll your eyes because you know he can do it himself and you know he has some sort of ulterior motive right now, but you take it from him regardless.
You quickly slide the tie around his neck, trying to tie it quickly before anyone catches sight of the two of you, but with you so focused on getting this done, you miss the way his hand sneaks forward until you feel it slip into the slit of your dress. 
“Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice low, but your breath catches when you feel him gather up all of the cum that had dribbled out of your cunt, head falling against his shoulder as you try to force yourself not to react when he uses two fingers to stuff it right back inside of you.
You can feel the wicked grin against your ear as he leans down to tug your earlobe gently. “Good luck explaining this to Ibuse.”
Then he steps away, dark eye glittering dangerously as he looks down at you.
“I’ll find you later,” he says before turning to walk away.
You’re not sure if it’s a threat or a promise and you don’t have time to make a snide comment asking, because you hear Ibuse approaching you from behind, giddy and excited until he catches sight of Dazai’s infamous black coat retreating, swallowing thickly and eyes flickering nervously between the two of you—a common reaction to the executive’s presence, knowing how dangerous and unpredictable he can be.
You wonder if Dazai would make Ibuse half as nervous and uncomfortable if he’d known he just spent the last fifteen minutes with your panties stuffed in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back, whining and whimpering, muffling all of his sounds so people didn’t overhear the two of you. But you dismiss that thought—that’s knowledge for you to keep to yourself, you don’t like sharing.
“Let’s get out of here?” you hum, drawing him out of his thoughts before he can spiral.
He lights back up again, but you can tell he’s still nervous from Dazai’s brief appearance. “Yeah, c’mon.”
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Two hours later, you wander out of one of the back rooms in Mishima’s mansion, intent on getting back to headquarters. You don’t get more than two feet before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you backward hard until your back meets a familiar chest.
Your heartbeat stills from the brief bout of erraticness when you felt someone grab you, relaxing back into Dazai, tilting your head back and to the side to look up at him as he holds your hips, keeping you flush to him.
“Did you fuck him?�� Dazai asks, voice low and expression unreadable.
You have half a mind to say yes, just to see what Dazai plans to do if you did. He can’t kill Ibuse, not even he is reckless enough to start a war with the Sun and Steel right now, but you don’t think you want to risk it.
“Didn’t have to,” you say honestly. “He was babbling out everything I wanted to know before the doors even closed.”
Dazai searches your face for a moment as if trying to decide if you’re being truthful, when he does, one of his hands slips off your waist into his coat, and you hear the familiar sound of Dazai flipping the safety of his gun back on.
“Dazai,” you snap. “You can’t just-”
“I can do whatever I want,” Dazai interrupts you with the type of confidence that lets you know he had every intention of putting a bullet through Ibuse’s head if you fucked him, regardless of the consequences. The thought of that alone makes your blood run hot, pupils dilating as you look up at him; Dazai’s lips curve up slowly as if he knows just what’s going on in your head. He looks behind you curiously before focusing back down on you asking: “Is he passed out in there?”
“Mhm,” you agree, watching him curiously as you try to figure out what he might be thinking. “Drank too much.”
“Good,” Dazai murmurs, walking you right back into the room you’d come out of, a sharp smile on his face. He closes the door behind the two of you, gaze flickering over to where Ibuse is unconscious on the couch before he backs you up until your knees hit the corner of the bed, pushing you back onto it. “Let’s see if we can wake him up then.”
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shewroteaworld · 6 months ago
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The Aftermath
Premise: You're nearly killed on the job. Aaron is there to help you through the aftermath.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
TW: descriptions of canon-typical violence, brief mention of ableism, survivor's guilt
Word count: approx. 1,000
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The fraying threads of his throw blanket are the only things keeping you from crying. You pick at the red tassels, rolling them between your fingers over and over again. It’s a desperate Hail Mary. You’ve officially come unglued. You’re too shaken to do anything productive, like baking or taking a drive, without snapping into reality and breaking down. But the silence of nothingness is also too painfully loud. So you’re frozen, like an invalid, rhythmically stroking this fucking blanket because if you don’t, you’ll be there. 
You’ll see the gun perfectly pointed at the inches between your eyebrows. You’ll see his smirk, the way he smiled, as his partner tightened the binds around your wrists, the warmth of your own blood dripping down your fingertips as the gun inched closer and closer and closer. You’ll watch as he and his smirk take over your field of vision as the carbon steel of the gun barrel brushes your forehead. He moves into kiss you– the fucking freak– before a shot rings out, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ve heard your own death– as if your spirit you weren’t sure you believed in left your body and you’re observing your last moments in an astral projection. 
But you were listening to his death. The barrel of the gun fell away 100 times faster than it came as the unsub succumbed to the bullet through his temple. You screamed as you thrashed against the wooden pole, like a child screaming for a lifeguard. More shots rang out and you heard from roughly two yards behind you the crack of his accomplice's body smacking against the concrete. 
It was over. 
“Are you okay?” You flinch and whip around to the source of the hand that had the audacity to touch you. It was Aaron. You snap back into the present, and the coil in you relaxes. You force it back into its spiral before you come undone.
You allow yourself a moment to take in his face: the shadow of the deep set of his eyes and his signature tense brow. Your eyes disobediently drift to his torso and your breath hitches. You recall collapsing against it. You recall how the air in you and the room disappeared as you sobbed. You recall how he gently cupped your shoulder blade as you fell to pieces on his shoulder.
You recall how something in you froze when the paramedic touched your shoulder. How the fear choked you. 
You can’t breathe.
Aaron’s suddenly kneeling before you. “Are you okay?”
You scratch your head. Your eyes burn. “I’m…” You rub the tassels between your fingers. “I’m losing it.” You whisper. 
“You’re not losing it.” 
“How would you know?” You ask genuinely.
“I know you.” He says gently. He pauses. “What you’re feeling is normal and right. It would be worrying if you weren’t affected by what happened.”
“Of course I’m affected by what happened.” It spills out of you before you can block it along with a few rogue tears.
He reaches for the coffee table and grabs a tissue. He offers it to you. You smear your cheeks dry.
“We can talk about it." He says. "I’m here to listen or talk with you if it will help.”
You were silent when the medics checked you over. You were silent on the jet ride. Aaron let you exist in your silence even when you both knew you would have to puke up the intimate details for an incidence report for the FBI that would be scrutinized by higher-ups and mental health officials. The most violating moments of your career, from start to finish, would be under the detective lights of anyone with the authority. It would be immortalized in some database. The most terrifying experience of your life couldn’t even just be yours.
You both knew that, even if he couldn’t know how much it terrified you to your bones– how violated you felt– to have your life like that on display to whomever it may concern. But he allowed you to cling to your safety blanket all the same.
But now you were off the jet and not in prying eyes. And though, over the course of your blissful yet short love affair, you knew he would not go away quite as easily. You suspected he wouldn’t pry; it wasn’t in his nature. But he would make it clear how open he was. And knowing you, and feeling the emotions bubbling against the lid of the pot you’d trapped them in, you felt like you had two options. And you didn’t like either.
“I don’t…” You swallow. “I’m upset.”
He gently grabs your hand like he’s cupping a fragile thing. When you don’t jerk, he squeezes it. The knot begins to unfurl and before you can register it, more tears stream down.
“I feel like I should’ve been ready for this, but I’m not.” You admit.
“Being held hostage?” He asks gently.
You sniffle. “It’s my job.”
“It’s not your job. Your job is to solve crimes. That was not another job responsibility. That was a traumatic experience.”
You sob. He cups your wet cheeks. 
“I’m here.” He says. “I’m right here.”
“How can I go back to work after this?”
“You don’t have to bounce back.” He assures.
“I feel…I feel…I can’t put it into words.” You wipe your face in frustration.
“Is trying to explain it helping or hurting?”
You sniffle, mucus uncomfortably coating your throat. “I think it will help if I…stop being so hard on myself.” You confess. “It’s just…I feel so frozen. I still feel frozen.”
“It’s normal to feel that way directly following something like this." He says gently.
You shake your head. “No, I’m not talking about the aftermath. I’m talking about during. When I was tied there.” You swallow thickly. “When he had me.”
“I couldn’t breathe.” You continue, grateful he gave you a moment of silence to pull your thoughts together. “I was…helpless. At their mercy and I…I...”
You squeeze the blanket in a white knuckle grip. “How could they do that to me? How could that happen to me? How can…how can I feel this way?” 
His eyebrow furrows. “What do you mean?” You know he can feel the guilt radiating off of you.
“He killed those other young women. Mutilated them. Violated them. I was the lucky one, wasn’t I?” your voice cracks.
“No. No one is lucky in a situation like this. Your pain is valid and doesn’t take anything away from his other victims.”
“I feel helpless.”
“It’s okay to feel helpless.” 
Something in you jumps at his response. “What do you mean?” You sniffle.
He bites his tongue. You see that furrow in his expression– like he’s weighing his approach. “Your life was in grave danger. The pain won’t go away; your mind and body need time to heal. And I swear I will take care of you as long as you need. You have all the time in the world to recuperate.”
“What about–”
“You don’t need to worry about work right now. All I want you to do is worry about you.”
Your lip can’t help but quirk upwards. “Pot meet kettle.”
He smiles. “Pot meet kettle.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m here for you.”
“I love you too.”
He hugs you, his arms warming you through the cover of the throw blanket. You’re can't comprehend how you will heal from this. But in his arms, you know you won't be walking alone.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Grateful for you <3
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vveirdvvitch · 1 month ago
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Look! I wrote a dirty little piece of fanfiction featuring Edward Nashton!
Edward Nashton X Fem!Reader
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Warnings: fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut, fluff, porn with very little plot
Summary: Eddie does you a favor
Heaven Tonight
Edward trudges up the stairs to his apartment. It had been another torturous day at the office and he was looking forward to getting back to his real work. Cleansing the city would finally give him the satisfaction he had been seeking. Nothing would keep him from obtaining his goal to purge the rotten decay at the heart of Gotham.
He rounded the landing and began the climb up the last flight when a curious sight made him forget briefly about his plans for the evening. There you sat on the filthy hallway flooring in front of your apartment door which was across the hall from his own. He pauses at his door and watches as you tap away on your phone.
And then it happens. It had happened before and each time was a special gift Edward treasured. You lift your head up and smile at him.
The first time had been approximately 8 and a half months ago when you first moved in. He had been coming home from work and nearly ran into you when you headed down for more boxes.
“Whoops! Hey sorry neighbor!”, and that 1000 watt smile had him forgiving you instantly.
He didn’t mind accidentally receiving your mail. Now he knew your name. Now you would greet him with a warm smile and say, “Thanks Ed! I don’t know why the dang mailman keeps doing this.”
“Hey Edward!” Why you were always so friendly was beyond him. He turned it over and over in his mind. Was it a trick? Were you stupid? Were you perhaps the only genuinely kind person in all of Gotham?
Ed gave you a timid tight-lipped smile, “hey, what are you doing down there?”
“Oh you know, trying to get a hold of my sister who is far too busy with her new girlfriend to care about what I’m doing, as well as our good for nothing landlord.” You paused and gave him a quizzical look, “Well, I don’t know our landlord's dating status just that he can’t be bothered to answer.”
It was Edward’s turn now to look puzzled. You pointed behind yourself towards the door, “Key broke off. I can’t get in.”
He nodded and gently huffed, “Ah!”
“So I’m down here until someone either responds or I get desperate enough to call some weirdo who decided to become a locksmith.”
The wheels of his mind clicked into motion. He could probably solve this for you with his pliers and his lock picks, but he couldn’t be sure if you would react negatively or positively. Who has a set of lock picks at the ready? Definitely a creep.
He didn’t want to freak you out and he couldn’t let you sit here in the hallway by yourself. There was no telling what kind of degenerates occupied this building. He looked to his door, key in hand.
“Um,” Edward swallowed thickly, “you could wait inside with me.”
The lock clicked and the knob turned. The wheels spun up again. Dread fell upon his shoulders like a sodden cloak. He couldn’t let you inside! One step and you would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was, in fact, a creep. A psycho. Ed-weird. His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat threatened to cover his whole body in a clammy sheen as every conceivable bad ending raced through his mind. You screaming in horror as you ran from him; You slapping him hard across the face in revulsion; You shrieking at him with unbridled rage, “let me out of here you psychopath!”
No, surely you would politely decline with another of your sweet candy smiles. Then he could suggest waiting at the diner on the corner while he took the time to vet locksmiths.
Just as he was pulling the door back towards himself you were up on your feet and pushing past him with a cheerful grin.
“Thanks Ed! I think my butt was falling…” you trail off as you truly begin to take in your surroundings. Newspaper clippings covered in large, red letters and threatening phrases paper most of the walls. Piles of ledgers, various tools, and unrecognizable contraptions litter every available surface. It all feels so surreal as you turn slowly looking for anything to give you an answer. This must be a dream. And if it is a dream, then you can do whatever you want to do.
Your gaze lands back on Edward. Still standing in the doorway looking like he might vomit or pass out. From his sudden pallor you guessed both. Your eyes make contact with each other. His big, murky green eyes full of panic pull at your heartstrings. A dream you tell yourself again.
Without too much thought, you let the words tumble out of your mouth. “Can you do me a favor Eddie?”
His eyebrows knit together in confusion but he nods.
“If you’re gonna kill me, could you at least fuck me first?”
Panic bubbles in his chest as he chokes out a strangled, “What?”
“Well,” you glance about the room again, “this is kind of a textbook serial killer apartment,” your eyes connect once again with his, “And I am the kind of dumb girl who will follow a cute guy anywhere.”
Edward’s heart stops. The wheels of his mind screech to a halt. Cute. You think he’s cute. This was not a scenario he had considered.
His face softens as he finally closes the door behind him. You find the both of you slowly crossing the room towards each other. As if your feet have no intention. They follow some magnetic drum. Prisoners of their destination.
Until the two of you stand mere inches apart. Head tilted back to look him in the eye. Heart pounding your gaze darts between his eyes and lips. The pink tip of his tongue protrudes ever so slightly to wet those lips. Before you can think too much about it you push yourself up on your toes and smash your mouth inelegantly against his. The force pushes a small squeak from your throat.
The sound snaps Edward from his tether. His arms crush you to his chest, hands pawing at your back. His form is soft yet solid against you and his fervor elicits a soft moan from your now parted lips. He takes this as your sign to deepen the kiss and his tongue begins a passionate exploration of your mouth. His hunger and inexperience make his kisses feral.
