#there is not a day that goes by without me wishing I had her voice
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 days ago
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 4
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3
TW: one instance of homophobic language (internally), fear of violence due to homophobia (which doesn't occur).
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Chrissy would have never expected Steve Harrington to be full of such soft, gooey feelings, but with every letter she helps him right, he only gets sappier. The latest is so sticky with sap she’s afraid it’ll stick to her fingers.
Part of her, the smallest, niggling part, wishes Steve really was her boyfriend, and all those little niceties could be for her. But, that wouldn’t be fair to Steve, anyway. There’s nothing there; he’s just Steve—the platonic ideal of a best friend.
So, she wears his last name on her back, helps him write his little notes, and hopes ardently that she’ll find someone she cares that much about for herself.
“What are you doing?”
Chrissy’s fingers stumble at the unexpected voice, Steve’s latest letter fluttering to the dirty ground. Someone else beats her to picking it up. She watches, mouth in her throat, as one of Eddie’s friends unfolds the note. He squints down at it, eyebrows raising higher and higher until they’re almost meeting his hairline by the time he reaches the sign-off.
He folds it up carefully before handing it back to her. She clutches it to her chest, but the damage has already been done.
“Aren’t you dating Harrington?” Jeff asks.
Chrissy stumbles over her words, only getting out an, “it’s not like—” and a “I wouldn’t do—” before sputtering into silence.
They stand there, staring at each other for an endless moment, neither speaking, before Chrissy finally spins around, shoves the note into Eddie’s locker, and flees as fast as her tired legs can carry her.
He doesn’t follow.
Practice had run long, and she’d just wanted to leave the note and get home. Now, home is less of a relief and more somewhere that she can stew in the repercussions of what she’s done. Jeff’s Eddie’s friend, he’ll tell him without hesitation, and where will that leave her and Steve?
With that in mind, she goes looking for Jeff bright and early the next day, hoping boys’ propensity for not talking on the phone means that they’ve yet to speak.
“Did you tell him?” she asks when she finds Jeff spinning the dial on what must be his own locker.
Seeming entirely unbothered even as everyone around them stares, Jeff continues unlocking his locker at a leisurely pace. Only once he’s pulled the lock down and swung his locker open does he turn to meet her eyes.
“You mean, did I tell my best friend that Chrissy Cunningham has been writing him love notes?” Jeff asks. Chrissy shifts her eyes around, relieved that no one’s close enough to hear Jeff’s quiet voice.
Chrissy nods, something weighty sinking into her stomach the longer he goes without responding.
He turns back to his locker with a huff to dig around on the top shelf. “No,” he says, but before the relief can hit her, he continues, “I don’t want you to hurt him, and I think you will.”
“It’s not—I don’t—“ she stumbles in an embarrassing reenactment of last night. When he turns back to her with that same judgmental look, she shores herself up, clears her throat, and finally eeks out a full sentence. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Jeff’s expression doesn’t change as he asks, “so, what? You’re going to leave Harrington for him?”
Her silence must speak volumes because he slams his locker shut, and turns to walk away, calling, “that’s what I thought” over his shoulder.
She stands, transfixed, as he walks away.
His dismissal niggles at her, until she finds herself seeking him out again before the end of the day. He’s walking out of the bathroom, still shaking his hands dry as she rushes up to him, matching his stride down the hallway step for step.
“I’m not dating Steve,” she says.
It’s the first time she’s said it aloud, none of her friends close enough to confide in. But, here she is, telling the best friend of one half of the reason her and Steve are even doing this, entirely unprompted.
Jeff looks at her sidelong. “Did you tell the rest of the school that?”
Chrissy sweeps her ponytail over her shoulder as she rolls her eyes. She’d never told anyone her and Steve were dating. All it’d taken was her wearing his letterman, and that confrontation with Jason, and everyone had been convinced, no lying necessary.
“It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”
It does, but she’s been spending too much time with Steve, and his aloof indifference to his image has been rubbing off. She’s glad.
