#the keep goes down often enough. i get a little worried

[fuckyeahisawthat]

While I absolutely adore all the "Viktor acquires Jayce's last name for accidental/practical/non-romantic reasons" ideas, I think Viktor would have had to solve his last name problem for paperwork reasons as a student at the Academy, and if he didn't have a last name, the simplest option would be to steal one.

He figures out within three days of starting at the Academy that he needs a family name.

Introducing himself as "just Viktor" gets him marked out as from the undercity immediately, if missing one of a hundred other social cues hasn't already. "Don't you know no one knows whose kids are whose down there?" he hears someone scoff from down the hall, after he's extracted himself from a conversation that was going nowhere good.

Family, like most things in the undercity, is assembled from spare parts more often than not. Family is who will have your back if someone is giving you shit; who will offer you half of something that is already not enough. His parents by blood are both alive and still live together, but no one knows them as anything other than Iveta and Hal.

But topsiders care about things like bloodlines and inheritance, and they all have family names. Not just the rich kids whose family names are carved into buildings, but the children of merchants and craftspeople and workers.

So, he needs to acquire one.

He can't just make one up. What if he picks something that sounds obviously fake to their ears? Or worse, the name of a real, well-known family that he then has to explain his connection to? No, it has to be a real name, just not one that anyone would care about.

He goes to the cemetery. Not the fancy one with the high wrought-iron gates and elaborate masoleums, but a humble one, in a part of the city filled with the modest homes of tradespeople. He searches until he finds an ill-tended family plot, the most recent date of death a hundred years in the past. A simple man, maybe a baker, judging by the carving on the headstone. That will do.

He makes up a story to go with it (a Piltover family of small shopkeepers, forced into the undercity by hard times several generations ago, but topsiders by ancestry still) and starts writing his name as Viktor Trini on homework assignments and forms.

"Viktor." Professor Heimerdinger catches his attention after class one day, a few weeks into the term. Viktor has a routine for this steep amphitheater-style lecture hall by now. Sit in the front so he doesn't have to deal with the stairs; make a bit of a show of gathering up his books and papers slowly after class, letting the students who are in a hurry get out the door first, without his uneven steps slowing them down.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Excellent work on the last assignment. Inspired problem-solving, if I must say."

"Thank you, Professor." He'd been gratified by the solution he came up with, but it's nice to hear someone else say it, too.

Heimerdinger is still holding his problem set paper, rocking on his toes on the small stepladder he uses when lecturing, when he doesn't get too animated and just start striding across the desk like a stage. "You know," he says. "I knew an Aloisius Trini, many years ago. Lovely fellow. He could get a bit gruff with the customers, when the shop was busy, but he made the best meat pies, so nobody cared. I was wondering, might he be your...grandfather perhaps?"

"Yes," Viktor says quickly. "Though I never knew him."

Heimerdinger lowers his voice conspiratorially. "I think you will find that great-grandfather works better, given the math." And he winks.

Viktor's throat goes dry. "Professor, I--"

"Ah-ah. No need to worry, my dear boy. Most people you meet in Piltover won't be nearly three hundred years old." He leans in, drops his voice to a whisper again. "We'll keep this our little secret."

Ah. He understands what's going on now. "Of course. What do you want in return?" He doesn't like this, owing someone who could have him expelled with the stroke of a pen.

Heimerdinger looks surprised at the question. "Nothing!" he says. But that can't be true. He'll ask for something sooner or later.

"I want you to succeed," Heimerdinger says after a moment. "I've seen a lot of students come through these halls, and you're very bright. I predict you'll do extraordinary things."

It still feels like a trap, and maybe it shows on his face, because after a minute Heimerdinger makes a noise of frustration and says, "Fine. If you insist on viewing this as a favor to be repaid, come to my office. There's a lightbulb that needs changing and I can't reach it."

That, he can do. "Thank you, Professor," he says quietly as Heimerdinger hops down the stairs of the stepladder.

"Don't thank me until you've seen the state of this light fixture. I can't reach it to dust, either."

[mabaris]

my fear about them not using the keep for datv (along with the fact that it allows for less variance in worldstate, but i do buy the excuse that a lot of that stuff won’t be relevant in a wider story set years later) is that the keep is going to be abandoned and/or deactivated, making it impossible to play any type of custom world state in inquisition

[medicinemane]

Anyway, hope you're all doing well

I just... I haven't slept and also I've got like... 2-4 days of tumblr to catch up on... mostly to make sure I don't lose anything I want to keep requeuing

In many ways I'm probably doing better than I have been in a long time... maybe ever, but... I've got zero focus, I can barely watch youtube videos, I certainly can't play games... I can't get myself to clean... I don't know man

It's like... it's like my mind's empty except for some thick clear goopy sludge... it's like being over at a strange house sat alone in a big room waiting for people to come back... not wanting to touch anything so you just sit there staring and feeling out of sorts, except it's just constant in my own house in my own room... just saw Bart flop down in front of my door and realized I'm so out of it I forgot I had cats

It's like I'm living every moment in the moment, but not in a peaceful way, in a I'm untethered from reality and trying to figure out plans or how to deal with getting everything sorted out is just kinda painful kinda way

Then my mood... well... I kinda have no mood. I'm fucking numb if I'm honest. I have flavor opinions like "I'm worthless and should kill myself", but I actually don't even feel depressed right now, I feel nothing

I don't see much point to my future even if everything goes great, and I would like to kill myself, but I have zero interest in even considering it right now even though I have everything I need around if I just stand up and take a single step

So... much as it probably sounds like I'm just pure in the trash right now, I'm actually in many ways probably doing better than I ever have before... I'm just also real messed up right now at the same time

I don't feel hopeful, I never feel hopeful, but I do feel like I can maybe guide shit into a good position, it's just once again I figure that even if I do everything I want to with being able to help other people out and stuff, I'll still just kinda end up alone in a crowd

You know... funny thing is I'm thinking "the fuck is even the point I wanted to make?", and I realize... my point was actually that I'm doing pretty good and not to worry... not sure how well I'm selling it, but it's true

I hesitate to assign anything to myself, my stance on me and anything I can't conclusively say tends to be no comment... but if I were looking at someone else describing what I'm feeling in my position, I might be inclined to say burnout... months of having to be on and clean and manage everything and... all that... well it's one explanation, who knows if it's correct

Anyway though, I'm good, don't worry, know I do appreciate you all and wish I had more brain power to say more to more people... it's just maybe kinda sad that this is my version of doing good... the fuck is wrong with me if I wake up everyday feeling like I've been beaten with clubs... and for me this is kinda peak... what's that say about my baseline?

Doesn't matter, only thing to do is keep moving forward

Guess insomnia paired with not really being able to think, like words just kinda pop out with no planning... guess it makes me ramble real bad, this was supposed to be like one or two paragraphs being positive

It's a Beautiful World

[interruptedtrance]

Bet (carlos x reader x lando)

Smut; 18+

word count: 2,8k

contains: buttplugs (prep for anal), anal, hand on neck/slight choking, nicknames (baby/ good girl), (calling lando daddy), mirror sex, jealous lando

carlos won a game of golf against lando, so this is his prize

thank you everyone for following, and making me hit 100 followers!! i truly didn't think i could achieve, my first milestone in only 56 days!

masterlist

“good news or bad news first” lando yells to you as soon as he enters through the door.

quickly you spin around to face him, “what have you done?”

“good news it's carlos”, you give him a confused glance, “bad news, i might have wagered you as the prize in our golf game, and lost” he says so fast you barely understand him.

“what? how did no one ask if i was alright with it?” you cry out in disbelief.

“oh come on, i know you love carlos, i have seen the way you check him out” lando teases. making you exhale in frustration.

“so explain, what exactly was the bet” you challenge, not sure if you want to know the answer.

lando moves closer to you, gently wrapping his hands around your lower back, “that he joins us”

“oh, is that it?” you question, pretending to be disappointed, “maybe he can join more often if he is good” you tease back, tracing his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck, making lando shudder.

“definitely not” he shoots back, his jealous side coming out, “you are mine”

“i am? then why did you wager me?” you mumble through a kiss.

“i thought i would win” he moans, “but baby we will have to get you ready” he groans, slowly walking you to the bed, not daring to break the kiss.

once you make your way into your shared bedroom, you break away from the kiss and climb onto the white fluffy bed, the smell of clean sheets filling your nose.

lando moves in between your legs and gives you a quick peck on the forehead, “let me go and grab the towel” you mumble a small yes in a sign of approval. while lando goes out of the room, to the linen closet you let out a sigh, at least it's carlos, you think to yourself, while shuffling across the bed to get to your nightstand where you keep the lube and toys.

“you ready?” lando questions.

“do i really have a choice?” you ask, while moving towards your boyfriend, snatching a pillow, from the headboard.

a worried expression covers lando's face, “you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to” he says fear showing on his face.

“relax, we have talked about it before, if anyone is joining, i would want it to be carlos” you give him a reassuring smile, “sit down, you need to prepare me”

“yeah, sorry” he smiles shyly, “over my lap?” he questions, making you nod in return. you hand him the pillow, which he puts on his legs and covers with the towel. stretching out his right hand to you, he invites you to lay over his lap, you gladly take his hand, and with the other strip yourself of your underwear, carefully laying down over his lap.

softly stroking your ass, lando questions if you are ready. “yes daddy” you speak, wiggling your butt.

you hear a hitch in lando’s breathing, “you tease” he chuckles "i can see you getting wet”, you mumble a little yeah in return.