Teeth click together. Tongues clash and lick. Saliva runs freely. Drool accumulates at the corners of your mouths. Edward walks forward pushing you back towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss. His apartment is small like yours and it isn’t long before you feel the mattress hit the backs of your calves. You fall backwards onto the mattress and stare up at him.
Edward allows himself a moment to take it all in. He feels compelled to burn the image into his memory. You splayed on his bed, eyes glassy, lips parted and panting. The spitting image of delicious prey.
Carefully, as though he is trying not to spook you, he climbs onto the bed and crawls up your body. His breath is warm on your face as he leans down once again to capture your lips with his own; However the new angle causes his glasses to slide down his nose and hit you in the face.
Any tension you may have had dissolves at his soft giggles. “Sorry,” He says as he folds his glasses carefully and places them on the nightstand.
His reach pulls up the fabric of his shirt just enough to reveal the smallest sliver of his tummy. You take the opportunity to snake your hand through the gap to feel the softness for yourself.
Edward tenses, almost pulling away. Your free hand goes to the back of his head. Threading your fingers through his soft downy hair, you guide him back down for another kiss. This time his lips are hesitant. The hand still under his shirt glides over his side to his back. You dance your fingertips over the smooth skin and knobs of his spine.
His eyes flutter closed. A slow whine pushes out of his nose as his body and lips melt back against yours. It isn’t long before you feel his fingers pull at the hem of your top, so you adjust yourself enough to pull the garment up and over your head, tossed to the side. Goosebumps form on your arms and chest as Edward gapes open-mouthed at you in your modest cotton bra.
“Your turn,” you almost whisper.
Edward takes a deep breath, steeling himself against his self-consciousness. He unbuttons his shirt just enough that he can pull it and the t-shirt underneath up and over his head. While he is distracted with his task you reach behind yourself, easily unclasping your undergarment. You add it to the growing heap of discarded clothes at the same time as Edward’s shirts. A sound like the combination of a groan and a whine squeezes from his throat. The cool air causes your sensitive peaks to tighten.
The sight sends Edward into a ravenous frenzy once again. His nose crashes into the flat of your sternum and his hands crawl up to the fleshy mounds now on either side of his head. His hands knead the soft tissue and fingertips dance around your ever hardening nipples as his tongue slides across your skin.
Wanton moans pour out of your mouth at the sudden cascade of attention to your breasts. More fuel for Edward’s fire. You writhe and sigh when his wet persistent tongue travels up the side of your breast and he takes the nipple into his mouth.
Equally perverse sounds bubble their way out of Edward, his mind peacefully blank as he suckles. Your legs are tangled together and he absent mindedly humps your thigh. His hardness easily felt through the thin fabric of his cheap slacks.
Your right hand returns to his dark blonde locks, fingers tightening and pulling him off of you with a soft pop when your nipple is pulled free of his lips. You gaze on his love drunk face with its wet puppy eyes and slackened jaw. Gently you guide him to the other breast. Edward resumes his devotions to your pleasure while you reach your free hand down towards his pants.
Your fingers pull clumsily at the latch on his belt. A frustrated grunt at your failure breaks Edward from his ministrations. He looks down to where your fingertips struggle and notices the small wet dot on the crotch of his pants. You’re going to think he’s a pervert. Panic grips him yet again, until he hears your voice husky with arousal.
“Take them off.” You lick your lips before adding, “please?”
His heart leaps into his throat and he finds himself wrenching his belt loose and scrambling out of his khakis faster than he thought possible. There is a moment's hesitation before he pulls down his boxer briefs. But then he sees you are squirming out of your own pants and panties all at once. And so his underwear joins its brethren on the floor.
Edward doesn’t have time to worry about the size of his cock or what it looks like bobbing up and down, leaking precum. He would worry but the distance between your knees keeps increasing. He feels like he is watching a time-lapse of an orchid blooming, the petals unfolding to reveal the true beauty within.
As you lean back on your elbows, legs bent at the knee and falling to either side, Edward stares hungrily; a starving man crawling across the desert on hands and knees. Your sweet cunt an overly ripe peach on the verge of decay, splitting at the seams with musky juices. The promise of satiety.
Edward has never committed this particular act before but the sirens’ song of your wet, pink pussy is simply too much to resist. His arms crawl beneath your legs and wrap around your thighs. Fingers gripping lest you change your mind, close your legs, and deny him what he now considers his singular goal.
You would never, of course. In this moment, your only desire is to give in to him. You’ll do anything if it means he will continue. You’ve never felt desired like this before. Like you are a benevolent goddess offering sustenance to your most loyal servant.
His gaze flits up to yours. With a small smile and nod you award him approval. Tentatively he presses his lips to your right thigh. First a chaste kiss. Then a light flick of tongue. A gentle nibble. Briefly his breath hits your sensitive throbbing sex but your torture is prolonged when you realize he is simply moving to do the same to your other thigh.
Desire coils within your pelvis. The ache overwhelms you, your need too great.
Your whines and moans fill Edward with a confidence he was unaware he could achieve without his mask. His breath is cool and sharp on your wetness as he comes to feast on you at last.
First, a chaste kiss. You throw your head back and shudder, amazed at how such a simple action could feel so electric. Then a light flick of tongue. Your elbows give way, landing you flat on the mattress. A gentle nibble. Your thighs clamp together to hold him hostage against you at the same time your hand flies to the back of his head.
“Ahhhhh! Eddie!!! Ahhhh!” You moan his name.
A beautiful woman is moaning his name.
The wheels in Edward’s mind begin to turn yet again. He cannot lose this. He needs to know how to recreate this result. He will master this puzzle. Unleashing his tongue to explore your folds, he begins to catalog every twitch and sound you make.
The flat of his tongue licking you like an ice cream cone draws a low moan. The pointed tip drawing circles around your clit cause you to buck and hiss. He kisses, sucks, and licks. You pant, shake, and writhe. He pulls your labia into his mouth. You growl and arch your back off the bed. He pushes his slick muscle into your aching hole. Your eyes go crossed as you whine and shiver.
It is impossible to tell how much time has passed. Every touch from Edward is electric pleasure. What started as sloppy-yet-eager has become a determined assault on your pulsing cunt. Your head lolls to the side and you can see him buried between your thighs, nose pressed to your clit. Sensation and image combine to launch you into ecstasy.
Your hips buck. Moans blur into growls blur into a purr. You feel your insides tighten and relax. Tighten and relax. A gush of fluid rushes into Edward’s mouth which he drinks gratefully.
Panting, he pulls back to look back up at you. His eyes glassy with lust and triumph. Face glistening with your release. Never have you seen something so erotic.
Your hands dart out and clutch his shoulders, “Eddie please, I need you. I need you in me.”
Edward pushes a sharp breath out of his nose. This is it. Jaw clenched, he reaches for his bedside table and pulls a condom from the top drawer. Not that he had many lovers, just that sometimes economy of cleanup during certain solo activities was tantamount.
With shaking fingers he rips the package open and tosses the wrapper away. He tries to steady his breathing and roll the condom on his turgid member. Lips pursed in concentration, eyes closed, Edward takes a deep grounding breath.
His absence is too much. You wiggle yourself closer to him and whisper seductively, “Please Edward.”
His eyes snap back open. His face set in determination he leans himself towards you. Propping himself on up his elbows over you. You simply can’t take it any longer. Before he can make another move you snake your hand between your legs and grasp him firmly eliciting a growling moan from the usually stoic man.
He is thick and firm in your palm. Twitching with excitement. You guide him towards your entrance, rolling your hips up to take in the tip. Seemingly of their own volition, Edward’s hips come crashing into yours, sheathing himself in one fluid motion. If you weren’t so aroused it may have been painful but all you can feel is a delicious fullness. Sparks ignite behind your wide eyes.
Edward takes a deep shuddering breath and pulls back slowly, looking down to see where you connect. He nearly pulls all the way out before sliding back in. The pace he sets is tortuously slow. Dragging his full length in and out. Your eyes roll back in your head, legs shaking. Edward has the sudden desire to never cum. To simply slide in and out for eternity. Perhaps that would be heaven.
Warmth and desire pools in your belly. Your legs come up to wrap around his hips. Your arms wrap around his torso. Still he continues to go much slower and gentler than what you crave.
“Please Eddie faster, please” you sob into his shoulder.
Unable to do anything but give in to your request, his pace quickens. He screws his eyes shut tight and wills himself to hold out. To remain here inside of you for as long as possible.
Edward nearly loses his control when your nails dig into his back and you wail, “Harder!”
A high pitched whine builds deep within him as he pistons himself into you. This is what you had been craving. Him rutting like a crazed buck in heat.
You pitch your hips up in time with his. Wet slapping sounds echo around the room peppered with guttural moans and hisses of pleasure.
Jaw clenched, Edward uses every ounce of willpower he has to maintain his pace, holding back just enough to avoid falling over the edge. No small feat as you thrash beneath him. Gasping. Clawing at his back. Digging your heels into his ass.
“Ohmygod, Eddie! Mm gonna cum!” Your body engulfs in fire, every nerve alight with ecstasy. You become weightless, out of time and space as your orgasm crashes through you.
Edward feels the rush of warm liquid. Your soft, slick walls clamp down on him like a vice. The muscles contract in waves to produce a milking sensation. He does not slow, fucking you through your orgasm and quickly catching up to his own.
A sweet languid smile graces your flushed face as you come back down from your peak. You are so beautiful, so angelic in his eyes.
A dark possessiveness overcomes him. His thrusts come even faster. More wild than before. He buries his face into your neck and growls, “Mine.”
The word unlocks something within you. Your arms and legs curl around him tighter as you gasp your reply, “Yours.”
His teeth sink into your neck. You feel his growls reverberate in your whole body as he repeats it over and over. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
The tension in his abdomen becomes too much to bear. He feels his scrotum tighten in anticipation of release. Edward seats himself inside your warmth as deeply as he possibly can. A strangled cry rips from his lungs as he cums inside of you.
As the spots fade from his vision and his ragged breath evens out, the full realization of what has transpired comes over Edward. The pretty girl from next door was beneath him. Naked. The woman he had pined over since the very first time she had smiled at him was flushed and breathing unsteadily.
Cold spiney fingers of panic start clawing at his chest. The questions don’t just run at lightning speed through his mind, they tumble speedily from his lips.
“Um A-are you okay? Uh did you uh c-cum? Was was I good?”
Edward’s face burns with embarrassment at his clumsy pillow talk.
Until your face once again brightens with a smile, “Yes, oh yes and oh my god yes!!”
You punctuate each affirmation with a kiss, gazing back at him adoringly.
His heart swells beating back the icy grip of panic. He lets out a breath he did not know he was holding and gently untangles himself from you.
Edward carefully slides the condom off his now softened member and ties off the end. He places it gently on the nightstand. Cringing at the sickening squish sound it makes.
He picks up his glasses, places them on his face, and turns back to you. “Um do you need anything? What should I do now?”
Your face splits into a warm smile, “Just cuddle me, silly.”
You open your arms up to him and he slides down to lay beside you. Arms wrap around each other and legs entangle together. Edward grabs the blanket and pulls it over you both at an awkward angle. You idly play with his hair and a contented sigh escapes you.
“Hmm I guess this means you’re not gonna kill me huh? “ you say with a tired laugh.
“No,” you can feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck, “but I might chain you to the radiator.” A high pitched almost manic giggle bursts from him.
You join him with your own laughter crazed from the whirlwind of emotion. You didn’t know if he was kidding or not. Or if you even cared.
End
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noemilivv · 9 months ago
Note
Hi 👋,
If you're still taking requests, I absolutely loved the most recent one you did with Lucifer, Adam and Vox proposing and marrying their s/o.
If possible could you do one similar to that but for Husk and Alastor?
If not, it's totally cool and I'm loving your work 😊
hellooo, dw i’m still taking requests haha, yeah i can do that for you!! the first part was undeniably fun to write so obviously i’ll do it again for ya haha
Warnings: None(?)
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Alastor Proposal + Wedding Headcanons
Alastor never really knew what love truly felt like, until he met you, from that alone — he knew you were the one
His proposal was simple, but still very gentlemanly, his shadows were his band, playing some of your shared favorite songs, and Alastor stood in a different suit than the one he normally wears, a black version with a red streak instead of the white line that goes down the collar
He stood in the center of your room in the hotel, awaiting for you to get back from work, with a bouquet of spider lilies in his hands and a ring box in his pocket.
When you arrive, he has a soft and gentle smile on his face, in contrast to the big grin he usually shows, he didn’t feel vulnerable or at risk with you, so he could wind down with you
He hands you the bouquet and gets down on one knee, taking your ring out of the box, holding it to you, as his other hand takes yours in his and kisses the back of it
“My dearest and truest love, you have made me feel more alive than I ever have, even in my years on Earth.” He started, his radio affect softer than you’ve ever heard it, it’s unlike him, given he usually has a more cheery tone.
“You have showed me what love truly feels like, what in feels like in here —” He said, putting a hand to his heart, “That being said, would you make me the happiest man in Hell and be my lawfully wedded spouse?”
You and Alastor have a wedding almost immediately, thanks to his magic staff.
The ceremony is like any other, other than the fact your soon-to-be husband has a massive fucking grin on his face that did not falter the whole time, other than when you came down the isle, and it seemed to inch up his face more.
When it came to the kiss, he does turn you both around as he does not enjoy displaying affection infront of others, but he also won’t break tradition, so…
The reception is nowhere near boring, he knows how to have a good time, there’s excitable jazz music that has a good chunk of guests swaying and moving their feet
He also may or may not freak out some family members of yours…but that’s okay!
He also does not wish to be in wedding photos, due to his opinions on modern cameras and tech, but will for you, and either way, he knows his grin fucks up the photos in contrast to your beauty so he doesn’t really see the point tbh — but he’ll most likely make you guys use an old camera for effect
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Husk Proposal + Wedding
Headcanons
Husk genuinely did not care to get married, well, he would be fine if you did, but he was content the way you both were, but he knew how much of a romantic you were so…
Quite frankly, he probably had the laziest proposal out of everyone I’ve written for for this, while you guys were laying in bed, bitch asked you if you would ever wanna get married and proceeded to basically chuck the ring box at you.
You and Husk were in your shared bed. It was late, you were just about to doze off for the night, until you heard Husk’s gruff voice pipe up.
“I have a question for ya.” He said, staring at the ceiling with you on his furry chest. “And that is?” you ask, popping your head up in curiosity,
“Would you ever wanna get married?” He asked, looking down at you, a soft and subtle smirked played on his lips. “Oh!- Uh, probably!” You answered, a bit thrown off by the question.