“can you help me baby?” he questions without waiting for an answer, “spread yourself open for me” he orders. without much thought you reach over your hands, and spread yourself apart. “good” lando praises.

he grabs the lube bottle, opens it, and squeezes a bit out onto his fingers, spreading it around them. deciding it is not enough lube, he lifts the bottle over your hole and lets a drop fall onto it, the cold temperature, making you moan in return.

“already enjoying it?” he asks, while massaging your lower back with his other hand.

“yeah” you let out a little cry, “please continue”

“as you wish baby” he says, delicately moving his to your entrance, and teasing it a bit. gently moving his finger around the hole, slowly sliding his finger over it, but never entering.

you moan out in protest, “alright, i'll stop teasing” he promises, and gently he probes at your entrance, now applying a bit more pressure, he enters, but only up to the first knuckle making you moan.

“ready for more?” he questions simultaneously pulling out and pushing his finger back in.

“yes daddy”

“good girl” lando praises, now ever so slowly he pushes his finger fully in, making you whine in the process.

you beg, “please move”.

without answering, he obliges to your request and slowly curls his finger in you, pulling another moan from you. without question, he sees that you are open enough, and with a bit more lube, adds another finger into your hole, making you groan in the process. gently he curls his fingers, until he sees you are ready.

“do you think you are ready for your toy?”

“yes daddy”

“alright baby” he says, pulling out his fingers and whipping them onto the corner of the towel. he grabs the glass toy into his palm, to warm it up for a second. “can you stay still and relaxed for me?” he asks while lightly caressing your lower back with his other hand.

you can only nod in return, “you can stop holding yourself open”, so you relax your hands over the side of his legs, gently holding onto his tight. carefully lando moves his hand from your back to generously lube up the plug, once he is done, he moves his hand to you, and spreads you open. “can you deeply inhale for me baby”, so you do, now feeling the tip of the toy at your entrance slowly but at a steady pace entering you.

“just a little bit more” lando confirms, making you nod in return. and finally you feel it, you feel your sphincter stretch out a bit more, and close itself against the base of the toy. “we are done baby, good job” he praises softly massaging the plump flesh of your ass.

“come, stand up” he orders, and begrudgingly you get up from his lap, now feeling the weight of the toy in you, making you shuffle from side to side.

“let me go wash my hands and then we can cuddle” he says, moving the pillow and towel from his lap onto your vanity chair. you carefully climb into bed, cuddling the pillows, waiting for lando to return.

swiftly he returns back, and jumps into bed next to you, pulling you to his chest, and giving your forehead a light kiss. “rest a bit baby, get used to this plug, we will have to use the bigger plug in a bit” making you whine in protest, “i know you don’t like the plugs as much, but i have to prepare you” he speaks, while squeezing you closer together.

“i know lan” you say with a yawn.

“go take a nap” he smiles, kissing your lips.

time skip

“baby wake up, it has been a few hours” you wake up to lando peppering light kisses all over your face.

“five more minutes” you groan in return, turning around to try and get away from him, which in return only makes lando’s arms tighten around you.

“as much as i want to cuddle with you, you know that we need to prep a bit more for tonight” he says while now kissing your shoulder, “i will be as quick as i can, i promise”

you groans of protest fall on deaf ears, as lando maneuvers the pillow from your vanity chair under your hips alongside the towel. now your hips are in the air while you hide your face in another pillow.

lando with a gentle touch caresses your calf, up the tight all the way to you ass, giving it a playful squeeze. you moan, “please just switch the plugs”.

“okay baby” he replies, he stands up from the bed for a minute to grab the bigger plug from a box at the top of your closet, and the lube you have used before.

with utmost care he spreads your cheeks apart, and grabs the base of the plug. with a firm but slow tug, he pulls the widest part of the plug from your sphincter, letting your body adjust for a second, in a gentle movement he removes the rest of it from you, making you wince.

repeating the same steps form earlier, lando applies a bit of lube to his fingers helping you relax your muscles by pushing his fingers in and out of you. he takes the larger glass plug and again warms it up in his hand a bit, before applying lube to it.

“are you ready baby?” he asks, before proceeding further.

“i am”

“alright” he says, placing the rounded tip to your hole, and firmly pushing the toy into place in one move. the stretch from the plug is making you pant, you have taken the larger size before but you are unsure if you'll ever get used to it. to ease the burning feeling, lando softly runs his lubed fingers around your stretched out hole, making you moan in the process.

he removes his hands from you, and grabs the smaller plug with him to the bathroom where he cleans and dries the toy, alongside his hands. returning to the bedroom he places the small plug back in its original place, in the nightstand.

“can we cuddle like before until carlos comes?” you question, giving lando the puppy eyes.

“of course we can” he exclaims, while pulling you closer to him, “do you want to nap a bit more?”

“maybe” you answer with a yawn, nuzzling your head into the side of lando's neck.

“you go and do that baby” he speaks, while lightly dragging his fingers along your spine, lulling you into sleep.

time skip

you feel lando shuffle and move away from you, making you let out a groan of displeasure at the loss of contact.

in your half asleep state, you hear the furniture move, it sounds like someone has moved the ottoman from the end of the bed to somewhere else in the room, but still so tired you don't question anything.

once the shuffling subsides, you feel the bed dip behind you, finally lando is coming back to cuddle, you think to yourself. but you don't smell lando's cologne, nor do you feel his hands tenderly move along your spine, these palms felt larger and more plush.

“wake up cariño" carlos' whispers against your ear, making you smile and turn around to face him, sleep long gone from your mind.

“you are finally here” you say with a laugh, making carlos' smile back.

“oke lovebirds, can we start now” lando speaks impatiently, his jealousy getting worse by the second.

“lando relax, we don't want anyone getting hurt” carlos says, while getting up from the bed and offering you a helping hand, which you gladly take.

you finally notice where the ottoman was moved to, they have moved it to the front of your full length mirror.

“come cariño, sit down” the spaniard demands motioning to the space between the two men. without question, you sit yourself down, looking between the two, unsure as to who will start first.

“cariño, is this something you want to do?”

“yes”

“will you tell us to stop if it gets too much?”

“i will, i promise”

and with the conformation you have given carlos, he moves his arms to your neck, giving it a bit of a squeeze, just enough to pull you into a kiss. lando, from behind you, pulls one of your legs over the ottoman, so now you're straddling the piece of furniture.

“come baby, let me take of your shirt” the brit speaks. only then do you break the kiss with carlos, so lando can rid you of your final article of clothing.

making carlos moan “fuck cariño they are beautiful”.

“thank you” you smile, leaning towards him so you can continue the kiss.

“too bad they are mine” lando states, while running his hands from your hips to your breasts where he gives them a rough squeeze, making you groan into the kiss. firmly he pulls you away, bringing one hand to your face so he can make you face him, and roughly connecting his lips to yours, glaring at the other man.

“lando, you lost, you shouldn't have wagered something so precious” carlos teases, now moving one of his arms below your legs, and the other to your waist, lightly lifting you, and pulling you into his chest, making you whine at the loss of contact between your and your lovers lips.

“look at me cariño”.

giving him the best puppy eyes you mumble “yes”.

“did lando prep you?”

“he did”.

“well than, turn around let me see it” without hesitation your back to him, and lay yourself on your front, never breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. making lando shudder, and carlos groan as soon as he realizes you still have the toy in you.

“can i remove it cariño?”

“yes please” you answer to carlos, never breaking the eye contact with lando, with one hand you motion for him to move closer, which he obliges. gently, while carlos is working the plug out, you move your hands along lando's legs all up to his boxer, where you move them and let his cock spring free, making his breath hitch.

still keeping eye contact, you lightly kiss his cock, from the bottom to the top, making sure to give more attention to his slit. once he moves his hand to grab your hair, you take him fully with one swift motion, making him moan out your name, and tighten the grip on your hair.

meanwhile carlos, with a firm hand, is massaging your ass hoping that you'll be ready for him, carefully he moves a hand to the toy still in you, and starts taking it out, the motion not causing any issues, which he could tell by your continuous head bobbing.

the spaniard stops for a moment, he places the toy gently on the floor, and applies lube to his cock. carefully, like you are made from glass, one hand grabs onto your neck and the other he snakes around your middle, making you stop, before he pulls you up into him.

“come cariño, sit down on me” he orders. and you move up a bit, allowing him to line up to your hole, and slowly you start sinking yourself down on him, making you both groan in pleasure.

once again, you motion to your boyfriend to move closer, thinking nothing of it he kisses you, “no lando” you cry, “i need you in me”, the statement making lando inhale sharply.

“are you sure baby?”

“please” you cry out in desperation, so he obliged, he moves closer waiting for you to lift your hips again a bit, moving your hands to his shoulders, and his alongside carlos to your waist, for you to feel a sense of security. he connects your lips carefully, gently prying one of his hands from your waist to his cock, so he can line himself up, where he enters with one swift movement.

the pleasure of having both of your holes filled makes you let out a breathy moan, dropping your head onto lando's shoulder.