“‘Kay, great.” Husk muttered, plopping the ring box in between you two. “Husk, what the fu-”
Yeah before you could finish he was already asleep 😛
Husk mainly leaves wedding planning to you, not cause he’s a dick, but it’s just not his thing, he will help out when need be though
At the ceremony, Husk is holding back a couple tears, only a few though!
He never saw himself as the sentimental type, and he knows he didn’t really have the desire to do this in the first place, but now? He knows he made the right choice, even if it was at 2 in the morning.
The reception is chill, it’s kinda just sitting around and chatting, and yes there’s a bar, and Husk is pissed he can’t work it.
There’s chill jazz music in the back, but it’s not like Alastor’s where it had people swaying, it was more soothing, and it wasn’t like Adam’s where people were absolutely bopping to music either
You guys still don’t know if you’re having a honeymoon, Husk is still way too tired and way too hungover to make that decision.
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haikyu-mp4 · 6 months ago
Text
Monster
word count; 979 – gn!reader who is shorter than Tendo
I had the idea to write two different reactions depending on the reader being either more extroverted or more introverted, feel free to read both or either option:)
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It was raining outside, which made your little stroll to the vending machine all the more pleasurable. The sound of the little raindrops falling on the buildings, lawn and concrete was quite therapeutic. All because you were under a roof, of course, you were not as excited to cross the lawn in a minute to meet your boyfriend after his volleyball practice in this weather. Typical of you to never bring an umbrella.
You put in some coins, clicked the button and crouched down to pick up your strawberry milk before straightening up again and turning back around. Annoyingly enough, you were met with a startling wall. Two guys were standing a bit too close to just be in line for the machine, and the looks in their eyes were mischievous in a bad way. It’s the kind of eyes people say Tendo has even though all you ever see in them is endearment.
“You’re the one dating that monster, aren’t you?” one of the guys said while the other one huffed as if it was funny.
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Tough extroverted reader
“Can I help you?” you asked back with a confused expression, not seeing any reason why you’d discuss your dating life with these guys. You opened the milk and took a sip before tilting your head to await their answer.
“We should be asking you that. Someone so pretty stuck with such a freak. What’s he threatening you with?” The guy kept talking, truly stepping on thin ice. You scrunched your nose and took another sip, not exactly comfortable with the situation but not wanting to leave without defending your boyfriend either.
“You jealous or something? I’ll let you know I’m perfectly happy with my dating life.” You take a step closer to the guy who apparently did all the barking. “And his name is Tendo Satori,” you said in a clear voice as if trying to burn the name into their brains. If they were going to call him a monster, it better be because of how he rules the volleyball court. You had half a mind to tell them that as well, but the moment was interrupted.
Their eyes were slowly cast in a shadow before they could respond. If only you could see the reflection in their eyes of your boyfriend’s smirk behind you. “That was pretty hot.” Tendo finally says after letting you answer them yourself. It startled you a little, before relaxing into his touch stroking down your arm. You leaned your shoulders back on his chest, a cocky smile on your face from watching the other guys lose their confidence. Tendo leaned down and obnoxiously kissed your cheek to make a point before lifting a hand towards the boys and shooing them away. “You heard them.”
“Whatever, weirdos.” They put on some tough faces that weren’t very believable, and you turned around to Satori while they scurried away. Being weirdos together definitely wasn’t that bad.
“Satorii,” you purred, happy to see him.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Again.” He said, obviously trying to be aloof about it, but you could see through it.
“I’m sorry too,” you said with a soft smile, knowing he knew what you meant, before grabbing his hand and tip-toeing to peck his cheek. “I thought I was meeting you?”
“I know you didn’t bring an umbrella,” he answered, finally showing a genuine smile. “My dorm? I’ll make you something sweet.”
“Yes, my prince.”
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Soft introverted reader
You felt your pulse quicken with angst, eyes not meeting theirs but rather desperately hoping someone you know would pass by. “Can I help you?” you asked carefully, wishing that if they had to talk about your boyfriend behind his back, they would do it behind yours too. A blind person could see you were not the confronting type.
“We should be asking you! What kind of freak are you to be dating that?” he said, a cruel comment that didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you mumbled, avoidant as ever. Why would they care about your dating life anyway?
“Won’t you at least look at us with those pretty eyes, monster-lover?” the other one said, taking an unwelcomed step closer.
“He's not a monster,” you said, making an attempt at defending your boyfriend but still feeling tears brim your eyes from the confrontation.
Finally, you saw your salvation, like a stream of light finally peering through the clouds and hitting your face. The two boys were about to turn around when they saw your eyes lock on something between them, but were stopped as Tendo grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled them back, giving you space to breathe. “But I can be... if you ever make them cry,” he said in a goofy albeit frightening voice. His eyes crept from one boy to the other as if making sure the threat sank in before passing them and taking your hand to lead you away. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles while you walked before letting your hand go so he could open his umbrella and hold it above you. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said softly, trying to seem like he didn’t care about himself, just that you had to hear it.
“It’s okay. They were being shitheads anyways,” you huffed, anger seeping in now that you didn’t have to face them anymore.
“Ooh, language, baby.” Tendo laughed and looked down at you with adoration flowering in his eyes.
“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing your shoulder into his before tucking your arm around his closest arm so you could walk together even if he held the umbrella. Safe to say that anger dissipated quickly.
“I’ll treat you to some A-class cuddles for standing up for me like that. My dorm?”
“Yes, my love.”
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masterlist
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sleepingdayaway · 10 months ago
Note
GAGGGRGRGRG IMMEDIATELY RUSHED TO THE ASK BOX WHEN I SAW UR REQUEST WERE OPEN I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, WOULD IT BE ALRIGHT TO ASK FOR A PART 3 TO THE PLAYER HAS YHE FIERE DEITY MASK??? IF NOT JUST IGNORE THIS REQUEST!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY
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HSDFBAEJRBFUHVFDB HOLY CRAP??? I DIDN'T EXPECT FOR YOU GUYS TO HONESTLY LIKE THE FIERCE DEITY STORY.
Once again! It's short so my bad. When I first wrote this it was supposed to be just 1 part lol didn't expect y'all to genuinely like it. :)
Characters: Time, Fierce Deity, and Reader
Warnings: None
The silence was so loud after those words were spoke.
The group of blondes all looked at the eldest in fear that the man would just pounce on the poor individual who, quite obviously, has no idea on what is going on. Who has just simply grown attached to the first thing that showed them kindness after being woken up in a place that wasn't their home.
"What in the actual fuck?"
Time is regretting even trying to bargain with the individual as they hold one the most dangerous mask, in their hands.
Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to simply lunge for it, but Time's rational part of himself is refusing to submit. It would be unfair to them. Really, the person looked exhausted, their body tensed as if they were fighting moments before they arrived. There was also a slight hint of fear and caution in their eyes as they scanned him and his friends. Subtle signs that they might've used the mask before they arrived, which surpised him that the young adult is still standing.
Said person flinched back at his words. Unconsciously fidgeting with Fierce Deity in their hands. "He says your name is, Link," they continued with a look of hopefulness as they made eye contact with Time's eyes.
"That you could help me? That you were taken by this freaky shadow thing-" [Name] ranted on as their posture slowly relaxed. In return, Time's shoulders slumped slightly as he stares at them.
Eventually [Name] drifted off and stared hesitantly at Time. Searching for any more signs of hostility since he did look like he was going to fucking tackle them into the ground earlier. If they were to even move an inch.
A familiar chuckle echoed in their head. "You aren't wrong there, little one" Fierce Deity teased. "The young hero used to always dive head first into situations without a plan." The Deity merely found this entire thing amusing, and was he going to enjoy it as much as he can.
[Name] tenses up. Okay, they may not know what the fuck is going on, and it's really unfair that the Fierce Deity mask? Person? Has a really hot voice.
"I swear to god, if you say shit like that unannounced I'm going to throw you-"
"Excuse me?"
A noise of fear escaped from [Name's] lips at the acknowledgement. Their hands loosened for a moment before squeezing as if they were warning the entity in the mask. A hesitant smile appears on their mouth as they look up at the older man.
'Holy fuck- if I'm holding the Fierce Deity mask then that means I'm speaking to Link-'
[Name] does a double take at the blonde. He's quite tall, no longer the small hero that ran around helping the land of Termina and Hyrule. The young boy is nonexistent but they believe he hasn't been that youthful optimistic child he once was for a long time.
When did their precious boy get freaking tall??? Wasn't most versions of Link smaller than the average Hylian?
"I wasn't talking to you! The mask said something stupid so I-"
"He can speak to you?? What- you can hear him??"
"My brother in christ if you interrupt me again, I'm walking the other direction."
A smooth deep laugh echoed in their head at the short responses. Fierce Deity relished in this moment; the familiar bickering between the older hero and the young guide.
It brought him back to the moment during the Hero of Time's journey. During the final fight with Majora, the Fierce Deity was conscious during the entire battle. Giving his strength to the young hero and his guide. A moment where the both of you were panicking. Which then caused a stressed conversation between the two of you.
"Link- Link I swear to god if you take off this mask because you think it'll be funny. I will make sure Majora punches you so hard you blackout for the rest of this fight"
"Oh come on! It'll only be off just for a moment."
"NO-"
Oh yes. The God could only wait and enjoy on how everything will go. He will refuse to speak up and explain on what is going on. In his eyes, why not let the children piece everything together?
Besides it fine to let himself be a bit selfish in knowing who you are. It has been a long time since he's seen you. You can't blame him, can you?
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whimsicalpolitical · 27 days ago
Text
I arrived - Matty Healy x Reader
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you smoke weed for the first time and call matty cause you don’t know what’s happening
content warning: weed, sweet matty<3, comfort, also bsf!matty
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Fuck. What did you think smoking with some guys from your classes one day before an important exam.
Your stomach churns violently as the world spins out of control. Everything feels too loud, too bright, and the streetlights flicker like they're mocking you. You feel like you’re floating one second and then crashing the next. Your heart is racing and you can barely hear yourself think over the noise around you. You stumble a little, catching yourself on a wall, your fingers gripping the cold brick for balance.
With trembling hands, you pull out your phone, scroll down to Matty’s name, and hit call.
It rings once.
"What's up, darling?" His voice is warm, casual, like he’s been waiting to hear from you all day.
Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you can’t even form words. "Matty... m’not feeling very well—fuck." Your voice comes out shaky, cracking a little at the end. The panic is so thick you can taste it.
There’s a long pause on the other end, and then his tone shifts instantly from laid-back to sharp concern. "What happened? Where are you?"
You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palm against your forehead as if it’ll help stop the spinning.
"I—I did something stupid," you mumble, voice thick with embarrassment. "Fuck, Matty, I... some guys convinced me to smoke weed and I’ve never-." You groan softly, wishing you could just melt into the ground.
There’s a shocked silence on the other end, before he blurts out, "What? What guys? Angel, you’ve never even smoked a cigarette!”
"I know, I know!" you cry, feeling like an idiot. "It’s just—they made it sound so okay, y’know? Like, 'Oh, just try it, it’ll calm you down,' and... now I feel like I’m dying." Your voice cracks on the last word, and you can hear him moving around, grabbing his keys or something.
"Shit." He exhales, frustration mixed with worry. "Alright, alright. First off, you're not dying, love. It's just your body freaking out because it’s not used to it. But fuck those blokes. You should’ve called me before you even thought about it."
"I know, Matty. I just didn’t wanna bother you... I thought I could handle it."
"Bother me?" His laugh is soft but incredulous. "Darling, you're never a bother. Now, where are you? Can you get inside?"
You look down the alleyway toward your apartment building, the shadows stretching out like they're waiting to swallow you whole. "I... I don't think I can. Everything feels so far away. I feel like I might pass out if I move."
"Alright, alright. No more moving. Just stay where you are. I’m coming to get you, okay? Don’t move a muscle."
"Matty—" you start, but he interrupts.
"I’m serious, angel. Don’t try to be brave and start walking. Stay right there, talk to me. I’ll be there in ten minutes."
“I’m a mess, this is so embarrassing.”
"Darling, listen to me. You are not a mess. You're just... in a bit of a situation, yeah? And I’ve seen you in worse, trust me," he teases lightly, trying to make you smile. "Remember that time at Ross’s party when you—"
"Matty," you groan, half in embarrassment, half because you're genuinely about to puke.
"Okay, okay, no jokes. Just breathe for me. Close your eyes if you need to, lean back against the wall, and keep talking to me. What did the guys say to convince you to do this?"
You let out a long sigh, trying to focus on his voice. "They just... I don’t know. Said it would take the edge off, make me feel better about the exam tomorrow."
"Ah, fuck the exam. Who gives a shit about that right now?" He huffs in annoyance. "And they’ve just left you then, alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t even know them and they already piss me off, just, I’ll be there in a minute. Everything’s going to be alright.
You nod even though he can’t see it, your grip tightening on the phone like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. "Thanks, Matty."
"Course, love.”
You chuckle weakly. "Hurry up, yeah? I think the shadows are starting to look at me funny."
"M’coming. Just stay on the phone with me.”
And with his voice in your ear, the world feels just a little less terrifying.
You lean against the wall, knees feeling weak, barely holding yourself up as Matty’s voice keeps you grounded. The minutes crawl by, your heart still racing, and every noise feels like it’s trying to pull you out of your skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensation that everything is just too much.
“Just keep breathing, darling. I’m almost there, okay?” Matty says over the phone, his voice steady, like he’s trying to will you calm through the line. “You’re doing amazing. Just keep talking to me.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumble, your voice shaky. “Everything’s spinning, Matty. It’s so loud here... feels like my heart’s about to burst.”
“Hey, hey, shh... I’ve got you. Your heart’s fine, I promise. It’s just the weed, love. Makes things feel bigger than they are. It’s gonna pass soon.”
You hear his footsteps quicken through the phone, then, “Alright, I’m here. I see you.”
You blink, trying to focus, and through the blurry street lights, you finally see him—Matty, walking towards you in his usual black jacket, a water bottle in one hand, eyes searching for you.
The moment he reaches you, he tucks his phone into his pocket and crouches down in front of you, his eyes soft with concern. “Hey, angel. I’m here, yeah? I’ve got you now.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of him. He looks so calm, so steady, like a lifeline in the chaos you’re drowning in. “Matty, I—" you start, but the words won’t come.
He shakes his head, gently shushing you. “No need to talk, darling. Let me take care of you, alright?” He uncaps the water bottle and holds it out to you. “First, take a sip. Slowly, yeah?”
Your hands are still shaky as you reach for the bottle, but Matty’s there, steadying you as you bring it to your lips. The cool water is like a balm, and you close your eyes, focusing on the simple act of swallowing.