“no, no cariño” carlos complaints, before he reaches for your jaw and turns your head to face the mirror, “you will watch us fuck you”.

and with that both men start moving in unison. you can feel them rubbing against each other, each hitting their respective spot, pulling one moan from you after another. lando brings one of his hands from your waist, to your clit, circling it. carlos, following the younger mans lead, brings one palm to your boobs, lightly tugging and twisting your nipple, his other hand never leaving your jaw, not allowing you to miss a single moment.

with the combined pleasure of both men thrusting in you, lando playing with your clit and carlos with your boobs, you quickly reach your limit, gripping landos shoulders so hard you leave nailmarks in his skin, and let the orgasm wash over you, the guys soon following behind, finishing in you.

once all of you have caught your breath, lando and carlos pull out, making you cry out. your boyfriend gently removes carlos' hands from your body, and wraps his, under your legs, where he carries you to your shared bed, gently laying you down on it and tucking you in.

“carlos it's time to leave” the brit speaks, while throwing carlos' clothing back to him, rushing him to dress and leave.

as soon as the spaniard leaves, or more so gets kicked out by your boyfriend, you hear lando rushing over to you, dropping into bed next to you, hastily wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face in your back, “i'm never wagering you again”, he promises making you laugh.

[auroreliis]

Pfff-imagine Bruce overhears the sibs threatening to not let batsib do the things he’s forbid them from doing if they keep tattling and Bruce just goes, you can do those things if you keep tattling, now there’s nothing stopping batsib

Lmaooooo

He's choosing to become your best friend instead of letting your siblings become your best friends. What would this result in?

Well for starters, you and Bruce would be very close. You'd likely go to fancy restaurants together and go outside very often, just the two of you, none of your siblings are there to bother you (or him lol).

"Good morning, angel. Are you feeling well? I rented an amusement park, since I heard you talking about it yesterday, so I wanted to know if you had enough energy to go there with me today after breakfast. Hm? Oh, yes. We can stay the whole day."

"You think Titus is cute? Well, in that case, do you want to go walk him with me? He is very well trained. I don't even need a leash for him. You should see for yourself."

"Now that we've had dinner...do you remember the film trailer you were talking about recently? Well, I recieved the film early. Do you want to watch it with me? Yes, it'll be just you and me, the others are going to be busy on patrol."

Your relationship with the others would deteriorate. They would be more harsh and probably even more annoying. However, since you're Bruce's perfect angel, he will let you get away with everything. Don't want Jason to keep bothering you? Bruce will tell him off. Dick wants to sleep in your bed? No worries, just sleep in Bruce's. Stephanie doesn't let you play video games unless you play with her? No worries, Bruce ordered you a new console and lots of new games.

"What? Dick is annoying you again? Fine, I'll tell him to tone it down."

"Damian is being too harsh? I'll let him know."

"You think Cassandra should stop sneaking up on you? Yes, I agree. She will be informed."

He doesn't want you to hate them, but little does he know that you do hate them and are using him to get them to stop. Being close to you makes him proud and happy, but he still thinks that you should interract with your siblings, so he might organise certain bonding activities. However, if you had talked to him and told him how the others made you feel bad or uncomfortable, he would keep an eye on them and would break the bonding activities off at that instant.

He's just trying to be a good father, okay? Don't be too harsh on him <3

[velvetures]

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2

Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.

Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.

Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.

The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.

Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.

The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.

But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.

Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.

It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.

“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.

Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.

She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.

It doesn’t work; it never does.

***

After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.

In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 

Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.

He doesn’t even own any candles.

       Eddie – 

       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.

       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.

       Sorry, that might be too much.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)

Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.

“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.

But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.

“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.

Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.

He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.

He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.

He wants.

But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?

*** 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”

Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.

Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.

“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.

Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”

The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.

Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.

He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.

“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”

Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.

“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.

No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.

Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.

         Secret Admirer,

         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.

         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?

         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.

         Sincerely,

         Eddie

         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.

“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.

“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.

“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”

Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”

All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.

“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”

PART 4

[kokonoiis]

gentle lover── pt. 02 ❝ his favorite place to kiss you ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. r. ken, s. manjiro, b. keisuke, h. kazutora, m. takashi, s. haruchiyo Ⅱ. blurbs Ⅲ. tw. slight angst in sanzu's, and also slight mention of obsession in sanzu's. Ⅳ. a/n. second round lets fucking goooooo !! writing another round of guys because i know everyone deserves to be softly loved by their faves

── ryuguji ken. forehead taking care of people comes naturally to ken, everyone already knew that long before it was ever said out loud. he likes knowing that you've eaten three square meals a day, and that you were going to sleep on time and waking up early enough that you had time to lounge around before you really had to do anything. he liked to cook for you and take care of you, often doing your hair in any way that you were feeling that day, knowing intimate things about you without you ever needing to speak up and tell him. he just knew you, heart and soul. the surprising tenderness of a man like him especially shows when he's getting ready to leave for work that day, his fingers finding their way to your chin to tilt your head up as he kissed your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than truly necessary before pulling away. he'd let you worry over his appearance, straightening his collar and smoothing over his outfit. he'd tell you not to miss him too much as he goes out, and that he'll be home before you know it. he'll be thinking of your kiss throughout the entire day.

── sano manjiro. shoulder as much as mikey pretends he's strong as tough, he loves being in your arms. he loves being near you, able to touch your skin, feeling your warmth against his body. it's what brings him peace at night, and what calms him down when he needs a moment just to be human. he loves knowing you're safe, right there in his arms, and he's safe in yours. he doesn't have to worry about much, doesn't have to put on a brave front. he can just simply be mikey, a much softer person than people liked to give him credit for. and that softness is present when he snuggles into your body to press little kisses all along your shoulder, feeling the softness of your skin underneath his lips. sometimes he would stop kissing and just rest his forehead against your shoulder, breathing softly and just taking in the tranquility of the situation. you made him feel safe, and cared for, with your arms around his frame, holding him close to you like you never wanted to let him go. mikey could stay in your embrace forever, just like this for as long as you'd let him be.

── baji keisuke. lips keisuke is not a man who just waits for what he wants, he takes it whenever he feels the need. and that includes kissing you. he doesn't play around, not when he wants your lips on his, although he's always being told that he shouldn't be quite so... much with it. the way keisuke is much like his personality - fiery, strong, passionate. he kisses you like he's never going to be able to kiss you again and he doesn't want to regret his final kiss. even in front of others, he kisses you with the same passion, proudly proclaiming his love in front of anyone around. he doesn't shy away from the thought of people knowing you're his, and he's yours in turn. you mean so much to him that he couldn't possibly deny you of any type of kisses you wanted, but he loves the feeling of your lips on his, kissing him back even if he took you off guard with his kiss. you'll be able to feel him smile into this kiss as his hand finds your chin to steady you, keeping you there for a moment longer as he enjoyed himself. and when he does pull away, he pecks you one more time on your lips, just for good measure.

── hanemiya kazutora. jawline no matter how many times kazutora tries to tell you otherwise, he's impulsive. all the time, he does things without thinking much about it, whether its silly little blunders to accidentally creating a bigger problem that the two of you are going to have to tackle together, and that includes how he loves on you, too. he kisses you without having a direct goal in mind, he just wants to cover you in as many kisses as you'll let him before the two of you have to get on with life. he loves kissing your face, letting you know that you're loved everywhere, always mumbling something under his breath about how attractive he really found you with his hands in your hair. he'll kiss your jawline right underneath your ear, cuz he's able to feel the muscles in your face as you smile and giggle about his cute little ministrations. from there, he can choose where to kiss you depending on his mood. he could kiss lower down your neck until he gets to the crest of your neck, or he could kiss higher up until he reached your lips, it really just depends, but he always starts right there, and had no intention of changing that.

── mitsuya takashi. nose mitsuya really doesn't mean too, but sometimes he finds himself babying you just a little bit. he does enjoy taking care of people, but he also knows that people need to be independent and walk on their own sometimes, too. while he's more than willing to help you out with anything that you could possibly need of him, sometimes he realizes that he could treat you as if you weren't able to do it yourself. of course, he catches himself from doing this any time it starts, and his way of apologizing is always the same. a sincere sorry, saying that he knows you're more than capable of doing this on your own, but he's always there to help you if you need it, and then he presses his nose against yours in a little symbol of his affection for you, before moving away and giving the tip of your nose a little kiss, his hands holding both sides of your face in a loving embrace. it never fails to make you scrunch your nose and giggle a little bit, which is exactly what he was looking for. he loves making you happy, loves knowing that you trust him so much to have him by your side, and he'd kiss you as many times as you'd let him.

── sanzu haruchiyo. wrist knowing that you were alive and okay was everything to sanzu. he needed to know every day that the heart inside of your chest still beat. it wasn't incredibly obsessive, it was just him worrying. he worried that someday he might lose you, or that something bad might happen, even when life was good and calm. always being on alert, several times throughout the day, he would take your hand lovingly, turn it over, and gently press a kiss against your wrist. it was just a cute habit of his to you, but to him, he loved that he could still feel your pulse steadily beating, and especially when it starts to race a little bit for him. there, he would trail up his kisses from your pulse to your arm, depending on whether or not you had the time, until he got to your shoulder, and then your neck, until his lips rested against yours, and his body heat had invaded yours, holding you as close as possible with his fingers now laced in yours. kissing you like this meant the world to him. it let him know that you were safe and healthy in his arms, and that you were still as in love with him as he was with you. and to him, that was everything.

──kokonoiis 2024

[fleurriee]

oh my god i need a-z alphabet of aemond or whatever it is. foaming at the mouth for this man fr

inspired by @moralesluvr & their a-z

again, more than likely ooc aemond but aren't most fics of him??

this was written over a period of months at sporadic times & i haven't read it through so...

affection — how affection are they? do they show affection?

aemond is not an affection person - i mean, do you know how he was brought up? the only affection he's ever really been shown is when his mother stood up for him that night he lost his eye. so, it's definitely safe to say that affection & aemond do not go together. until he met you, at least.

you're not overly affectionate yourself, but there were certain things you'd do that would make him tense up a little - like, stroking his arm, touching his hand, giving him little compliments, etc. at first, when you'd do these to him, he'd want nothing more than to run away and forget it ever happened... but, the more you did it, the more he got used to it, and the more he craved it.

of course, when you finally get to a point in your relationship where aemond started showing affection back to you, he would only ever do so in the privacy of your chambers, when only those in view were the two of you. it wasn't that he was worried he would come across as weak - he didn't want people to know you were his upmost weakness.

eventually, too, both his mother and heleana are allowed to see these little special moments between the two of you, but that’s all.

bye — what do they do when they need to leave? how are they feeling?

aemond is a busy man, especially when his older brother takes the throne. so, more often than not, the two of you need to part, which is something he hates. he hates not knowing where you’ll be, what you’ll be doing, who you’ll be with ��� and it’s not a possessive thing, it’s a worried thing. he always worries something bad might happen to you, someone might do something to get back at him.

the first thing he does is reassure you that he’ll back as soon as he possibly can, worded in a way that doesn’t allow him to promise that he won’t be long, because he knows he will be. he takes your face in his hands when he utters these promises to you, looking straight at your eyes so you can see the sincerity. he places gentle kisses all across your face, smiling a little to himself when he hears your giggles. that sounds alone is enough for him to go on.

cuddles — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

aemond cuddles in a way that keeps you safe. when you’re in bed, he’ll lie on his back with you lay right next to him, arm draped on his front whilst his goes behind your head. he likes to way he can play with your hair between his fingers, combing it through and soothing you; he likes that he can feel you moving with his every breath as you lay upon his chest. it constantly reminds him that you’re there, that you’re real.

there’s also the times when the two of you have a somewhat free day, spending it together in the silence of your chambers reading your separate books. more often than not, you’re sat apart, trying to concentrate, but then there’s the moments when aemond just needs you that little bit closer. he’ll be sat in his chair, unable to focus with his mind constantly drifting back to you, so he gestures you over. the position isn’t exactly a completely comfortable one, but you’re close, and that’s all you care about. you’ll be sat on his lap, both arms around your middle as he carries on reading, you head on his shoulder. it just makes the silence all the more beautiful for him.

domestic — how domestic are they? do they want to settle down?

aemond can come across quite domestic, but maybe that’s just because he knows eventually, the two of you will have no choice but to be so. and, he tries, at least more than his brother did with heleana. it’s always the little things — holding your hand in a gentle grip when leaving a carriage, making sure you don’t lose your step; pulling out the chair for you and pushing you back in at feasts.

like i said, it’s his duty, so he knows he wants to settle down. but, there was a time when he never thought he would because he couldn’t find anyone who would want to settle down with him, something he attributed to his missing eye. and then, he met you, and you didn’t care he had something missing. in that moment, he knew he was ready to finally begin his duties.

equal — how much effort do they put into the relationship?

aemond likes to give back as much to you as he can possibly try. of course, at first, he didn’t know how to properly do what you do to him — how is it that you’re able to make him blush when he’s never done so before; how is it that you’re capable of causing his heart to beat at rapid pulses?

aemond simply wanted to make you feel as loved as you made him feel. what type of husband would he be if he couldn’t do that for his very own wife? so, until he could finally figure out what got your heart racing, he’s definitely thinking of different ways to make you fall more impossibly in love with him.

fiancé — how are they in an engagement?

when aemond finally warms up to the idea of possibly being in a marriage alliance that could make him happy, he somehow turns it into the perfect betrothal.

he makes sure to spend as much time with you as he possibly can whenever he’s free, learning all your likes and dislikes, what your favourite hobbies are, etc. not only does he want to know everything he can about you, but it also helps to know how to best make you smile.

if he learns that you like to read, best believe he’s spending time with you in the library, the both of you talking about your favourite books; if you like to embroider, he’s definitely asking heleana if you can join her, making even sitting in silence with you as you converse with his sister.

aemond wants to make your life as easy as he can, and he knows that by reassuring you during your engagement that you’ll be safe and even potentially happy with him is just the first step.

gentle — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

how is it that aemond can be both gentle and aggressive? to anyone looking in from the outside, he’s a rock, as hard as stone and the only expression you’ll find on his face is a smirk. he’s willing to prove himself to anyone — show how much of a warrior he is now that he’s practiced almost as much as he’s breathed.

but to you, behind the privacy of your chamber doors? it’s almost like he’s trying to handle a butterfly. he’s so nervous that maybe his rough, calloused hands will be too harsh on you, that his attempt at a smile might look a little too like a smirk. but, he tries, and that’s all you can ask of him.

hugs — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

aemond is not a hugger. he finds it almost too intimate, too uncomfortable. when you first tried to hug him, all he felt was tense and stiff. none of it felt right.

now, he’ll give in to a hug on certain occasions, like when you’re upset — especially when you’re upset. the moment he sees your teary eyes and quivering lips, he’s instantly wrapping you in his embrace, forgetting all about the fact that on a normal day, he’d hate it. but, he knows you need comforting, and he’s willingly to do just about anything to make you feel better.

aemond’s hugs, despite not being used to them, feel like a protective circle, more so when you’re in need of comforting and he’s using the tightest grip he has on you. it’s like he needs you to know that he’s there, that he’s close by, that his body is always going to be entwined with yours.

i love you — how fast do they say the words?

it takes aemond forever — i’m talking years. again, though, can you really blame him when he’s not even sure what love actually is? he wasn’t shown barely even a smidge growing up — how’s he supposed to know that’s what he’s feeling every time he looks at you?

but, even when he finally figures it out, you best believe he’s keeping that secret to himself for a while longer. the idea of you not feeling the same way, of you feeling repulsed, of you laughing at his face for even thinking such a way is such a terrifying thought for him, he’d be to worried to ever confess.

when he eventually does, however, he’s not even aware he’s saying the words until his mind fully focuses on the expression you’re giving him. the two of you were in bed, you lay on top of him, your finger mindlessly running circles on his chest after spending your time intimately together. you were telling him about your day, how happy you’d been to spend it with heleana and how she always manages to make you feel young again, when the words just flew through him mouth.

needless to say, after that moment and the way you so lovingly reacted to it, aemond loves to whisper it in your ear.

jealousy — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

aemond doesn’t like to admit, but he gets jealous more often than not. he’s fallen far and hard, and the idea of you ever falling for someone else, or someone trying to, it scares him.

he keeps his cool as best as he can, clenching both his jaw and his fists, hoping that the lord who offered you to dance at the feast won’t try to pull anything that will make him want to break his neck.

and, he’ll just stew in his jealousy until the whole things over. he’ll never take it out on you, because he knows you couldn’t exactly say no when a lord asks you to dance. and, he knows he’ll never have to courage to do what they can — he can’t dance with you in front of everybody, but he sure as hell can when your in your chambers, and you’re always there to reassure him that you’d take him over any lord for the rest of your life.

kisses — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

for the longest time, aemond’s kisses are just pecks, and only across the back of your hand. when he started to get bolder the closer your relationship became, he’d peck your cheeks, your forehead. he was scared when he first kissed your lips, again just a peck, but after that first time, his hands cupping your face in such an intimate way, he couldn’t help himself. his kisses are still soft, but there’s a greediness to it, one that shows how starving he is for more of you.

aemond fucking loves it when you kiss his scar — he’s never felt so much love in his entire life. the way you never try to pressure him to take the patch off, your thumbs stroking soothingly against the white mark before placing such a gentle caress of a kiss against it? god, he’d do anything for you when you do that to him.

little ones — how are they around children? how many do they want?

aemond isn’t the best around children, never really know how best to act, or what to say, or worried he might come across as some monster just from the sight of him alone. but, when heleana had the twins, something in him changed. he cared for them unconditionally, allowing them to pull on his hair and climb on him just because they were bored. being an uncle made him realise that maybe one day he could do the same with his own children.

he would want as many kids as you would allow him — he’d definitely want to be the next jaehaerys when it comes to all his heirs. he couldn’t think of anything better than having a big family with you, uncaring as to whether they were all boys, all girls or a mixture of both. aemond would want boys for the longest time, teach to be fierce warriors and have them protect your family, but as the time got closer, he’d secretly start wanting a girl, who he’d raise the same and love all the more.

morning — how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with aemond are rare. more often than not, he’s unfortunately called for some business or counsel meeting he really couldn’t be bothered for, having to leave your warm embrace for a cold welcome somewhere else.

but, on the rare occasions where he somehow managed both the old gods and the new to allow him a free morning, you spend it stuck against one another, allowing yourselves more time to sleep in.

night — how are nights spent with them?

nights with aemond are either spent with the two of you wrapped in bed, on the chairs by the fire — but, either way, the two of you are full of conversation. it can be spent with whatever you’ve done during that day, or how you’re thinking of spending the next one.

aemond always makes sure someone has your fire going and a bath reading before either of you arrive there. he likes it when you have baths together, facing the window as you just look out at the sky. you could be spending it in silence for all he cares, as long as it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t care.

open — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things slowly?

it would take aemond so long to open himself up to you, even when it came to the little things about him.