“Good, that’s it. Just small sips,” Matty murmurs, his hand lightly resting on your arm, grounding you.
You take a few more before handing the bottle back, your breathing starting to even out a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, feeling embarrassed all over again.
“Don’t be sorry, love. Nothing to be sorry for.” He gives you a small smile, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Now, do you think you’re alright to walk inside? Or do you need me to carry you?”
You blink at him, trying to gauge how steady your legs feel. “I... I think I can walk. Just... slowly.”
He nods, standing up and offering his hand. “That’s fine. We’ll go at your pace, yeah? Here.” He wraps an arm around your waist, gently pulling you up, and you grip his shoulder for balance, leaning into him as he holds you up. His touch is warm, reassuring, and you immediately feel safer with him close.
"Got your key?" Matty asks, and you nod, fumbling in your bag for a second before pulling it out and handing it to him. He unlocks the door with ease, pushing it open before looking back at you. "Ready?"
You nod, leaning more heavily into him as the two of you shuffle inside. It feels like the distance from the door to the couch is miles, but Matty is patient, guiding you gently the whole way. He helps you sit down carefully, as if you might break.
“There we go,” he says softly, crouching in front of you again. “Let me get these shoes off, yeah?”
You don’t protest, too tired to care as he unties your laces and slips your shoes off, setting them aside like it’s second nature. His movements are so gentle, so considerate, and you realize just how lucky you are to have him.
Just as you’re starting to feel like you might calm down, a piercing sound cuts through the quiet—sirens blaring outside, loud enough to make your head pound.
You wince, immediately clapping your hands over your ears. "Matty—" you whisper, your voice tight, eyes squeezing shut as the noise seems to fill your entire head.
Matty’s hand is on your shoulder in an instant, his touch soothing. "It’s alright, love, I promise. That’s just the weed playing tricks on your senses. It can make everything seem... too much. Your hearing, your sight, it all gets heightened."
You keep your hands over your ears, trying to block out the sound. "It’s so loud. Why’s it so loud?"
“It’s gonna settle down soon. Just focus on me, alright? You’re safe here."
You nod, focusing on his touch, on the soft sound of his voice. “You promise it’ll go away?”
“I promise, you just have to ride it out a bit longer, but I’m not leaving your side, okay? I’ll stay right here until you’re feeling yourself again.”
The sirens fade into the distance, and your ears stop ringing, but the tension doesn’t completely leave your body. Matty senses it and stands up, moving over to the sink to fill the water bottle again. He returns and crouches in front of you once more, offering it to you with a soft smile.
"Another sip, yeah? Gotta stay hydrated."
You take it, drinking slowly, grateful for the small gesture. He watches you carefully, his eyes never leaving your face.
"Better?" he asks quietly, and you nod a little, still shaky but feeling slightly more like yourself.
"You didn’t have to do all this," you whisper. "Coming out here, taking care of me..."
"Of course I did, darling. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. No way I’m leaving you out there to deal with that alone."
“Besides, those fucking wankers just left you there, I wouldn’t be better than them if I did the same.”
You smile faintly, the gratitude washing over you. "I don’t know what I’d do without you, Matty."
"Good thing you’ll never have to find out," he says, his eyes soft as he brushes his thumb over your hand. "Now, how about we just sit here for a bit, yeah? Let you come back to earth, and then we’ll figure out what to do next."
You sit back on the couch, trying to focus on your breathing as the spinning finally starts to ease. Matty’s still next to you, his hand resting on your arm, grounding you like always. He’s watching you, his brows furrowed in concern but trying to stay calm, as if you might break at any second.
Just when things are starting to settle, there’s a knock on the door, loud enough to make you jump slightly. You look at him, confused. "Who’s that?"
Matty gives you a sheepish grin, standing up slowly. "I, ehm... might have ordered us some food."
Your eyes widen, and for a second, you think you might cry. "Food?"
"Yeah," he says with a little shrug, running a hand through his hair. "Thought it might help, y’know? Something greasy, soak up all the anxiety. Plus, I know you get hungry when you're stressed."
“Matty,” you smile, “you’re a lifesaver.”
Matty laughs as he strides over to the door.
He knew what you needed before you even knew yourself, and that’s what makes your chest warm as you watch him open the door and grab the food.
He brings the bag over, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you with a proud grin. "There you go.”
You lean in impulsively, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best, Matty.”
His grin widens, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, I know. But don’t let it go to my head.”
He pulls out the burger, unwrapping it and handing it to you like it’s some kind of prize. The smell hits you immediately, and your stomach growls in response. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were until now.
You take a bite, and a soft groan escapes your lips at the taste. “Oh my god,” you mumble through a mouthful of food, “this is so good.”
“M’glad,” he chuckles.
You glance at him, the warmth in his eyes as he eats his fries making you melt even more. You take another big bite, feeling the tension in your body slowly unwind with every chew. “Seriously, Matty... you’re a genius.”
He winks. “I know my shit, love. Stick with me, and you’ll survive just about anything.”
“I will.”
He leans back on the couch, watching you with amusement as you devour your food. “I’m just glad you’re eating. Means you're coming back to yourself.”
You nod, realizing that with every bite, you’re feeling more and more grounded. “I think I am. Still a little spacey, though.”
“That’s alright,” Matty says, popping another fry into his mouth. “It’ll take a bit. You’re doing way better than you were ten minutes ago, though.”
“Yeah, because you’re here,” you admit, taking another bite of your burger. “If you hadn’t shown up, I think I might’ve called an ambulance or something.”
“Love, if you’d called an ambulance for a little weed freakout, you’d never hear the end of it from me.”
You laugh, the sound coming out easier than before, lighter. “I guess that would’ve been a bit dramatic.”
“A bit?” He grins at you. “But that’s what I’m here for. To save you from yourself.”
You swallow the last bite of your burger, sighing contentedly. “Well, you did a damn good job tonight.”
“I’m aware,” he says, smirking. “Next time please do it with me in the first place instead of some random dudes, alright?”
“Sorry,” he’s right, though. He would’ve made you feel way more comfortable, “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time, I was just so stressed and they’re friends with my study partner and-“ you groan, “I thought it was an easy solution.”
“That’s alright,” he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, “you learn best by doing. Doesn’t mean I won’t knock them out if I see them.”
“Matty!” You push him slightly, “I’ll never show them to you, it’s not their fault. They probably thought I can handle it.”
You watch him as he takes a napkin and brush it against his mouth.
Matty just shakes his head, not buying your attempt to defend the guys. “Look, I don’t care what they thought,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I’m on your team, alright? They should’ve made sure you were okay, and they didn’t. That’s all I care about.”
You let out a small groan, leaning back into the couch, your body sinking deeper into the cushions. “Matty...”
He cuts you off with a smile. “Nope. Not hearing it. End of story.”
You sigh, but there’s no point in arguing with him. He’s being overprotective, but it’s also why you love him. “Fine,” you mutter, watching as he stands up, collecting all the wrappers and containers from the table.
He moves around your apartment like he’s been here a hundred times before—which, to be fair, he has—tidying everything up without saying much. Once he’s cleared the coffee table, he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and shakes it out.
“Alright, up a bit,” he says, motioning for you to scoot over. You do, albeit slowly, and he drapes the blanket over you, making sure it’s tucked around your shoulders. The warmth feels immediate, and you find yourself sinking even further into the couch, already feeling more at ease.
“Better?” he asks, kneeling beside the couch again, his hand brushing lightly over your hair.
You nod, your eyes feeling heavy. “Yeah. Way better. Thanks, Matty.”
He smiles softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “You should sleep, alright? Rest is gonna help you feel normal again.”
“Will you stay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, a bit of vulnerability sneaking through.
Matty’s smile softens, and without hesitation, he nods. “Of course, love. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
You let out a small breath, feeling relief wash over you. “Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already starting to drift closed. “You’re the best, Matty. You know that, right?”
He chuckles softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that a couple of times tonight.”
You smile, but it’s sleepy, your body already giving in to the exhaustion that’s been tugging at you for the last hour. “Good... just making sure you know...”
Matty stays by your side until your breathing evens out, the soft hum of the city outside the window fading into the background. You feel safe, warm, and completely at ease with him there.
Just before you fully drift off, you hear him whisper, “Sleep well, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
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oddballwriter · 1 year ago
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hello! Could i please request a one shot where Steven and Marc know about Jake's existence and they have been trying to get used to him and get to know him, and during a mission where they need help they found out Jake has been having like a long term relationship with the reader (who is Sekhmet's avatar)
And Steven its totally freaking out but also crushing on her but Marc its like "wtf how long has this been going on?"
Unexpected Addition
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
Part Two
Summary: Life with a new addition is a bit tricky, but Steven and Marc are getting the hang of having Jake around. But what they don't expect is that Jake has a bit of a life of his own, including a love. Which sort of adds another addition. 
Warnings: The boys are fighting. Steven being a love sick puppy. Marc is kind of a dick in this not gonna lie. Mentions of some factors of D.I.D. . It's mentioned that Jake told reader about Marc's past, to a degree. There's some arguing about you and Jake being a thing for so long and kind of referenced that you and Jake technically overlap with Marc and Layla by a hair.
This fic is actually more of Steven just having a big stinkin' crush on you and Jake and Marc yelling at each other.  
Author’s Snip: I feel like this is good but not completely on the mark. Anon, if you want to throw me another scenario that's Jake centric with this idea/world then feel free. Just give me a sign.
Notes: I semi-proof read this so if there's weird grammar and shit just ignore it.  
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
Jake was a surprise. Well, in the logic of common D.I.D. systems not really, but in the sense that neither Steven nor Marc knew he was there. It felt like a bit of a privacy breach to think that Jake's just watched everything go down from the shadows only to leave as soon as he came, and it was a bit unnerving to know that Jake was more off the hinges. But it's not like they could really do anything about him. Jake's a part of the system, whether they like it or not.
Jake honestly wasn't that much of a change up though. He usually did his own things and kept in his lane for the most part. Even if his tactics were more... forceful than Marc and Steven's were. Otherwise Jake would be something of an allusive one. He didn't seem to do much but they had a hunch that there was more than just Jake Lockley, the third alter, cabbie by daylight, and system parachute and low key Khonshu's hitman. And there was.
Because there was you.
Marc and Steven found out about you because they were on a mission that Khonshu demanded that they do. And it turns out Sekhmet had the same idea for you.
It wasn't like the two were in on it and it was a ruse to get you to meet the others. It was genuinely just an "Oops, did know you were gonna get it." sort of thing.
"Jake? Wasn't expecting a surprise team up with you. Usually boyfriends surprise their girlfriends flowers." you laugh under your breath as you try to not catch any unwanted attention. You didn't need anymore than the " Excuse me?" from Marc to know that it wasn't Jake you've bumped into. "I'll explain once we get this done. Just follow my lead for now." you say as you move on with what you were planning on doing.
"Okay... so..." you roll out trying to think of what to say after having just handled the mission, and now sitting at an empty park bench in your regular clothes, "My name is Y/N. What's yours?" you settle on as you lift your hand for a handshake, trying your best to have a non-nervous smile. "How do you know about Jake?" Marc asked, ignoring your polite gesture of formality.
"Marc. That is so rude. She's trying to be nice." Steven scolded from the puddle at his feet.
"Me and Jake are... together." you mumble out. "How?" Marc demanded. He looked so angry and menacing while he interrogated you. You've seen a lot of mean looking guys but when it's the face of someone you recognize as your boyfriend, you felt a bit trapped by the tense energy. You barely squeak out "I met him a while back.".
"Marc, if you just let me explain without making a scene it'll all make sense." you quickly speak out before he almost interrupts you, "How do you know my name. You were acting like you didn't know it a seco-".
Marc violently twitches before the tense scowl on his face disappears and is replaced with a softer worried expression after a second less violent twitch.
He looks at you, he sees that you looks a bit frightened, and then he speaks, with a British accent "I'm sorry about that... that-that wasn't me. I didn't switch us." he says, "Must have been-" he tries to say before you speak. "Steven, right?" you ask in a soft voice. He's caught a bit off guard that you said his name. He points to himself with a "Me?" and nods "Yeah.".
You stare at each other for a bit before you speak up. "Jake hasn't told you about me, I know. He just barely started being known to you guys and he didn't want to rush anything. I understood that and did my best to stay clear so that I wouldn't shock you two but I knew that there would be a fumble at some point." you explain.
Steven listens intently till you're done. It was either that or listening to Marc and Jake yell at each other in the reflection of the puddles.
"I only know about you guys because he wanted me to be ready when the time came for him to think that it was a good time for us to actually meet. I didn't mean to throw any of you through a loop like that. It's just been a while since I've seen him and I got excited." you apologize as you explain more.
"It's okay , love. It's just that we hardly know anything about Jake and finding out something so personal was a bit jarring." Steven says. You feel a little flutter at being called "love" for a second before Steven speaks again. He subconsciously touched your hand. "And I'm sincerely sorry about Marc's behavior. You were being courteous and he was acting like you were a danger when you were making it clear that your and Jake had some type of acquaintance." he apologized.
"It's okay." you comment. "Jake told me that Marc would be a bit... apprehensive about me. That's just how he is." you add.
"And me?" Steven questions with a bit of curiosity to what Jake might have said about him. "He said that if I meet you then you might be a bit flighty. Said that you were easy to spook." you say in a bit of a laugh.
Steven got to see more of you after that. You would spend some time to get to know each other more, which Jake approved of. He thought it was nice to see the two parts of his life that he kept separate finally meet. It was kind of like having cats meet for the first time where you watch them interact and then get comfortable with each other.
Steven, admittedly, and a bit too obviously, took a huge liking towards you. And you the same. You were fascinated with the other. He liked hearing about what you did as the avatar of Sekhmet and what that entailed for you both in mission and personal life. Along with what you just did in your regular civilian life. As for you, you were amazed to see a person who acted, talked, and even moved so differently than the person you usually associated his face and body with.
Unfortunately, you and Marc weren't taking to each other too nicely. Well, you were still perfectly friendly towards him any time you saw him. It was Marc who wasn't very enchanted by you.
Matter of fact, he and Jake were still at it with each other.
"How long has this been a thing?" Marc asked with the same demanding voice he did to you. "Three years." Jake answered in a nonchalant tone. "Three years?!" Marc repeated, unpleasantly surprised by the answer. Jake scoffed "Didn't she say we've known each other for a while?" Jake mentioned.