in order to do so, he felt as though he needed to know more about you first — about whether you would even be worthy of nothing all the ins and outs of him. and even then, when he finally understood you completely, it was nerve wracking for him, coming clean and being vulnerable with anyone.

aemond definitely took his time opening himself up, too, in the sense that he wouldn’t unload everything onto you at once. he would just subtly mention something he hadn’t told you before whenever it felt right in the middle of a conversation — and one thing he loved about you, was that you never made a big deal out of it. you just took the information in with a small smile on your face and carried on.

patience — how easily angered are they?

like i said before, this man gets jealous easy, and the same goes for his anger.

we all know what aemond is like and the shit he's been through, so is it really any surprise?

but he's good at hiding it - he does that smirk of his and his eyes narrow dangerously. to anyone else but you, they'd just think that was his resting expression.

however, when others take it just a little too far?? with you?? yeah, they're dead, the blood of the dragon comes out in him for sure.

he tries not to maim them too much for your sake, but he's definitely fed a few people to vhagar because they insulted you.

quizzes — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or forget everything?

aemond remembers everything.

he doesn't talk much; her prefers to listen, so he's very attentive with you. during your courting days, when you were getting to know one another more properly, he'd learned everything about you and made sure to keep it all locked within a little safe in his mind.

he'll remember all dates you consider important so he can do something special for you; he'll remember your favourite book so he can make sure you always have a spare with you; he'll remember your favourite flowers so he can spoil you rotten with them.

the list is simply endless with this man.

remember — what is their favourite memory of your relationship?

the day he finally revealed his sapphire to you.

it was one of his biggest worries; you'd not long been married, and you were getting along so well, he was terrified that the moment you laid eyes on it, you were going to run.

he couldn't stand the idea of you leaving him, of thinking him less than because of his scars.

but, it happened in the spur of a moment type of way - you'd wanted to see all of him for a while now but you didn't want to push him, and whilst the two of you were kissing heatedly in your rooms, one of your hands repeatedly got stuck between his eye patch and his hair. without even realising what he was doing, aemond took it off.

the silence was deafening as you gazed upon him, all of him, and aemond swore he could feel his heart in his throat.

all of that changed when you smiled at him as you always had done, filled with such love and admiration, and you carried on like nothing happened.

aemond knew from that moment on there was no other explanation other than you were put on this world just for him.

security — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

aemond targaryen? protective? they're basically synonyms.

fr though, all aemond is thinking about is where you are and whether you're safe, but not in an overbearing, possessive way. he just knows that you're his biggest weakness, and it's probably painfully obvious to everyone else.

when you're apart, aemond always makes sure you have at least 3 of his most trusted guards with you at all times, even if you're only spending the day in the library.

when you're together, aemond's protective in the little ways. it's important to him that you're always on his good side, allowing him to see where you are and who else is nearby in case they try anything; if you're a little bit in front of him, he'll have his hand on the small of your back, for his sake more than yours, but if you're standing next to one another, he asks you to put his arm through his, the comfort of your presence giving him ease.

aemond knows you're not an overly protective person, but he absolutely adores it when you stand up for him, defending his honour when you hear someone slander him, be it for his looks or his demeanour. he loves how angry and protective you get over him, and he wouldn't want you to do anymore than that.

try — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?

aemond's a 50/50 guy when it comes to stuff like this.

you mean a lot to him, and he'll do almost anything to put a smile on your face, so long as it's just between the two of you.

he won't want to do anything too extravagant or adventurous; the most it's gone has been when he took you flying on vhager for the first time.

he likes to keep it kind of low key. he make sure you have several bouquets of your favourite flowers in your rooms for you; the cooks have prepared your favourite breakfast, dinner and deserts; and he'll make sure he spends the entire day with you, clearing off anything else he needs to do and shoving it away for another day.

ugly — what are some bad habits of theirs?

aemond is big on silent treatment.

he didn't talk about any of his feelings when he was younger, and unfortunately, it's something he ended up taking with him as he grew older.

you know he tries his absolute hardest to not give you the silent treatment, but when it's been engrained within your brain your entire life, it's easier said than done. he knows you hate it, and it's something he's definitely trying to work on for you.

another thing would be his anger towards others. with you, he never gets angry, because how could he ever get angry at his sweet little wife? but with others, he's brutal.

it's another thing you hate when he does, the way he so callously beats and maims others for something you wouldn't think deserve such a punishment.

vanity — how concerned are they with their looks?

aemond's not exactly concerned, but he is cautious.

when he looks at you, all he sees are the stars in your eyes and the goddess far above within your features. and standing next to him, he knows it has to be such a sight.

he's always been one to take care of his hair - it's just his eye.

he doesn't like the way it stands out so brutishly against your shining figure, dark and cruel.

of course, the start to changing his way of thinking happens after he reveals his eye to you, and he realises that it only matters what you think, no one else.

whole — would they feel incomplete without you?

oh, yes.

beforehand, aemond never wanted a wife, he never wanted a family, he just simply wanted to protect his family like the dutiful son he was.

but once you've fallen into his dark embrace and he's finally gotten a taste of what marriage life is supposed to be like, aemond can't imagine anything any other way.

xtra — a random headcannon for them!!

aemond loves it when you take care/pamper him.

it's something he struggled to admit to himself, let alone to you, but once you're past that barrier, it's one of the things he looks forward to at the end of his day.

you'll have a bath prepared for him, dismissing the maids because no one takes care of him like you do, and you'll help wash him sensually, cleaning his hair and massaging his shoulder of all the knots built up.

he loves it when you play with his hair - washing it, brushing it, stroking it, you name it.

it just makes aemond feel so loved.

yuck — what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?

when your courting started, one of the most important things to aemond was that you got on with his sister, heleana.

he wasn't entirely bothered if you didn't get on with his mother because he knows she can be intimidating sometimes, and he definitely didn't care when it came to aegon.

but with heleana, he needed it to happen.

for aemond, it spoke a lot about the other person. if they didn't like heleana, for whatever excuse they may come up with, there had to be something wrong with him, they had to have been a bad person somewhere inside.

definitely off-putting for him.

zzz — what are their sleep habits?

he's a light sleeper in every sense.

he feels the wind coming through the open window? he's awake. he hears a rustle from outside his doors? he's awake. he feels you move slightly against him in your sleep? he's awake.

aemond is never really fully asleep, but it does get better once you start to sleep next to him.

he's always made sure you sleep the furthest away from the door, a habit he'll never get rid of for your safety.

he likes to have you as close to him as possible, wanting to feel your skin against his own for his comfort, no matter if it's the hottest summer known to man.

[fandsart]

Steve and Nancy's relationship didn't work out because they had different wants and needs so when Steve starts dating Eddie he tries really hard not to have wants and needs of his own. Knowing that Eddie didn't reschedule Hellfire for Lucas doesn't help with this.

He goes to a few metal concerts even though he always gets migraines the next day from the volume, he lets Eddie talks about all kinds of nerd stuff even if it makes him feel stupid when he can't keep up.

It's not even like he's dragging Steve into things that are actively detrimental to him all that often. Just a couple activities things a week. But Steve also feels the need to hide some of his own interests, knowing that Eddie hates them.

Not that he doesn't love being around Eddie, but now that they're dating he's hardly not around, and it's hard to find time to keep up on the teams that Steve roots for. But it's... it's fine. He's happy with Eddie, so he can make the sacrifice to hide these parts of himself. It's fine.

Eddie doesn't realize this is going on because he's aware that he's pushing Steve out of his comfort zone, what he isn't aware of is how Steve far out of his comfort zone he really is, and how he doesn't want to bother Eddie with it, afraid they'll break up over it.

Then he slips up, just a little bit, when Eddie invites him to a concert on the same day he plans on watching a game. This isn't even the first time this has happened, but Eddie usually gives him more of a heads up for this kind of thing. He thought he was close enough to the date that he wouldn't have to worry about it getting disrupted, and it was a pretty big game, so his disappointment is higher than usual.

Eddie is talking about a metal band and is going on a small ramble explaining the context of where they sit in the metal scene.

"And they have a concert in Indy tomorrow," he grins, "and I really want to take you."

"Oh, I was gonna... Yeah, we can do that."

"You were gonna what?"

"It doesn't matter. It's stupid."

"Steve, it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm taking you to a Dio concert. These guys are actually pretty small and relatively local. I'm sure we could catch another one, it would just be kind of down the road."

"Eddie it's fine. We can go to your concert. Whatever you want."

Eddie gives him a look. "I don't want it to be 'my concert.' If you wouldn't enjoy it, I wouldn't want to just be dragging you with me. And I don't want it to be 'fine' I want it to be enjoyable!"

"I enjoy spending time with you."

"Ok, so what were you going to do tomorrow?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does!"

They're fighting and this was exactly what Steve was worried about. If Steve could have just gotten over himself, cut the bullshit, they wouldn't be fighting right now.

"Eddie, it really doesn't. Can we just go to the concert and forget about this?"

"No. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

"If I don't go, will you go without me?"

"Unless you don't want me to."

"I want to go with you, wherever."

"Ok, you know what, I just remembered I actually have to help Wayne with something on tomorrow."

"No you don't. Look, I wasn't gonna do anything. Can we please just go to this concert you want to go to?"

"Look, I have to go to school. I'm already over 2 hours late." With that, he's out the door.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve's not sure what time the concert was even meant to be at, but if he could just get a hold of Eddie and convince him he wants to go, maybe they won't miss it. It's already fairly well into the afternoon and he hasn't heard from Eddie all day.