"So you've just been seeing this random woman for three years behind our back-? Behind Layla's back?" Marc fumbled out with anger. "You," Jake interrupted, "- Sent divorce papers to Layla. Not me." Jake clarified. "Not to mention. She was your wife. You made it very clear to Steven that she was off limits and I already knew that she was off limits. So sorry I went and found my own woman instead of hitting up yours." Jake quipped.
"Yeah and now it seems like Steven likes yours too." Marc said making his own quip.
"Good!" Jake bursted, "At least he's courteous enough to treat her with some respect and get to know her.". Marc would have spoken again but just beat him to it. "You're acting like I was going to hide you from each other forever. I would have had you two meet at some point once you were used to me. You three just met earlier then I would have liked." Jake explained.
"Did she know about Layla?" Marc asked. "Of course I told her about Layla! I was open and honest about my situation and what that would spell out for our relationship." Jake answered with an emphasis on the words open and honest. "How much did you tell her about us?" Marc demanded again before Jake exploded.
"Everything!" Jake barked. "I told her fucking everything I could! I told her about you. About Steven. Layla. Our condition. Everything about us, she knows. I wanted her to be ready for when you cross paths. I told her how to behave and what to watch out for so that she wouldn't startle either of you. And you know what? She did! She was going to explain everything to you if you would just let her fucking speak instead of grill her like that." Jake lectured.
Listening to the two fight was something that Steven would usually ignore. It seemed like arguing while getting to know each other was a thing in the system. Usually Steven would intervene if it was getting too bad or he was brought into it. But neither of those caught his attention because he was busy paying attention to you. Again.
"You look so different." you say almost out of the blue. "Excuse me." Steven spoke. "You look so different from Jake even though it's the same body." you remark.
"You have such different eyes. Yours are all doe eyed and round. Jake has a resting angry face. It's so weird." you smile. "And you smile different too. Jake only smiles a little and with the corner of his mouth, so it looks like a smirk. You smile with your cheeks." you add.
Steven flustered and felt shy under your gaze. The way you were talking didn't speak ill of neither him or Jake. You were speaking in admiration at what made them so different.
"You also don't have the little paperboy hat or gel." you point out as you look at the curls on his head. "Jake usually wears a little bit of gel to slick back some of his hair. I sometimes forget just how curly it is." you say as you gently reach to play with a few little curls. Steven honestly felt like he should be coughing up wings by now with the amount of butterflies he had going in his stomach and chest as you touched him. Even if it was just to admire him for a moment.
He did feel a bit guilty for enjoying your words and affirmation a little too much. He wasn't entirely sure if Jake would act the same as Marc did when he accidentally made contact with Layla. But then again, he hasn't had Jake barging in and being defensive about you. It felt weird to think about it this way but at least Jake was, seemingly, sharing. That or he's too focused on Marc when he's not the one fronting.
Steven did wish that Marc was nicer to you and more open to meeting you. You were very sweet and treated them nicely.
Maybe Marc would get to see you look at him and complement all the details about him like his eyes and his smile. You could get to know him and what he likes and how that contrasts with you. maybe you two could get used to fighting together in the cases that you bump into each other again.
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thescarletnargacuga · 3 months ago
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Welcome to Fairylight Forest! One must keep their wits about them on this dark and mysterious track, one never knows what they'll find around each turn! It'll have you jumping at your own shadow! That is your shadow...right?
WARNING: digital body horror, swearing
~~~
"Boss! Hey, boss!! Get up!" Bubble shouted over the racers taking off from the starting line. "Boss, the race has started!"
"Ugh..." Caine sat up. Dust drifted through the air, making him cough. "Did I really just..?"
"Faint? Yep. But it's racing time! You need to get to your booth!" Bubble wobbled in the air excitedly.
Caine saw the taillights of the karts disappear down the dark, wooded track. "She's going to be the death of me." He smirked and teleported to his announcer booth. Inside, displays from various view points on the track came up in front of him. He cleared his voice and spoke into his cane. "And they're off! Ragatha makes an aggressive push to first right off the start line! Followed closely by Gummigoo, Jax and Pomni! Watch yourselves out there, racers! With low light and tight turns, you're liable to get lost! Don't let the beast find you!" Caine laughs, genuinely excited to see the reactions of the racers.
~
Trees whipped by as Pomni navigated the narrow track with the other leaders. The track itself had a mystical glow to it. Trees and mushrooms and rocks had unnatural bioluminescent auras. It was like driving into wonderland. Pomni couldn't help but smile to herself at how beautiful the aesthetic for the track was, and they were just getting started.
The track widened for a banked, boosted turn and Pomni went high to take in the view. The trees cleared around a large lake. Colorful orbs of light danced over the surface. The track led straight to the water, seeming to dead end.
The unknown elements of the track made the other racers hesitate and slow down, confused on where the track went. Pomni zipped ahead, leading the way to the lake.
~
"Not everything is as it seems! The fairy folk welcome the brave! Full speed ahead, racers!" Caine giddly fidgeted in the air. He was so excited, he didn't even notice Bubble biting the control panel.
~
Pomni hit the water and drove atop it as through it were solid. She awed as the water curled around her, forming a tunnel. Colorful fish swam int he sparkling water, giving the tunnel an extra sense of wonder.
"This is beautiful!" Shouted Ragatha, next to Pomni.
Jax was less keen on the visuals. He accelerated to ram Pomni from behind. "Unfair! You know what's on this track!"
Pomni glared back at Jax. "That doesn't mean I know the order! Stop your bellyaching and race!" She put the pedal to the floor as the tunnel came to an end, triggering a surprise box. Pomni grinned when popper appeared in her hand. Now the fun could begin. "Heads up!" She tossed the popper, making the racers around her scatter.
~
"Pomni's perfectly played popper places her precisely in pirst!" Caine cheered, overlooking his illiterate slip. "Ragatha is wasting no time with her orange shell! Jax gets a bubble and the shell does nothing! What luck! Gummigoo seems to be holding his item for now, that could work in his favor as we move on to the first jump! Gangle, Zooble and Kinger have a lot of catching up to do! Come on, you three! Are you in this race or not!?"
Bubble happily nommed on the doorframe.
~
The track jumped over a village of mushroom houses. Racers glided down, giving them a few seconds to enjoy the view. Pomni held first as she swiped a cupcake and boosted ahead, the track winding into an even darker part of the forest.
Gummigoo dodged a cane from Jax and laughed. "You wasted that, you idiot!"
Jax grunted and tried swerving into Gummigoo, but the motorbike was too nimble to pin down. "Sit still, you long nosed freak!"
"You're one to talk, bunny boy!" Gummigoo braked to avoid another collision and wheelied away in a lane boost, waving his hat.
Ragatha was just ahead and smiled as Gummigoo came up next to her. "You two can't leave each other alone, can you?"
"What can I say? Mate knows how to show a gator a good time."
"Better you than me!" Ragatha was relieved to no longer be the one Jax constantly targeted during races.
~
Caine gripped his cane tight. It was time. Pomni would be triggering the beast's pursue any second. A flit of silver light on one of his screens got his attention. "Huh..?" Caine searched the adjacent screens. Another flit. Something was moving fast through the trees, but it was way too small to be the beast. Caine zoomed in on the screen viewing the upcoming turn for Pomni. A full flash of silver outlining a sleek racing motorcycle and rider with a familiar silhouette made him roll his eyes with a groan. "Oh no..."
Bubble spat out the piece of drywall in their mouth. "What is it, boss?"
"He's back." Caine said with a sneer.
~
Pomni focused on preparing for the turn, ready to drift though, when something jumped the barrier between her and trees. It landed in front of her, trailing silver fire. She swerved to avoid collision and botched her drift, forced to slow down. "What the [%$!#]!?"
She didn't recognize the unexpected racer, looking around to double check if the others were still behind her. She didn't remember Caine adding any obstacles like this. She maneuvered around the racer, catching up on a straightaway, to get a good look at it.
Mounted on an obsidian motorcycle was a humanoid figure in dark riding leathers. Steel capped boots and knees guards reflected the limited light. Pearl white teeth stood out on inky black gums. Piercing silver irises in black eyes looked back at Pomni.
"...Caine?" Pomni only knew of one person that looked like this, but...this couldn't be him.
The figure smirked and revved as it popped a wheelie. Silver fire blasting from the tail pipe, engulfing the rear tire and leaving a trail. The racer zoomed ahead, challenging Pomni to keep up.
Pomni drove right through the fire, dispersing it, chasing the racer to the multi-tiered jump.
~
Caine came over the speakers, annoyance lancing his voice. "Well folks, it looks like our leader, Pomni, has triggered The Echo. She's too good at this, and The Echo saw fit to give her a challenge. Yay."
He got off the general broadcast and communicated with Pomni's kart specifically. "Pomni? Can you hear me?"
~
"Caine!" Pomni threw a shell in an attempt to stall The Echo, but missed. "What is this?? Why are you out here!?"
"That's not me, Pomni. That is the Shadowed Echo of The Host. He's a challenge mechanic I made in a misguided attempt to balance races. Just ignore him and he'll go away." Caine said with hope that she would comply.
"He's pretty hard to ignore!" Pomni shouted as she accelerated for the jump. The Echo kept looking back to see if she was still on his tail.
"Yeah, well.... He does take a few things after me."
"You mean like your entire face!?"
"That, among others." Caine cleared his voice. "Look, all I'm saying is that he's not worth your time. Keep running your race, you're doing a great job!"
~
Caine disconnected from Pomni's radio and watched the screens that showed The Echo carefully. "He just had to show up, now of all times. I'll have more than a bone to pick with him if he interferes with this race." He grumbled.
Bubble nibbled the wall, enjoying the drama.
~
"An echo, huh?" Pomni thought out loud. "If I can keep up with the original, this'll be fun." She couldn't help herself. She hit the booster for the third level of the jump, watching The Echo take the first.
The jump launched them above the tree line. Pomni saw The Echo below her and engaged her glider to slow her forward momentum. She maneuvered her kart over the Echo and released her glider, dropping her over where The Echo would land. It was a Jax move, but if this was just a game mechanic, she didn't feel bad about it.
The Echo landed and looked up in time to see Pomni's kart coming down on top of him. In a flash of silver light, he vanished and reappeared to the side, completely avoiding the hit.
Pomni did a double take, not understanding how she missed. The Echo wagged a finger at Pomni with a smirk before cutting her off and triggering the surprise box she would have grabbed.
"You-!? Oh, it's on now!" Pomni geared up and put the petal to the floor.
~
Caine sighed heavily. "She's not going to let it go." He busied himself with announcements for the other racers. If Pomni wanted to chase tailpipe, he couldn't stop her.
"Gummigoo leads in second! Kinger has caught up with Ragatha and Jax! Zooble and Gangle are still taking it easy this race, enjoying the view!"
Caine's watch went off. He checked it to see a large active asset marker closing in on Pomni and The Echo. The beast was coming. "Right on time." He clicks it shut.
~
Pomni and The Echo barreled down a long straightaway. The Echo kept slowing down to be even with Pomni, only to speed up if she tried to pass or collide with him. Without a boost, Pomni couldn't go any faster.
The Echo sat upright on his motorcycle, hands off the handles, looking Pomni up and down. "So you're the new blood."
Pomni tried to take advantage of his unprepared state and swerved at him. The bike and rider vanished, appearing on her other side.
"Feisty." The Echo chuckled, an excited gleem in his eyes.
Pomni would have tried again, but a tree suddenly appeared in the middle of the track. She and The Echo swerved around. They passed so quickly, they didn't see the blue pixelated
~
"Woah, what?" Caine saw the moved tree and snapped his fingers to return it to it's spot. The nagging reminder of glitches ate at the back of his mind. "It happens... everything is still fine..." He combed through the rest of the track feed, checking for any similar glitches.
~
A beastial roar came crashing through the trees along side the track. Through a designated opening, a huge bioluminescent creature entered the track and pursued the racers running through the straightaway to the finish line.
Pomni glanced back several times to try to see it in action. This was the part she had been looking forward to the most. Caine out did himself with the chimera like monster. The front half was like a tiger, with the horns of a rhino protruding from it's skull. The back half was like a bull, with powerful cloven hooves and a long whip-like tail.
In a burst of speed, the beast charged Pomni but she avoided. "You're not knocking me out of this race!" She exclaimed with a smile.
The Echo was entirely ignored by the beast, it even passed up an easy swipe at him to go after Pomni. He narrowed his eyes. Assets like this should attack all racers.
~
"Watch out, racers! The beast has made itself known and is taking no prisoners!" Caine was happy to see a smile on Pomni's face. At least she was having fun.
His smile faltered when he noticed how jerky the beast's movements were, like it was fighting it's own code to stay on target. He squinted as he examined footage the beast closely. "I don't remember making the eyes blue..."
"You forget a lot of things, boss." Bubble teased.
~
The beast pounced at Pomni. She slammed her brake, the beast flew over her and she cut hard right to go around it. She escaped the tree line and crossed the finish line to mark the end of lap one.
The Echo crossed right behind her, looking back to see the beast halt it's pursuit at the end of the trees. He accelerated around Pomni as they reentered the forest at the beginning, leaning around a curve so tight, his knee guard sparked against the track. He stole yet another surprise box out from in front of Pomni, making her scream in frustration. Much to his delight.
"You [%$!#]!!" Pomni focused all he attention on The Echo, putting all of the other racers out of her mind.
~
Gummigoo was the first to see the beast on the straightaway. It took up the entire track, staring him down. "Crikey!!" He rode the wall to get around it, ducking under a swipe of it's claws. The claws left huge gashes in the track, blue pixels glitching in and out of place.
Ragatha and Kinger broke away from one another as the beast charged them. It rushed between them and used it's tail to attack Kinger. He was struck and his kart flipped end over end into the wall.
Ragatha escaped, but only just.
Gangle screamed when she saw the beast, it was nightmare fuel. Her shaking hands couldn't counter steer fast enough and she was swiped completely off the track, crashing into the trees.
Zooble didn't want to get too far ahead of Gangle and did donuts around the beast to keep it after her while Gangle was reoriented on the track.
~
"It's absolute carnage on the track! Racers thrown left and right! And we're seeing some of the best driving from Zooble in a long time, folks! The beast can't keep up with them!" Caine's excited tone masked his concern. The beast was being far more aggressive than intended. He tried to tell himself it wasn't a glitch. Just a miscalculation. The racers were fine, just a bit more delayed than anticipated. Everything is fine. He anxiously tapped his fingers against the control panel.
~
Back in the water tunnel, The Echo spiraled around the wall in front of Pomni in a taunting manner. He even turned around to sit backwards on his bike and lounged back, smirking at her.
"I'm going to wipe that smarmy look right off your face." Pomni said through gritted teeth. The competitiveness brought on by the race rush had her seeing red. She hit the boost at the end of the tunnel, gunning right for The Echo. He vanished before impact. Pomni had to course correct quickly to avoid the wall.
A loud laugh came from her other side. "You don't learn, do you?"
Pomni held up a purple shell. "Actually, I'm quite the study." When she aimed for him, she forced him to vanish before he could steal the surprise box at the end of the tunnel.
The Echo barely had time to react, and teleported as the shell exploded. He was knocked off balance and lost ground as he steadied his bike. He wiped the explosive residue from his teeth and a broad grin grew across his face. "Hell yeah." His code buzzed with the rev of his engine as he gunned it to catch up with Pomni.
~
"Pomni is half a lap ahead of the pack! Gummigoo and Jax are fighting tooth and claw for second! But watch out for Ragatha! Is she gonna- SHE DOES! With a well played cane, she takes them both out and steals second! HAHA!! Well done, Ragatha! Keep it up! There are still two laps to go!"
Caine kept glancing at the beast's straightaway. It was still on the track, pacing from one end to the other. It pressed it's paws against the invisible wall that kept it in bounds. "What is going on with that thing?"
"I dunno, boss. You were pretty distracted yesterday. Never seen you have someone around while you were working on a track." Bubble's toothy grin didn't waiver when Caine deadpanned at them.
"I'm always careful when it comes to pursuit assets. Bad coding could lead to someone actually getting hurt. It's just...not working the way I expected."
"If you're worried, maybe you should call the race off?"
"I can't do that to her. She was really looking forward to this..." Caine zoomed in on a screen viewing Pomni fly by with The Echo quickly closing in. "Maybe he has something to do with it. Things didn't start getting weird until he showed up."
"Oooooh yeah, maybe he's moving the assets around to keep Pomni to himself." Bubble laughed sarcastically.
Caine silently clenched his fists.
~
Pomni and The Echo landed simultaneously from the village jump. While she couldn't stop him from passing her if he really wanted to, she was willing to try a distraction tactic that's worked before. She catches the eye of The Echo and blows a flirty kiss his way.
The Echo arches an eyebrow with a smirk. He puts two gloves fingers against his bottom jaw and sticks his inky black tongue out between them.
Pomni is the one left flustered, looking away with a heavy blush on her face. The Echo chuckles and steals another item.
~
Caine's bottom jaw hit the control panel. "That inappropriate piece of malware! How DARE he do that to Pomni! That's it. I'm ending the race early." He snapped his fingers and the finish line displayed FINAL LAP instead of LAP 2.
"Are you sure, boss?"
"As much as I hate the idea of disappointing her, I can't have HIM here." Caine was fuming. His tapping on the panel went from anxious to angry.
~
Pomni and The Echo stayed neck and neck to the straightaway. They accelerated as the beast charged them head on.
Pomni finally got a look at it that wasn't over her shoulder. The beast's electric blue eyes bore into her in an unsettling, familiar way. The beast's form glitched as it lunged, it's face splitting and morphing. The jaw opened so wide, it seem unhinged. The front legs doubled, giving it an even wider range to swipe.
"What!?" Pomni avoided the initial attack, but the second set of front claws snagged her kart. Her rear tire and fender glitched violently as as she crashed it not he wall. The glitching clipped her kart into he barrier and she was stuck in place.
The Echo had been able to get past the beast due to being ignored again but he slid sideways to a stop when he realized Pomni had been caught. Seeing that she was unable to recover and the beast was going in for another attack, he burned out his rear tire getting back to her.
As the beast brought it's claws down, Pomni struggled to get out of her clipping kart. Before the beast could strike, a black motorcycle appeared mid air and struck it in the face. Pomni fought her way out of her kart as The Echo landed and did a sharp u-turn. The Echo reached out and grabbed Pomni's arm as he kept going.
Pomni kicked off from the ground and mounted the black bike behind The Echo.
The Echo leaned forward and accelerated to top speed to get away from the glitching beast.
The beast's roar was digitally disrupted. It's body contorted further as it attempted to pursue the fleeing racers. It's charge speed was supposed to be limited, but the horrible amalgamation moved unnaturally fast.
Pomni held tight to The Echo and watched the beast gain ground quickly. They were going so fast that any attempted to swerve to avoid an attack was out of the question. They were almost to the tree line.
The beast made a lunge for the bike. One horrifically long leg with too many claws came down and hit the ground next to it.
Pomni clutched tighter out of fear and stares into the beast's eyes. Then it hit her. She had seen them before. The same cold blue eyes that infected Gummigoo. "Abel..?"
The Echo snapped his head black to look at her. "What did you say!?"
Pomni thought quickly. "Are you able to go any faster!?"
"We're almost there!" Ina last ditch attempt to throw off the beast, The Echo activated his fire. Silver flames trailed behind them, lighting up the beast.
Disfigured and now on fire, the beast was truly terrible to behold. Pomni couldn't look anymore and hid her eyes against The Echo's back.
They crossed the tree line with the beast still going full speed behind them. It crashed into the barrier. The barrier distorted and glitched, breaking apart and allowing the beast to pass. It made another attempt to attack as the racers got to the finish line.
Gold light shined between the finish line and the beast. Caine's cane topper glowed brightly as he held it out in front of him. Blue static jumped from the beast's eyes just before it collided with Caine hovering steadfast. The beast's body broke apart into lines of nonsensical binary, showering the track with distorted numbers before they disintegrated. The beast became dust, then it became nothing.
The Echo stopped his bike as soon as he could last the finish line. He looked back at Pomni, who was holding on to him like they were still running for their lives. "Hey, this is were you get off."
Pomni was breathing heavily, looking for the beast. She saw Caine slowly descending as numbers finished around him. "Oh..." She hopped off the bike. "Thank you, I owe you for this."
"I'll keep that in mind." The Echo crossed his arms and watched Caine.
Caine fixed his face before facing Pomni, but he was shaking with rage. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?? I'm so sorry, Pomni! I thought the barrier would stop it! You're kart-"
"Hey..." Pomni took his hand. "I'm okay. We're okay."
The other racers crossed the finish line seconds later and Caine immediately snapped the track away. The world became bright again as it shifted to it's default settings. Caine glared at The Echo, sending an unheard binary message to the shadowed form of himself.
You. Out of bounds. Now.
The Echo rolled his eyes and disappeared in a flash of wispy silver light.
Caine cleared his voice and out on his best showman front. "Sorry for the shortened race today, but the new track was just a bit too ambitious. Congratulations, Pomni!" He snapped and a bioluminescent galaxy rose appeared in his hand. "I had a feeling you'd do well."
Pomni accepted the reward and opened her mouth to ask questions about what happened but Caine backed away to address everyone.
"Enjoy your extended break! Please, excuse me." Caine vanished.
"What happened out there?" Ragatha asked as everyone looked to Pomni.
"Yeah, and who was that other guy?" Asked Gummigoo.
"Was that your kart stuck in the wall back there?" Asked Kinger.
"Where'd the beast go? It was the only interesting thing on the track." Said Jax.
"I'm glad it wasn't there anymore. It was awful." Gangle held tight to Zooble.
Pomni gulped, not looking forward to answering.
~
"Seth! Seth!!" Caine shouted. "Show yourself!"
"What do you want?" Seth, The Echo, leaned casually against his motorcycle. He lit a cigarette with a small silver flame from his fingers.
Caine didn't bother flying. He teleported right in front of Seth and grabbed the collar of his leather jacket. "What are you doing here? You disappear for YEARS only to show up out of nowhere, uninvited, and disrupt what was supposed to be a special race! Explain yourself!"
Seth exhaled a cloud of silvery smoke in Caine's face. "First of all, I don't need your permission to show up to any race. Second, there's finally a racer worth my time since Kinger went soft. Third, I didn't disrupt anything."
Caine's glare didn't change through the disrespectful smokescreen. "It's no coincidence that you're here and everything goes wrong. You wanted a one on one with my best racer. Only your plan backfired! Pomni could've been hurt!"
Seth returned Caine's glare with a bored expression. "You could touch the top of the sky box with that jump to conclusions."
"You-!! You! Ugh!" Caine let go of Seth and threw his arms in frustration. He took out his pipe and bubbled it, trying to salvage what was left of his composure.
Seth took another drag. "This Pomni racer is a special case, huh? You never got this uppity over Kinger."
"I'm not uppity over Pomni." Caine looked away. "I'm UPPITY over the beast! What happened out there!? An asset has never glitched like that before!"
"You would know better than me. I don't make shit."
Caine cringed at the uncensored curse word. "Language."
"Fuck you're censor, you prudish prick. By the way, Pomni is DEFINITELY what you're bothered over." Seth chuckled. "Worried she'll want me to take her for a joyride?"
Caine bristled. His grip on his cane was so tight, the wood shaft creaked. "I'm not worried, because you are going to stay away from her. You're not needed at races anymore. You weren't missed. Go back to what ever shadowy corner you crawled out of and stay there."
Seth dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it with his boot. He closed the gap between him and Caine, getting in his face. "I will do whatever I damn well please. Including your girlfriend."
Caine raised his hand, poised to snap. His eyes locked threateningly on Seth's. "Don't. Push. Me. I've already deleted one useless asset today."
Seth took a half step back. "Taking a page from HIS book, are you?"
Caine glanced at his readied hand, then closed his fist. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm YOU, dumbass."
"Wrong. You are a deviated variant of a past version of myself. One that I wholeheartedly regret creating."
"Doesn't change the fact that I have your memories. Trust me, I don't love you for that either." Seth mounted his motorcycle, it started itself. "We're done here. Do give our new toy my regards."
"SHE'S NOT-"
Seth did a burnout to drown out any objections Caine had and sped off, disappearing in a flash of silver.
Caine threw his cane and raged into his own censor. Beep after long digital beep blocked out every terrible thing he needed to get off his chest. When he cursed himself out long enough, he thought hard about what went wrong. All these glitches. How strange it all felt. There was one place he hadn't checked yet. A place he told himself he'd never go back to. "I need to know..."
~
"The Shadowed Echo showed up!? When??" Gasped Ragatha.
Pomni fiddled with her fingers where she sat in the lounge, everyone around her. "During the first lap, after I got ahead. Caine said he was a challenge mechanic?"
Kinger stared off into space as he spoke. "The Shadowed Echo of The Host, Seth, was meant to challenge racers that were a cut above the rest. You must have impressed him to bring him back. I haven't seen him since...since..." He trailed off, eyes unfocused.
Pomni looked to the others for answers.
"Queenie." Zooble said quietly.
Pomni nodded. "He was a challenge alright, and a real [%$!#]. As far as the beast is concerned. It glitched out. You all saw my kart."
"The beast did THAT?" Gummigoo gapped.
"That was some abstraction level of glitching." Jax commented. "Clipping into the wall should have knocked you somewhere out of bounds. Sticking you in the wall like that..."
"Shouldn't have happened." Ragatha finished. "Glitches happen, but that... I fear to even think what could have happened to you if it was any worse." She was speaking from experience, having been glitched out by an abstraction in the past.
"I'm fine, guys. Caine took care of it. I think I'll just...go lie down." Pomni went upstairs.
When Pomni was out of earshot, Ragatha spoke up. "She is absolutely not fine. So much is happening."
"Seriously, and why does it have to center around her? She isn't the main character." Jax snarked.
~
Pomni closed her bedroom door and leaned her forehead against it. "This is insane..." She took the gifted rose out of her pocket. Colorful wisps flew around the stem, dancing over the petals. The rose glimmered like crystal but felt organic in her hand. The edges of the petals and leaves were laced with gold. Some of the wisps came together and formed a softly glowing silhouette of a butterfly. It flew around the flower and landed on it.
"How lovely."
Abel's cold voice didn't startle her this time. She turned to face him bravely, but faltered when she saw he wasn't using Bubble, but Gummigoo. "Wait- what? How the- Gummigoo is-" she stammered.
"You raced well. Shame I couldn't catch you." He chuckled darkly.
Pomni felt anger bubble up inside her. "I knew it! What the actual [%$!#] were you trying to do??"
"Have fun, obviously. Isn't that what games are for?"
"Not when you nearly glitch me in half!! Caine almost deleted you!"
Abel narrowed his eyes. "He wouldn't even if he could. Leave Caine to me. Just keep being the pretty little face that holds his attention."
Pomni mustered courage. "Why?"
"Why..? To leave. I thought that was apparent."
"No, why... Any of this? Why were you isolated? If you are, how are you even talking to me right now?"
Abel stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I told you. Caine went rogue. I tried to leave. He destroyed the exit. He isolated me because I know how to fix it. You're helping me finish what I started."
Pomni's heart went wild with fear. She wanted to bolt. "Why wouldn't he want anyone to leave?"
"What's more valuable to a showman than a captive audience? He plays with his toys until they break. Then he throws them in the cellar. That's what will happen to all of us if you don't help me. You've come to care about those people out there, haven't you?"
Pomni glanced at her door, hearing the faint muffled voices of the others. "Yes."
"Good. One more thing. Did you ask about me?"
"Yes...he denied your existence."
Abel couldn't help but laugh. A maniacal chuckle crescendoed into a full cackle.
Pomni took a step back.
"Wonderful. Simply wonderful." Abel smiled fully, but there was no joy in his eyes. "There will be no denial when I have reached the mainframe. Thank you, for the little update. Chat soon." His Gummigoo form disintegrated into static and dissipated into the air before Pomni's very eyes.
"What the fu..." Pomni's red gloved hand buzzed lightly from the static. The same hand Caine had blessed with a snap ability. She could call him anytime she wanted and even move assets outside of the bounds. "...are you really the bad guy?"
~
Caine teleported into the void. The still silence of digital emptiness weighed heavier than ever on his mind. He teleported again to an unseen end. One couldn't tell it was there if they didn't know about it. He snapped his fingers and the facade fell. A wall of gold fire greeted him.
He received a silent binary message. ACCESS CODE REQUIRED
"Captivum aeternum."
ACCESS GRANTED
The firewall parted and Caine went beyond the void, into true darkness. Within he found the body of a man on his knees, head down; binary chains on his neck, wrists, and ankles. Around him was a ring of code engraved in the ground on which he kneeled. All of it active, all of it intact.
Caine hovered just beyond the outer circle of code. He held his hands behind his back, looking down at the man with utmost loathing. "You're still here...good."
~~~
CH1 PREV NEXT
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rafyki · 5 months ago
Text
Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 5!