The first few times he calls, there's no answer, but when he finally gets an answer it's Wayne that picks up.

"You almost missed me," he says. "Make it quick, I gotta to get to work."

"Is Eddie there?"

"Nah, he should be in Indy by now. Did he not tell you? There's some concert down there."

"Yeah, I, uh... Thank you Mr. Munson."

So Eddie went by himself even though Steve told him he wanted to come, and he'd pretended that he didn't even want to go.

Steve watches his game that night, kind of miserable and guilty. He debated not watching it, almost as a point of honor, since he lied to Eddie and told him that he didn't really have anything planned today. They'd both lied about their plans last night and Steve is so ready for Eddie to come back and say that he had a much better time without Steve and it's time they go they're separate ways.

His team loses and he falls asleep on the couch soon after, the tv still playing in the background.

He wakes up in the morning to a knock at the door. Eddie stands on the other side.

"Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"

"Um... yeah." He wants to bring up what happened yesterday, that Eddie went without him, but he's afraid it will just make things worse. He obviously wanted to go without him if he did so, and bringing it up might just start an argument about how Eddie doesn't need Steve's permission to do things (and he doesn't) reinforcing why he didn't want Steve to come in the first place. He wants to stay with Eddie forever and he's worried the relationship is starting to fall apart. "It's fine. I should be up by now anyway."

Eddie hums almost suspiciously. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He moves out of the way.

"'Whatever I want,' huh?" he asks, as he walks through the doorway.

"What?"

"Nothing. We'll talk about it in a minute. A few things first. Come on." He drags Steve over to the couch. "So what did you do yesterday?"

"Tried getting a hold of you, mostly."

Eddie chuckles nervously. "Sorry. But did you do whatever it was you planned on doing before?" Steve tenses just a little bit. Is Eddie going to accuse him of choosing baseball over their relationship? He kind of almost did when he first opened his mouth after Eddie first suggest the concert. Is he going to call him out for that. "Relax baby, you don't even need to tell me what it was, as long as whatever it was you were doing wasn't a person."

"No, never!"

"I know, Stevie. I know you're history; I know you would never do that. So I'm not upset. So did you carry out your plans, whatever they were?"

"Yeah. It was disappointing."

"Well, I'm glad you did what you wanted anyway. And since you were busy and couldn't come to the concert, I went and brought you back a tape." He pulls a cassette tape out of his pocket. "You obviously weren't going to admit you didn't want to go, but I still wanted to share this with you, so here. This is yours."

Eddie's more attentive to when Steve seems hesitant to do something after that. Eventually Steve gets comfortable enough to bring up where his reservations stand regarding a lot of these things. Eddie switches up how he talks about his interests, trying to make it more coherent and gets Steve earplugs for concerts. He encourages Steve to talk about his own interests, even when Eddie doesn't fully get the appeal himself. He can go a little outside of his comfort zone too. For Steve, it's always worth it.

[cameronspecial]

At Her Beck And Call

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Assault

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe may be out doing business, but he is never too busy for Y/N.

Masterlist

Everyone in the Outer Banks knows about Rafe’s explosive personality, especially towards the Pogues. The only person who is never at the wrong end of his anger is Y/N. He would never dare risk losing her by unleashing his anger on her. At the moment, she is safely at home, resting with their darling baby girl growing inside of her stomach. He is finishing up collecting the money from people who owe him from his drug dealer days. When he started dating Y/N, he stopped dealing less often; however, with a baby on the way, Rafe is ready to hang up the towel completely. Therefore, it is time for him to gather all the debts obligated to him. He finally tracks down the last person, Tanner Barrois. The Pogue is hiding out at a friend’s house but for enough money, anyone can betray their friend. Rafe bangs on the door as loud as he can and steps away from it. “What the fuck do you wan-” Tanner complains as he opens the door. Rafe gives him a wicked grin, “I want my fucking money, Asshole.” Tanner backs up into the house with his hands in the air. “I don’t have your money, but I can get it to you. I-I just need a few weeks,” he offers. Rafe shakes his head, “No, I already gave you three months. So where is my money?”

“I don’t have it!” 

Rafe grips the front of Tanner’s shirt and slams him against the wall. His arm cocks, rushing towards Tanner’s nose at a fast pace. The room is silent, except for the sounds of Rafe’s fist hitting Tanner, until “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran begins to play out of nowhere. Something vibrating accompanies the song. Rafe keeps Tanner against the wall with one hand, while his other hand goes into his pocket for his phone. He brings it to his ear with a soft smile, “Hi, Dumpling. How are you and little dumpling doing?” “I’m hungry, Rafey,” the pregnant woman whines with her hands on her perturbing stomach. He chuckles, “And what can I pick up for you on my way home, Dumpling?” “I want Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream, soya sauce, pickles and mayo please,” she pleads into the phone. He grimaces, “Please, tell me you aren’t going to eat all of those together.” “I don’t know yet. I guess you’ll have to find out when you get here,” she teases, knowing he gets grossed out by her weird pregnancy cravings. He sighs, “I guess I will. I’ll get those for you once I’m finished with my business. Okay? I love you.” “Thank you. I love you too. Bye,” she hangs up without another word. 

The phone gets slipped back into his pocket and his attention returns to Tanner. “Now, where were we?” He punches Tanner again, shaking his hand out to try to rid himself of the blood. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my money?” Rafe growls. Tanner whimpers, “I can get it to you by next week.” Tanner receives another blow to the head. “Not the answer I was looking for. So let’s try this once more,” Rafe warns, but he is again interrupted by the chime of his phone. “Is everything okay, Dumpling?” he worries into the speaker.

“It needs to be the tiny pickles. I don’t want the large ones. I don’t want the zig-zag cut ones or the straight-cut ones. I want the tiny ones. Okay?”

“Yes, I know, Dumpling. I promise they will be the tiniest ones I can find.” 

“Good, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dumpling. Goodbye.”

Tanner’s face is in a bloody smirk. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” Rafe questions, digging his forearm into the Pogue's neck. Tanner gasps out, “You are so whipped for her.” Rafe’s eyebrows cave in and he strikes Tanner’s stomach. “Be careful what you say next, Motherfucker,” Rafe alerts. Tanner appears to have a death wish as he says the next sentence, “That bitch has your balls in a death grip and it’s pathetic.” His phone rings once more before he can reply. “Dumpling, you are really making me concerned about you,” he sighs into the phone. She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just wanted something to drink too.” “It’s okay, Dumpling. I want you to stay hydrated. So what can I get you?” he inquires. “Iced tea, please. And I promise this will be the last time I’m going to call. I’m going to take a nap while I wait for you to come home.”

“Iced tea, coming right up. Enjoy your nap, Dumpling. I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you so much, Rafey. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to come home. Muah.”

The line goes dead and he can’t help but put his phone away with a massive grin on his face. He weakens his hold on Tanner, “You better be thanking the lord that I am whipped for my girl because it is the only reason I am giving you another day to get the money. Don’t try to run because I will find you and your punishment will be so much worse than you can imagine. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go to Trader’s Joe.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Could you write about stan or Ford taking care of their sick s/o? I've been suffering from an awful head cold this past week and it sucks i could really use the comfort 😭

sick days with Stan & Ford (x reader)

a/n: starting with smth sfw while i work on… other things hehehhe but I hope you’ll feel better! take your meds and let yourself rest 💌 and thank u for the ask, anon!!

Stanford Pines

the kind of man who fights interdimensional monsters but still worries if your tea is the right temperature.

he tucks you onto the couch, fussing over pillows and blankets until you’re buried like some kind of marshmallow. then he disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear pots clanging and. . . is that the blender?

when he returns, he’s holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a strange concoction that’s vaguely green.

“head cold or not, you need fluids. hydration is important,” he says, setting a mug of something herbal-smelling on the coffee table. “this tea is from the forests of dimension 52. the locals swear by it for respiratory ailments.”

you squint at the mug. “it’s not gonna. . . mutate me, right?”

Ford pauses, adjusting his glasses. “probably not.”

“Ford!”

he chuckles, sitting beside you with a soft sigh. “it’s perfectly safe, i’ve tested it. besides, you trust me, don’t you?”

and of course you do, even when his idea of “helping” involves interdimensional remedies that could very well grow you a third arm.

you take a tentative sip. the taste is weird, but soothing, warming you from the inside out.

“good?” he asks, watching your face expression.

“yeah,” you admit, sinking deeper into the blanket. “not bad.”

satisfied or at least faking this, he leans back, but that little crinkle in his brow never really goes away.

“you’re overthinking again,” you notice, looking at him.

“i am not,” he says, entirely unconvincing.

“Ford.”

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just hate seeing you like this, i keep thinking there must be something more i can do.”

you reach out, tangling your fingers with his. “you’re doing enough, really, just stay with me, okay?”

Ford’s expression softens and he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“always.” and he stays, reading to you from one of his journals while you drift in and out of sleep. his voice is calm, comforting and every so often, he pauses to carefully check your temperature.

Stan Pines

you wake up with your throat feeling like sandpaper and your head pounding. you barely have the energy to groan, let alone drag yourself out of bed, but the world outside your room is loud. voices from the tv, Stan’s yelling at it.

with blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you stumble out and see Stan sprawled on the armchair in his striped boxers and tank top, he’s shoving popcorn into his mouth by the handful, but when he sees you, he nearly chokes on it.