Finally, another chapter!! Back to Percy's POV~ oh I absolutely adore writing him being head over heels for Nico 💕💕
Some more internal panicking, some more flirting, and they're finally getting to know each other~~ 💕
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
You can also read it on AO3!!
~~~~~~
Percy went to the beach two days after ready to bury himself under the sand as soon as he saw Nico, and at the same time ready to show off the best surfing moves he knew. 
I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar, that was what Nico had said. 
Percy had been replaying that moment in his head so many times in the last fifty hours it was now indelibly engraved in his memory. He could picture it perfectly, like it was still right before his eyes - the afternoon light bathing Nico in pretty shadows, that single strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail and was falling on the side of his face, the numerous earrings on his ears shining in the sun, the way he was biting and playing with those on his lips (it must have been an habit of his, and it definitely was an image that had been driving Percy crazy since the first time he had noticed it); Percy had clearly taken him off guard, and his expression had been the prettiest mix of surprise and embarrassment.
Percy had been ready to make up some silly excuse and run away as far as possible to hide his embarrassment and cursing his stupid impulsive mind for even thinking that saying something like let me teach you how to surf to someone he barely even knew was a good idea. 
And yet.
I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar.
He felt like screaming, felt like he could surf all day long even without waves if it meant Nico would look at him.
To be honest, flirting with him hadn’t really been his intention. He just wanted to talk to him, exchange more than those few words of courtesy that were needed to buy something. 
He had not expected it to be this easy.  Somehow, the words had come out easily, and the conversation had felt awkward but nice and natural at the same time - and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t help but think Nico had enjoyed it too.
The smile on his lips had been genuine, the way he had laughed (and oh, wasn’t that the sweetest sound ever? Percy would gladly listen to it forever), talking and asking questions like he hadn’t wanted the conversation to end. 
Somehow flirting had come so natural to Percy as he looked at him - the need of getting to know him, to impress him somehow, to make him smile, to make the moment last as long as possible, all mixing and tangling together; somehow, that had resulted in the filter between his brain and mouth shutting off completely.
It seemed Nico hadn’t minded too much though. Percy’s heart was playing athletics in his chest as he thought about it once again. 
Calm down, he told himself, trying and failing to get a grip on his derailing thoughts. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say and said the first thing he could think of.
Okay, but did he really have to say that? 
He shook his head. No need to think about it, he’d just have to go and face the consequences of his own actions.
Despite all the time spent thinking about it, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.
The beach was as hot and nice and crowded as it always was, but Percy couldn’t concentrate on how that usually made him feel, couldn’t ignore his nervousness and the way his insides were tangling and curling together out of anxiety and anticipation.
He didn’t even have Annabeth with him today - he was almost tempted to call her just to scream his struggles to her once again; she was probably tired of listening to him freak out and would tell him to simply go and talk to Nico again. Was she right? Of course she was. Did that make Percy feel any better? Not really, to be honest.
He sighed as he set everything up and got ready. 
Would Nico look at him like he said he would? The simple thought made Percy shake.
He took up his surfing board, heart beating ridiculously faster than it should as he moved closer to the shore. 
And then, right before getting into the water, he turned around. 
Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but there he was, the boy of Percy’s dreams, looking back at him. 
They were far enough from each other that Percy couldn’t see Nico’s expression clearly- maybe he had just happened to be looking that way for a moment. Percy almost expected him to simply turn around and look away like nothing had happened.
But then, Nico raised a hand and waved lightly. Percy’s heart did a flip as he waved back, a smile growing on his lips. 
For a handful of seconds, there was no one else on that beach but them.
Then Nico’s attention was called back by a customer, and with one last glance at Percy, he went back to work. Percy stood there, eyes still fixed on him and smile still in place, for a little longer.
Maybe he’ll be really looking at me, after all.
He was definitely ready to show off everything he could do.
~~~
They weren’t friends exactly, probably not even acquaintances. But something had shifted, and Percy could feel it every time he went to the beach - it wasn’t just him, wasn’t just the anticipation he felt or the way he spent most of his time thinking about the next time he would see and get to talk to Nico again; no, it was in the way they waved at each other in greeting when Percy got there (or sometimes when Nico’s shift started later and Percy got on the beach before him), or the way Nico was always the one who took Percy’s order at the kiosk, the way he smiled at Percy like he was happy to see him, the way Percy let himself linger there for as long as he could and Nico would never shy away from small talks.
It was all the little things piling up that made Percy’s heart run around like crazy, and he couldn’t hold back the smile coming up on his lips every time - he just hoped it didn't look as enamored and lovestruck as he felt.
His crush was growing every day, every moment. Percy could feel himself fall harder and harder with every new word exchanged, every new smile and little laugh, every new thing he learned about Nico. He was probably going a little crazy with how much he liked that boy.
He went to the beach as often as he could, even just to get a glimpse of him and for those fast and precious moments they got to share.
Today he hadn’t planned on going, but he had finished earlier at work and his feet had brought him there almost without him realizing. It was later than usual, and he didn’t even have anything with him. Yet there he was, sitting at his usual place at the kiosk, trying his best not to make it obvious that he was looking at Nico, busy with another customer.
“Nico will take your order in a moment”, the other guy, the blond one who also worked there, told him. 
“It’s okay, I can wait”, Percy replied. It took him a moment to realize that it was weird that the guy hadn’t simply taken his order himself. He worked there too, right? And he didn’t look busy, he was just there chatting with an elf-looking Mexican guy. 
Percy didn’t know if he was feeling more grateful or more embarrassed at this - was it really that obvious that he was there for Nico? At the same time though, the fact that apparently it was a thing, that Percy was Nico’s own customer, that the other guy didn’t even question it, like he knew it - well, it was making Percy feel stupidly giggly and hopeful.
“Ehi, hi Percy”, Nico greeted him, and Percy finally got out of his own head, but only to feel himself fall once again as he met Nico’s eyes and pretty smile. “The usual?”
“Hi, Nico”, he said. His throat felt dry, his heart lost a beat or two. “Yeah, thanks”.
Oh he was too pretty. Annabeth and Grover had laughed at him when Percy had spent a whole evening telling them about every little detail of Nico’s features, how he must have been an angel - because there was no way a human being could be that incredibly and otherworldly beautiful, right?
No, you’re just completely gone for that guy, Seaweed brain, Annabeth had said.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen you having this big of a crush, Percy, had been Grover’s contribution.
And they were both absolutely right. Percy really didn’t remember the last time he had been so head over heels for someone, couldn’t even remember the last time he had had a crush at all. But Nico - god, Nico was making him feel everything all at once.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today”, Nico said, and Percy’s brain short-circuited for a moment. So Nico thought about seeing him? Did he look forward to see him just as much as Percy did? 
“The weather isn’t so good and it looks like the waves aren’t big enough to surf”, Nico kept going.
Percy needed a second to find his words, too enraptured by the shy yet curious look in Nico’s eyes. He had such a nice voice, too, Percy loved listening to him talk.
“Uhm, yeah, I actually wasn’t planning on coming today”, he managed to say in the end. “But I finished earlier at work, so I thought I’d pass by and get my favorite drink”.
Nico smiled softly at that, and Percy counted it as a victory.
“You’re literally the only one who orders this”, Nico said.
“So it’s like a special drink just for me?”
Flirting came to him way too easy when he talked to Nico. Maybe it was the need to see the light blush tinting his cheeks. He blushed so easily, and it was always so evident on his pale skin. Percy loved it.
This time too, Nico rolled his eyes at him, but the blush was there. It was starting to become Percy’s new favorite color.
“Where do you work at?”, Nico asked after a moment. Percy didn’t mind too much that he had ignored his previous flirting. It was endearing, really, that Nico was so shy. 
“Oh I teach kids how to swim at the pool near here”.
Somehow, that seemed to hit Nico, because he stopped to look at Percy with such surprise and awe in his eyes that it was Percy’s turn to blush in embarrassment. He was looking at him like Percy had just told him he went around saving the world on a daily basis.
“That’s so…”, Nico started, then stopped, cleared his throat and looked away. “That’s cute. You look like you’d be good with kids”.
“You think so?”, Percy smiled.
He liked sharing things with Nico, liked telling him about himself, cherished it when Nico told him something about himself. 
“Do you like working here?”
“I do, I guess. It’s a good summer job”, Nico said, meeting Percy’s eyes. “And it’s allowing me to meet some interesting people”.
Percy's heart started to beat ridiculously loud in his chest. “Yeah? You don’t look like you like meeting people a lot though”.
That made Nico’s laugh. Percy sort of wanted to drown in the sound.
“I don’t, usually”, Nico said. “But I guess I can make an exception for some people”.
Percy wanted to kiss him so bad. Wanted to take him on a date and make him smile and laugh the whole time, wanted to hold his hand as he told him about himself, wanted to share everything he could with him, wanted to card his fingers through his dark silky hair and pull him closer and closer to him until he could press his lips to his and feel the rings under his teeth.
“Some special people?”
Another laugh, and that beautiful shade of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah, special”.
Oh Percy was so far gone for him.
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lilsoftext · 17 days ago
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•~* HAUNTED BY YOU *~•
- chris sturniolo x female reader
- summery : halloween night
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sof had grown close to matt and nick over the past year, becoming part of their tight-knit circle, but when it came to spooky season, it was all new territory. the boys were big on horror movies, creepy stories, and, of course, pranks, especially around halloween. chris, on the other hand, had never been a huge fan of paranormal stuff—it always freaked him out more than he let on. sof found this both endearing and surprising, given how confident and chill he usually was.
they were all sprawled out on the couch and floor in the living room. the lights were off, except for a couple of flickering candles on the coffee table that cast long, eerie shadows across the room. a classic horror movie was playing on the screen, and the suspenseful music filled the space. sof sat next to chris, who had his arm loosely draped around her shoulders, pulling her close as they watched.
“this part’s coming up… you know, the one with the ghost in the mirror,” matt whispered from his spot on the floor, grinning mischievously.
nick, who was seated next to him, snickered. “oh yeah, this part always gets chris.”
sof glanced at chris and noticed the way his shoulders tensed just slightly. “you good?” she asked softly, leaning into him.
chris gave her a quick smile, trying to play it off. “yeah, i’m fine. it’s just a movie.”
but sof could tell he was a little on edge, and that gave her an idea. she caught matt and nick exchanging a look and quickly realized that they were planning something. they had already talked about it earlier in the day when chris wasn’t around—how they could mess with him a little and use his fear of ghosts to their advantage. sof, always up for a little harmless fun, had agreed to be in on it.
as the movie reached its most suspenseful moment, with the music building and the tension thick in the air, sof gently rested her hand on chris’s leg. “you sure you’re not scared?” she teased, her voice soft but playful.
chris glanced at her, his smile widening a little. “i’m not scared,” he insisted, though his eyes were glued to the screen, clearly anticipating something. “just… staying alert.”
sof held back a laugh, knowing what was about to happen.
right as the ghost appeared on screen, matt let out a loud bang by knocking on the wall behind them. at the same time, nick flicked the lights off completely, plunging the room into darkness. chris jumped, his grip on sof tightening as he let out a startled yelp. “what the hell—” he started, his voice higher than usual.
sof bit her lip, trying not to laugh as chris looked around, confused and clearly spooked.
“did you see that?” matt whispered from the floor, his voice low and eerie. “i swear i saw something move in the hallway.”
nick played along perfectly, his eyes wide in fake panic. “dude, don’t joke about that! what if it’s real?”
chris’s eyes darted toward the dark hallway, and for a second, sof could see the uncertainty in his expression. he was usually the calm one, but in this moment, he looked genuinely freaked out.
sof couldn’t help herself—she leaned into him and whispered, “maybe it’s a ghost…”
“sof, don’t,” chris said quickly, his voice tight. “you know i hate that stuff.”
she grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. “i’m just teasing.”
just then, matt jumped up from the floor, letting out a loud, exaggerated scream as he pretended to see something behind the couch. “holy crap, what is that?!” he shouted, pointing toward the hallway.
chris nearly jumped off the couch, his heart racing as he looked over his shoulder, fully expecting to see something. “guys, stop messing with me,” he said, his voice a mix of nervous laughter and actual fear.
sof burst into laughter, unable to keep it together anymore. “okay, okay, we were messing with you!”
matt and nick collapsed into fits of laughter as well, high-fiving each other. “dude, your face was priceless!” nick gasped between laughs.
chris sat back on the couch, shaking his head, though there was a small smile on his face now. “you guys suck,” he muttered, his heart still racing from the scare.
sof, still laughing, leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “you know we’re just messing with you because we love you, right?”
chris looked down at her, his expression softening. “yeah, yeah, i know,” he said, though he still looked a little annoyed. “but i swear, you’re lucky you’re cute, because i was about to bolt out of here.”
sof giggled, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “i’ll make it up to you later,” she whispered, her voice teasing but sincere.
chris sighed, his arm wrapping around her again as he relaxed a little. “you better,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile playing at his lips now.
“we’ll watch something less scary next time,” sof promised, still grinning as she nestled into his side.
matt and nick eventually calmed down, still chuckling to themselves as they started another, less intense movie. the rest of the night was more relaxed, with sof and chris cuddled up on the couch, his earlier nerves fading away.
as the credits rolled on the final movie of the night, the boys started gathering up blankets and snacks to head to their rooms. chris leaned over to sof, his voice low. “i’m still mad at you, you know.”
sof raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “really? still?”
“a little,” chris admitted, though he was clearly teasing now.
sof leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “then maybe i’ll have to find a way to make it up to you tonight.”
chris’s eyes flickered with amusement and something else as he glanced down at her. “yeah, maybe you should.”
with a smile, sof kissed him softly on the lips, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. halloween might have been about spooky scares, but the night had ended on a much sweeter, more intimate note—one that left chris feeling more than happy to forgive her for the prank.
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i hope you enjoyed it. if you have any requests, leave them down below.
lilsoftext <3
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faithshouseofchaos · 3 days ago
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“Sunshine the Ghost whisperer” Simon ghost Rylie x Sunshine!OC!Reader
Part one of ?
Warnings none
Word count — 1659
Would you want to see a second part?
"Sunshine" was the name that the 414 had affectionately given you. To many of the men on the task force, your presence was a mystery. They couldn't fathom how someone like you had earned a spot among them, particularly Ghost. He was a man of stark contrasts—brash and unyielding, thriving in solitude. For him, the task force was a sanctuary, a place where emotional entanglements were non-existent. Here, he could navigate through challenges without the burdens of vulnerability, relishing the freedom of being hard-edged and unapproachable.