“jeez, you look like somethin’ the cat dragged in. worse than waddles after he found that mud pit last week.”

you sniffle. “thanks for the pep talk, Stan.”

he waves you over as his tone softens. “c’mon, c’mere. what’s wrong? flu? cold? bubonic plague? don’t tell me you’re contagious.”

you plop next to him, dropping your head onto his shoulder. the tv’s too loud, but you can’t even complain about it.

“it’s just a cold,” you murmur. 

“cold, huh? well, that’s nothing to mess with,” you can hear the tease in his voice. “lemme get my doctor bag. got some snake oil in there that cures everything, even bad attitudes.”

he shuffles off to the kitchen, muttering about needing to find some ginger ale. he comes back with a mug of tea that looks. . . questionable. is that a bay leaf? and a handful of mints?

“drink this, kid, don’t ask questions.”

you sip and it’s awful. Stan grins as you make grimace. “told ya it’s magic. now, get cozy.”

he turns the tv down and drapes his old, scratchy afghan over you. you don’t know when it happens, maybe during some ridiculous commercial for glow-in-the-dark socks, but you fall asleep with your head still on his shoulder.

when you wake up, the tea’s gone, replaced by a cup of melted ice cream with a sticky spoon, meanwhile Stan is snoring loudly with his arm protectively thrown over you.

[mossyivy]

NSFW ALPHABET

[DI! Chris Redfield Edition]

❗Minors Do Not Interact❗

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Concerned is the best word to describe it. Chris would pull you to his chest, kiss your head and make sure you're okay. He's always scared of going too far or hurting you on accident. Would definitely be rubbing your back, giving you gentle reassuring kisses and telling you how much he loves you. Plays with your hair. You even take a bath together on occasion afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

On him, definitely his shoulders/chest. He's a big man and has spent years of his time building up a strong and intimidating appearance. Plus he loves how you stare at him when his chest flexes if he lifts something without his shirt on.

On you, your ass. Chris is an ass man and no one can tell me otherwise. That man is constantly smacking your ass as you do mundane things or just walking by. Probably gropes you while cooking when no one's paying attention.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside. This man has a breeding kink. Loves burying himself balls deep just to cum and watch it dribble out slowly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty thief. Whenever he's scheduled to leave you two always say goodbye with a quickie and he snatches your panties to take with him in one of his uniform pockets. He just likes having a little piece of you with him constantly, that's all.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Chris definitely fucks. Barely gets to enjoy the normalcies of life, like sex. Probably had a lot of flings in his 20s but once he met you he gets to use his collected talents on someone special.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Full Nelson. Hands down his absolute favorite position. He's got you at his full mercy. Holding you in place, making you bounce on his cock. All you can do is sit there and take it?? Chef's kiss~

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Usually not goofy but if there's a silly sound or something happens that isn't supposed to he'll definitely chuckle, reassure you with a smile and keep going.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed. Chris is a fucking bear of a man. Definitely very very hairy but trimmed not shaved.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Definitely very romantic. Always kind and carrying. Trying to be gentle unless the mood isn't called for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jerking off use to be second nature to him but now he barely ever does it. Only if he's away for extended periods of time or under some serious stress that even worries him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, Bondage, Dacryphilia, Daddy kink, Dirty talk, Somnophilia and body worship

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere private. Chris isn't picky when it comes to getting in your pants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Teasing and your body more than anything. Often he gets saucy texts or pictures from you and he's definitely coming to collect payment of your promises next time he sees you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Nothing with physical harm, no bathroom related kinks or blood play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

CHRIS IS A MUNCH! Absolutely WORSHIPS pussy any chance he gets!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Situational. Usually he likes taking his time but sometimes he just needs to be rough after a stressful mission or day.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Often has quickies. He's a busy man, but he has needs just like his partner.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Chris isn't above being risky. If he wants you badly enough he's finding the nearest quiet private place to get what he wants.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Chris is like a machine running on Energizer batteries. He can keep going until he's physically unable to...

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

For sure owns a wand, ropes, handcuffs and even a few blindfolds.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chris is a massive tease. But if you do it back to him you're in for a world of torture.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts a lot, curses under his breath and fairly quiet.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Currently teaching himself shibari. Desperately wants to put you in one of those pretty full body suspensions.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Chris is packing heat on him. He's a big man and carries himself as such. Above average, shower not a grower. The kind of dick that makes him unable to wear gray sweatpants.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High sex drive. Constantly wants to touch you all over and feel you under his finger tips.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He stays awake quite a while after sex. Mainly likes admiring you in the after glow of it all.

[songbirdseung]

dwba / yang jungwon

synopsis: you keep listening to the same song, making your boyfriend very concerned and worried that you are trying to say something, jungwon version for @laylasbunbunny

pairing: yang jungwon x reader, established relationship

warnings: a little angsty, crying, relationship troubles, hint of breakups

wc: 948

Everyone perceived you and Jungwon to be the picture-perfect couple, bound to last forever, and a match made in heaven. With the way you two handle issues and conflict maturely and go through life, hand in hand, side by side. It was weird for the rest of Enhypen to walk into the dorm, being met with a stressed Jungwon sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.

A week ago, you and Jungwon fell into a misunderstanding. Unlike solving it like you both usually do, this time; things were just to heavy and needed to be thought upon before making any decisions that you both might regret.

By doing so, in your self loathing time; you were indulging and basking in the moment that you don't get to experience so often, you play music to accompany you, alongside with your tears and dirty tissues.

"The lyrics are 'So, I take my time to self-soothe', not self loathing"

Placing down a new tissue box for you, your sister also offers a shoulder to cry on. The assumption that you had of you crying silently was wrong, since your sister told you how she could hear you sobbing from outside the house. An exaggeration just to hopefully get you to laugh.

While it did get you to chuckle, a few block down, your boyfriend was not.

Jungwon just got back from a busy day filled with dance practices, recordings, and content filming. But not having to be in contact with you for over a week, distracted his senses and or mind to even realize that his body was in total fatigue.

Now, sitting on the couch, regretting the decision to allow you both to sit this one out and to not fix it right away. Slumping on the couch, thinking why on earth did he agree that it was the right idea to let you out of his sight. Sluggishly reaching over to his bag and fetching out his phone to open the contacts, he's hesitant to call you.

After a few minutes, he still in the same position, has yet to call you or even get up to wash up and rest to repeat the same day tomorrow.

His thoughts were interrupted for a second when he heard the door open, but immediately went back to the depths of regret. His members slowly make their way inside, spotting the young one.

"Jungwon? you good?" Jake inquires as he steps closer to the couch, standing behind Jungwon, patting him on the head.

"Does he look good to you, idiot?" A chuckle follows after Jay replies to Jake's not so smart question. The rest follows pursuit except Jungwon. Once they realized that, they finally understood that this was serious. They all huddle up on the couch and try to talk some sense into their leader.

Soon later, with enough convincing, Jungwon is up and running to your place. Flowers in hand with your favorite snacks in a bag. Eventually with successfully saving himself from tripping over things, he's at your door, hopeful that he'll succeed again with fixing things with you.

He knocks on the door and your sister opens the door. She offers him a small smile, a hug with a good luck. Giving him a little more confidence that he needed. He makes his way upstairs to your room and from outside the door, he hears your sweet voice that he missed so much. He loves to hear you sing and he always jokes how you could steal his job. But this time, he isn't that pleased to hear you sing lyrics that are making him question that you hate him at this point.

He stands there, in denial. As he hears you sing the next song. He's thinking how the titles and message of the songs casually just goes along with the predicament you both are in with your relationship.

I don't wanna fuck with your head It's breaking my heart To keep breaking yours again

Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, he takes hold of the doorknob and slowly opens the door. Being met by your back facing him as you sit on your bed with your speaker blasting 'Don't Want to Break up Again' by Ariana Grande. You don't even notice the new presence in your room as you switch the song after it ended.

If the sun refused to shine Baby, would I still be your lover? Would you want me there?

Again, he loves you singing but as you sing along to the lyrics with tears streaming down your face, he's not the happiest guy right now.

"Yes, you'll always be my lover" finally mustered up the courage to interrupt your mini concert to your plushies. You wipe your eyes, making sure that you're not hallucinating and Jungwon was actually sitting down next to you. "Are your songs trying to tell me something?" He jokes while cleaning up your face, wiping away the tears that can't seem to stop from flowing out your eyes.

After calming down a little, you explain how you were just in your feels and wanted to sing the pain away. Jungwon nods but couldn't help to call you dramatic in a joking manner, no harm intended whatsoever. You nudge him and rebuttal.

"For a second there I thought you were gonna break up with me"

Taken a back, you start asking him why you would ever end the relationship that you loved being in for almost 2 years now. He replies with how your music choice is making uneasy.

"Oh, you don't listen to sad songs when you're sad?"

"No, cause Ni-ki would make fun of me"

[deathbxnny]

HEBUAWBIAHWUW HEY POOKIE!!!

Sorry I just love the open requests😍😍 ANYHOW!

I've been requesting too much romantic shit.... Sooo, I've got an unusual mixup of characters! Kinich, Neuvillette and Wanderer with child, fem! reader. (I'd like age for reader to be like, 9-11 or even a bit younger but you can play with whatever age you want based on the scenario!)

So, in Wanderer's scenario reader has to be like adopted, since he's a puppet and all.