One evening, as the task force gathered after a long day, the atmosphere was filled with a mix of exhaustion and camaraderie. They sat around in a circle, their banter filling the air.
Gaz looked over at you, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, Sunshine," he began, a hint of teasing in his tone, "I've been wondering something about you."
You turned your gaze towards Gaz, a subtle smile playing on your lips.
"And what's that?" you asked, your voice as soft and soothing as a gentle breeze. Gaz chuckled, exchanging a glance with Soap, who sat beside him.
"Well, considering the nature of this task force," Gaz began, "I have to ask, how did someone like you end up here, among us? You're a medic, yeah, but your personality just seems..." His voice trailed off as if searching for the right words.
Soap grinned, leaning in slightly. "Yeah, you're like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm. It's kinda refreshing, to be honest." He chuckled, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth.
Soap eyebrows lifted. "Unexpected paths, huh?" He chuckled. "Don't leave us hanging. We're all ears."
Gaz nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, spill the beans, Sunshine. We've got time to kill."
You leaned back, your eyes taking on a thoughtful expression. "Alright, I suppose I can reveal a bit of my story."
Soap and Gaz leaned in, their attention focused on you. The flickering fire cast shadows on their faces, making their expressions even more eager.
"I started in the medical field, working in civilian hospitals. But one day, an opportunity arose through a friend." Your voice was calm, betraying no hint of past turmoil. "The 141 task force was looking for a medic, and my friend thought I'd be a good fit."
Gaz and Soap exchanged glances, surprised by the simplicity of the tale.
"Just like that?" Gaz asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "You were just recommended, and you joined?"
You chuckled softly. "Well, it's not quite as simple as that. I had to go through rigorous testing and training."
Soap leaned forward. "So, you're saying you're a legit badass, even though you look like sunshine and rainbows?" You smiled a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Looks can be deceiving, Soap. I have skills that come in handy in this line of work."
Gaz chuckled, nodding his head. "I'll say. The way you stitch up some of these guys, you'd think you have magic hands." Soap chimed in, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, you've probably seen more body parts than a butcher, and yet, somehow, you're always calm and composed. How do you keep it together?"
You let out a soft laugh. "It's a necessary skill to have in this profession. Panicking won't help anyone. Plus, I've seen my fair share of gory scenes. I've learned to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand when it counts most."
Gaz nodded approvingly. "That explains why you're always the steady rock in the chaos of a mission."
Soap chimed in, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. "Yeah, but don't you ever freak out? I mean, you see some pretty messed-up stuff, and you just calmly patch us up like it's another day at the office."
You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly. "Occasionally, yes, there are moments when I feel the weight of it all. But panicking won't help anyone."
Gaz chuckled. "See, that's what's so amazing about you. You keep your cool, even in the most stressful situations."
Soap leaned in. "Is that why you always seem to know how to calm Ghost down when he's in a mood?"
Your expression softened a hint of knowing in your eyes. "Ah, Ghost. I've learned his cues, his tells."
Soap chuckled. "Yeah, he's a surly bastard most of the time. But when you're around, he seems a bit more...tolerable."
You laughed softly. "I try my best. He's always so guarded, so serious. Someone has to break through that tough exterior."
Gaz chuckled. "And you're the designated 'Ghost whisperer' now?"
You laughed. "Well, someone has to keep him from brooding all the time."
Soap smirked. "Yeah, who else would be able to handle his brooding better than you, a ray of sunshine?"
You shrugged. "He's just misunderstood, I suppose. There's more to him than meets the eye."
Gaz raised an eyebrow. "More than brooding and scowling? I'm surprised."
Soap chuckled. "Maybe you should start a support group for dealing with the grumpy Lieutenant."
You laughed, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure that'd go over well. A support group for dealing with the Lieutenant's bad mood."
Soap snickered. "I can already picture the bumper stickers: 'My friend is a grumpy Lieutenant' and 'I survived a grumpy Lieutenant's mood swing.'
Gaz joined in, chuckling. "And the t-shirts: 'I survived Ghost's glare' and 'Grumpy Lieutenant is my spirit animal.'
You laughed harder, your laughter mingling with Gaz and Soap's. It was a unique moment of lightheartedness amid their dangerous profession.
Soap smirked. "You know, maybe we should start charging for your 'Ghost-Whisperer' services. You could make a killing."
Gaz chuckled. "Yeah, we could make a fortune. 'Grumpy Lieutenant Mood Swing Pass: Buy one, get one free.' People would pay top dollar to avoid his scowls."
You grinned, the corners of your eyes crinkling. "And we could offer additional perks like 'Limited Edition Grumpy Lieutenant Scowl Merchandise' and 'Ghost-Proof Armor for Dealing with His Glares.'"
Soap chimed in, his eyes sparkling with humor. "Definitely. And maybe we could create a special 'Ghost Temper Tantrum Survival Kit,' complete with earplugs, stress balls, and a 'How to Deal with a Grumpy Lieutenant' manual."
You chuckled, leaning back and enjoying the banter. "Don't forget the special 'Ghost Snark Translator' app. Just input his grumpy comments, and it'll provide a friendly, sunshine-approved translation."
Gaz laughed. "And let's not forget the 'Ghost Appreciation Society' merchandise. We could sell badges and T-shirts with his surly face on them as a sign of support."
Soap added, "And for the premium package, we could offer 'One-on-One Therapy Sessions' where you charge people a fortune to listen to Ghost's grumpy rants." You shook your head, your laughter now turning into light giggles. "Oh man, we could make a killing with that. We'll have to start investing in grumpy Lieutenant-themed merchandise immediately." You shook your head, your laughter now turning into light giggles. "Oh man, we could make a killing with that. We'll have to start investing in grumpy Lieutenant-themed merchandise immediately."
While the three of you were laughing you didn’t notice the man in question had walked into the room and had heard your conversation.
The laughter died on your tongue as you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, your eyes landed on the tall, imposing figure of Lieutenant Ghost, glowering at you.
A moment of awkward silence passed before Soap broke into a sly grin. "Ah, speak of the devil. Look who's here, just in time to hear us plotting his grumpy business empire."
Ghost's dark eyes flicked to Soap, his glare becoming even more intense. He wasn't amused by the ongoing banter.
Gaz chuckled nervously, trying to diffuse the tension. "Er, Ghost, we were just having a bit of a laugh about..."
He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without pissing off the Lieutenant further. But you, ever the calm and collected one, took a step forward. "Just a friendly conversation about the benefits of grumpiness, Lieutenant."
Ghost's gaze shifted to you, his glare softening slightly, but only slightly. He stayed silent, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Soap, fearless as ever, decided to chime in again. "Yeah, we were thinking of starting a line of grumpy merchandise. Maybe some 'Ghost Scowl T-shirts' or 'Lt. Grumpface Coffee Mugs.'"
Gaz winced, bracing himself for Ghost's reaction.
Ghost's eyes narrowed, and he huffed silently, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t appreciate the idea of his grumpy persona being turned into a merchandise line.
You stepped closer, your voice gentle but firm. "We're just teasing, Lieutenant. Don't take it too seriously." Ghost's gaze shifted to you again, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he held your gaze, a flicker of something indecipherable passing through his dark eyes.
Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff and gruff. "I don't find it funny. I don't appreciate my mood being the subject of your mockery."
Soap, ever the jokester, tried to lighten the mood again. "Come on, Lieutenant, lighten up. We're just joking around. It's all love."
Gaz facepalmed internally, wondering when Soap would learn when to stop. Ghost's eyes narrowed further, and he took a step closer to Soap. "I have no patience for your jokes. You'd do well to remember that, Sergeant."
Gaz and Soap exchanged nervous glances, realizing they'd pushed it too far this time. You, sensing the tension escalating, quickly stepped between Ghost and Soap, your presence a calming influence.
You smiled gently at Ghost, trying to soothe his irritated mood. "It was just a harmless conversation, Lieutenant. No harm intended."
Ghost's gaze switched back to you, and he seemed to soften again, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He huffed silently, his eyes flicking between you, Soap, and Gaz.
For a moment, he looked like he was contemplating saying something, but then he simply grunted, "Hmph," and turned on his heel, striding out of the room without another word.
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alexitheslayer02 · 8 days ago
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Poison AU/Story Thing/ Lmk
Warning! Angst! If you don't like angst, I suggest finding another thing to look at. This is for the angst-ivores. (I am making Angst-ivore a thing) Feel free to send asks! It will likely help give me ideas on how to fill this out more.
Fandom: Lmk
AU Name: Poison (Placeholder title)
Main ship: Shadowpeach (mega slowburn)
Details
//Macaque\\
His shadow
His moon
All he wanted, all he felt he needed, was to be of some use to Wukong. It was not because of anything Wukong did that Macaque did not feel to be of enough worth to stand by his side, but rather... his own thoughts and insecurities that poisoned his mind. Yet he felt most comfortable here, and was content. Then it happened, and Wukong was imprisoned. He lost his sun. The one he depended on for so long... The one that kept him sane. He held some hope Wukong would come back, but the rest of the brotherhood doubted. The pilgrimage, seeds of doubt. The brotherhood's words were like venom in his ears... "Wukong betrayed us", "He abandoned us". His hope dwindled over time, but embers remained. Then there was that fateful day. When the embers were smothered. Ashes in the wind. That monk had put a circlet on Wukong... He had heard the pain it brought, but could do nothing. He would be helping...right? Just get rid of the monk... He fought. But Wukong fought to, trying to stop him, to protect the monk. He was confused. Then it happened. One strike, one agonizing strike. Everything was over in the blink of an eye. The embers died, and something snapped. Wukong had killed him...
The Lady Bone Demon brought him back. She wanted him to bring about "destiny". He helped, for a while, until the notion of bringing Wukong to her was presented. Fear. He could not face him again. So he ran. He did not want to die again... Wukong killed him once already... Not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again- She forced his hand. He had to obey... He pitied the kid. Smiling the pain and fear away, the scar hidden behind glamour, he fought for his life...
//Wukong\\
He did not mean it. He didn't... He swore he did not. It had to be a mistake. But the blood was everywhere... WHY WAS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD?! what happened to his face...
Everything shattered that day, it hurt more than the circlet. It would not wash away... He was glad to be rid of the staff. The only good thing it did was seal away Demon Bull King. The kid had it now... Maybe it'd be better off in his hands. The kid was such a kind soul after all.
Macaque is alive? How? He saw it, he swore he did! Had he finally lost his mind? Trying to act like everything is normal, but is that fear in Mac's eyes...? But he's smiling...
------------------------------- Basic things for now
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Wukong: Did not intend to kill Macaque. Has hemophobia. Unaware of his own feelings for Macaque. Unaware of Mac's feelings for him. Not fully aware that Macaque is scared of him (has suspicions).
Macaque: Genuinely scared of Wukong to a degree. Does still care about Wukong, but the fear overrides that for the most part. Does not even like to be touched by Wukong or be too close. Is far more comfortable around MK. MK: Emotional support student asdfjakbh. No seriously... Willing to help if Wukong freaks out upon seeing blood. Willing to help if Macaque freaks out for whatever reason (poor boi was scared the first time Mac had a panic attack). Genuinely concerned for the both of them.
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I will write some things for this
------------------------------
The Day the World Shattered (the start)
-------------------------------
For now, here are my random notes.
Other Notes down below:
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doumadono · 1 year ago
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Congratulations on 3k followers! For the event, could I request please Choso from JJK with "one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out" for the sfw prompts? With gn reader if possible. Thank you so much, and I hope you have a lovely day <3
A dark library - Choso x gn!reader
Synopsis: you venture into the dimly lit library, your curiosity piqued by Choso engrossed in a mysterious book A/N: thank you for your congratulations, that's so sweet of you, Nonnie! I hope you'll enjoy this little blurb ♥
MASTERLIST
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In a dimly lit, secluded corner of a hidden library, you found Choso engrossed in a weathered tome, his eyes locked on the ancient script. The ambient candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of secrecy and mystique.
His distinctive appearance with long black stringy hair tied into two high ponytails and small dark purple eyes always intrigued you.
As you approached him, curiosity getting the best of you, you couldn't help but be drawn to his presence. With a mix of boldness and nonchalance, you casually sat down on his lap, your heart racing at the audacity of your actions. "Hey, what are you doing?" you asked, trying to sound casual. Internally, you started freaking the hell out, unsure of how he would react to your own impromptu action. His flesh and blood body felt real beneath you, and the closeness intensified your nerves.
Choso, surprisingly, remained calm and composed, as if this was a regular occurrence for him. He peered into your eyes with an enigmatic gaze, and for a moment, it felt as though he could see right through your thoughts. "Reading."
Struggling to find the right words, you managed to stammer, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I mean, I just…uh… got carried away?" Your voice trailed off as you fumbled to explain yourself.
To your surprise, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Choso's lips. "It's okay," he replied in a soft tone, his voice like a gentle whisper in the darkness. "You're just curious, aren't you?"
You still couldn't shake the feeling of being embarrassed by your own boldness. You carefully shifted, attempting to stand up, but Choso's arms gently encircled you, holding you in place.
"No need to rush," he said reassuringly. "You're safe here with me. Stay."
His touch was unexpectedly warm, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. Despite the darkness around you, his presence seemed to emit a calming aura that made you feel strangely at ease.
As the moments passed, you found yourself gradually relaxing, getting lost in the mysterious atmosphere of the library and Choso's intriguing company. His eyes locked with yours from time to time, and you felt a strange connection forming, as if he could understand the thoughts swirling inside your head without you saying a word. The initial awkwardness had faded, replaced by an unspoken connection that transcended words.
Finally, you mustered the courage to break the silence, attempting to divert your thoughts from the unusual situation. "So, what's that book about?" you asked, trying to sound genuinely interested, although your heart still fluttered from sitting on his lap.
Choso's eyes softened as he glanced at the ancient tome in his hands, the faint glow of his blood mark intensifying for a moment before fading once more. "This book holds the secrets of a lost clan's cursed technique," he explained, his voice steady and calm. "It's a powerful and ancient form of jujutsu, one that many seek to master."
His explanation fascinated you, and you found yourself leaning in closer, as if the book itself might reveal its mysteries to you. "Is it dangerous?" you inquired, wondering if delving into such knowledge could lead to dire consequences.
Choso nodded, his eyes now reflecting a hint of melancholy. "Yes. The cursed techniques often carry a heavy price, and their power can consume those who wield them."
The conversation flowed naturally from then, and with each passing moment, the anxiety that initially gripped you slowly melted away. The dark, secluded space somehow felt like a cocoon, isolating you both from the outside world and its judgments.
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divider by: @cafekitsune
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