But for Neuvi's scenario (sorry I can only see him as a girl dad) I think reader could easily be his biological child, kinda like Sigewinne (she's old but looks like a child so that could work). Being Neuvi's daughter EUGHHHHHH I would die for that

In Kinich's scenario reader can be his 'adopted' or biological little sister you can choose!!

(apologies if it's very specific but my cravings for fanfiction are like those weird pregnancy cravings women get)

Anyways, I hope you're doing great mootie! Unfortunately, I haven't been getting better at all... health wise, yeah I got better, but mental health wise? I think I'm just getting worse. But I hope all's going better for you!!! xoxo and flowers for u🪻🌼🌸

Genshin men with a Fem!Child!Reader. | Neuvillette, Kinich, Wanderer

Thank you sm for the cute request, dear moot!! I appreciate it a lot! Also, I completely get how you feel, as I've been feeling the exact same way. If you need someone to talk to, my dms are always open for all!!<33

Content: Child reader, platonic relationships, fluff, slight angst?, sfw

Reader is requested to be female!

((Not fully proofread))

》NEUVILLETTE

This man was elated when he first held you in his arms as a small infant. It was a rainy yet sunny day at the same time, his excitement showing in the tears he attempted so hard to hide. Deep down, Neuvillette felt his loneliness finally lift at your presence, glad to have someone in his life that he could cherish and love to his hearts content.

Therefore, it comes to no surprise that he spoiled you greatly with anything you wanted. He dressed you in frilly, lavish dresses, never sparing any expenses for your many fulfilled wishes. He arranged grand tea parties for you, never shying away from spending as much time as possible with you, despite his awfully busy schedule. It hurts his heart to be away from you for long periods of time, but he makes it up to you with sweets and gifts everytime.

Despite how much he spoils you, he also makes sure to instill a deep sense of justice into you. You are raised to seek truth and handle difficult situations with a righteous yet empathetic moral compass.

Seeing you advance and grow makes him prouder than you could ever imagine.

》KINICH

You were an orphan child he had taken in when you were just a very small baby. Growing up together, he often tried his best to provide you with everything he could, even with his rather difficult upbringing. At times, he worries that what he does isn't enough for you, but he tries his best to make you proud of him as an older brother and caretaker. You are what he fights for every day, and he keeps you in his heart during the annual tournament, especially.

He'll often also bring you trinkets and clothes back from his travels. He tries to spend a lot of time with you otherwise, too, like playing games or taking you out for some mildly adventurous walks.

Unfortunately for Kinich and you, Ajaw is ofcourse always there with you. He had initially banned any contact between you two until he noticed that the grand and allmighty dragon seemed rather docile around you at least. His goal was to make Kinich miserable after all... not you.

Either way, even when he worries that he isn't doing enough to give you the best life possible, it fills him with pride to see you beam up at him so happily. It makes all the hardships he goes through so worth it.

》WANDERER

He took you in mostly against his will at first. Your parents had abandoned you to pursue their academic dreams, and so you were, at the time, temporarily put into his care. He warmed up to you pretty fast, though, as your situation reminded him of his own. And something about that scared him deeply.

He knew that he wasn't the most ideal man, and his erased past very much highlighted that exact fact. But under Nahida's calming and wise guidance, he found himself reluctantly falling into fatherhood for your sake. It wasn't easy, and there were a lot of internal battles he still faces daily years later, that oftentimes can make you bump heads. But he does his best to provide you a good and better childhood than his own.

He tries to be loving, caring, and understanding, even if he doesn't know how to. Wanderer can be harsh and even very blunt, but he learned how to be patient and gentle through you. He spends a lot of time with you even whilst he's working around the Akademiya, often just dragging you along to make sure nothing happened to you in his absence.

He ultimately may not be the most greatest father out there... but he'll be damned if he didn't at least try to be for your sake. Just so that the cycle didn't repeat again.

[jakexneytiri]

Hi, I can request a family life with husband! neteyam x reader, after 2 movies, please long if you agree

hii!!

you sure can! this was so cute to write and i’m in love with dad!neteyam. i hope this is what you had in mind, anon!<3

forever & always

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

it’s been ten years since you and your husband first mated. neteyam was madly in love with you, that love only growing stronger over the years. he could never get enough of you, never keep his hands off of you. you have four children to prove it, and you’re pregnant with your fifth.

neteyam arranged an entire ceremony to be held tonight for your anniversary. the clan spent the entire day preparing, harvesting fruits, hanging bioluminescent plants for light, and gathering old twigs and dead plants to be used for the main fire.

in your hut, things were absolute chaos. you were waiting for neteyam to return home, he had “a few more things to set up” for the party. your children couldn’t contain themselves, excitedly running around your shared hut readying themselves for the evening.

your oldest, tsantu, you hardly ever had to worry about. he was very independent, and rarely asked for your assistance. he was all ready for the ceremony, wearing his special arm cuff he crafted, with neteyam’s help.

“mom, do you need help?”

“would you please help your brother with his necklace? that would be a big help.” you place a kiss on the top of his head, as he nods and goes to help his brother.

your second born, se’ayl, was calm and reserved like her older brother. however, she was sassy from time to time, with both you and neteyam. she definitely picked up the habit from aunt kiri, who she adored.

“se’ayl? do you have your feathers on yet?” you ask, glancing over at her.

“ugh, do i have to wear those?” she groans, taking a deep breath in just to sigh it out.

“yes, flower. your father wants everyone to wear them tonight. aunty kiri will be wearing hers, too.” you say in an excited tone, hoping it will cheer her up.

“really? she is??” excitement lights up on her face, as she quickly goes to change into them.

your third, txonuk, was your occasionally rebellious child, sometimes outspoken, making neteyam be the bad guy when he needed to be punished, but you loved him nonetheless.

“let’s see your necklace, txonuk!” you say excited, kneeling down to take a look.

he lifts his chin upwards, so you can get a good look at the newly placed necklace.

“what a very handsome young man you are.” you say, as he giggles.

“mama, i’m not a man, i’m just a boy!” he yells, waving his arms around dramatically.

“oh, forgive me! what a very handsome young boy you are.” he wraps his arms around your leg, giggling into it.

“mama! mama!” nima interrupts, holding her new feathers up to your face. “these pwease!”

nima, your youngest, was one of the main reasons you lost sleep at night. she’s very shy around people she doesn’t know, but very comfortable with her siblings. she finds comfort in you and neteyam, to her, you both are her sun and moon. you often find her in the middle of the night curled up in between you and neteyam, from the “bad dreams” she has. (she has bad dreams almost every night. it’s just an excuse to be closer to you both).

“these ones?” you question, holding them up. “they’re very pretty, little love. do you need help putting them on?”

“noooo! i do it!” she giggles as she runs off to the other side of the hut.

just then, the flap to your hut opened, revealing your beloved husband.

“iiiiiiiit’s dad!” neteyam says, causing all four children to burst into a fit of giggles.

“where are my five wonderful children?” he asks, looking around the hut even though they’ve all ran right to his feet, apart from nima.

txonuk gives a confused look to both se’ayl and tsantu. whispering, he asks “five? but, there’s only…” and he begins counting on his fingers. “there’s only 4 of us!”

tsantu shakes his head, whispering back “he’s talking about the baby in momma’s belly, skxawng.”

“hmmmm, one!” neteyam says, placing a kiss to tsantu’s head.

“and there’s two!” kissing the top of se’ayl’s head.

“dad! dad i’m right here!” txonuk says, pointing to himself.

“oh, there’s three!” neteyam chuckles as he places a kiss to txonuk’s head.

“now, where’s my number four?”

nima runs over, her arm stuck in the air from her necklace being on wrong.

“daddy, i’m stuck!” she pouts, her little eyes filling with tears.

neteyam kneels, fixing her necklace and freeing her arm, kissing the top of her head.

“there’s my #4. no need for tears, babygirl. are those new feathers?”

she giggles, and squeals “yes!” before running away.

glancing over to you now, neteyam stands, arms open wide.

“looking for #5?” you question, moving your swollen belly closer to his grasp.

“ah, my #5.” he kisses your belly gently, before snaking his arms around your waist, lips to your ear as he says

“hi, mama. looking beautiful, as always.”

“hi.” you smile, kissing your mate, which earns a collective “ewwwww!” from your children.

you both laugh, as neteyam covers your face in kisses. forehead, cheeks, chin, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach, he’d kiss.

“daddy, that’s GWOSS!” nima shouts, covering her eyes.

“well, good thing aunty kiri, *kiss* uncle lo’ak, *kiss* and aunty tuk tuk *kiss* are waiting outside for you four, *kiss* because i have a loooot more *kiss* kisses for *kiss* mama!” he says, kissing you again, chuckling against your skin.

they squeal and run out of the hut, to be met with their favorite aunts and uncle. you stand in the doorway of your hut, neteyam’ standing behind you as one arm is wrapped around your waist, the other holding the flap to your hut open.

“sooo, are you guys coming with us now or-“ lo’ak asks, just to be cut off by neteyam.

“no. you go ahead, we’ll be there soon.”

kiri takes se’ayl’s hand, while tuk takes nima’s, as they start to head to the celebration. lo’ak takes tsantu’s in one, and txonuk’s in the other.

lo’ak rolls his eyes, muttering “keep it in your loincloth, would ya.”

although he mumbled, neteyam still heard him.

“have you SEEN my mate? how on pandora would i do that?”

lo’ak groans, walking away, yelling “get a room, you two!”

“we’re trying!!” neteyam yells back before closing the flap to your hut.