“But you’re telling me, because what?” he asks, still skeptical. “You have a big crush on my best friend?”
He throws finger quotations around the word crush that would be insulting if he wasn’t right. She does like Eddie. He’s weird, but nice unless provoked. But the thought of kissing his dry lips makes her nose wrinkle.
“It’s not like that,” she says again.
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
He walks into his next class without another word. Chrissy continues down the hall, barely making it in time for her own.
It doesn’t get better.
Jeff’s dislike, visible in his eyes anytime they cross paths, cuts at her. She finds herself seeking him out, explaining again and again, or trying to without saying anything at all.
“It’s really not like that!” she says, finally frustrated enough to raise her voice. “Steve’s handwriting is atrocious so I was just—”
She cuts herself off, hands slamming over her mouth as she realizes what she’s said. It’s just, Jeff was making that face she hates again, that one with the raised brows and judgmental smirk, and she’d gotten mad.
“Steve’s handwriting
” Jeff murmurs quietly, eyebrows now lowered and furrowed in thought.
She might’ve been able to play it off. But the silence has lingered too long, and Chrissy’s never had much of a poker face. She knows the guilt and panic in her expression is damning; she still can’t seem to wipe it off her face.
“The notes
” Jeff starts, trailing off like he can’t bear to say it, “are from Steve?”
Chrissy clenches her hand tighter across her mouth like she can somehow retroactively shove her words back into her throat, stop Jeff from having the realization that might get Steve–who’s quickly becoming her best friend–killed. But, he keeps just looking at her. So, she nods, movements jerky and scared.
“Shit,” Jeff says, finally breaking eye contact to bend over and squeeze the bridge of his nose. “That explains so much.”
Unable to stop herself, Chrissy bursts into tears.
***
Eddie heads to his locker first thing in the morning. He’s been buzzing since he dropped off the last letter, hoping against hope that she’d check there again. And there, like an answer to his prayers, is an envelope resting atop his neglected Biology textbook.
Eddie’s ready to become a believer if all his hopes and dreams keep coming true. He’ll drop down on his knees and repent for all his sins if it means these letters keep coming. In fact, he’ll do it here and now, envelope clutched between sweaty palms as his knees smack into the unforgiving floor of the hallway. All the peons around him give him a wide berth as he smacks his palms together and sends up a prayer like he’s seen people do on TV.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jeff asks, squinting down at him like this is the weirdest thing he’s ever caught Eddie doing.
“Nothing!” Eddie replies, resisting the urge to shove the letter into his mouth. He hasn’t even got to read it yet, no way is he squandering this opportunity just because Jeff’s butting his nosy little nose into his business.
But when Eddie meets Jeff’s eyes, he looks so squinty and weird, and un-Jeff-like, that Eddie’s almost worried. He stands, bruised knees aching as he shoves the envelope—gently!—into the deep pocket of his jeans. Jeff watches the paper until it’s entirely out of sight.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, hand reaching out to cup Jeff’s shoulder.
Jeff shakes his head like a dog after a bath, finally looking away from the ass of Eddie’s jeans. “What?” he asks, before shaking his head again, and it must help shake a thought loose because the next thing he says is, “I’m fine.”
Eddie keeps his eyes fixed on Jeff, wondering if it’ll be enough to break him, but all Jeff does is clench his jaw and straighten his shoulders, a warrior ready for battle.
“All right,” Eddie says, reaching his finger out to boop Jeff’s nose in that way he hates. “Keep your secrets.”
Then, he turns and walks away. He smiles as Jeff sputters behind him, calling out, “I don’t have any secrets!” just as Eddie pushes into the bathroom.
There’s a few freshmen in there, but they scatter as Eddie enters. Even still, Eddie rushes into one of the stalls and locks it behind himself. This is about as far as a lit candle and mood lighting as one can get—Eddie smells the hints of the shit the last guy in here must have taken and the fluorescents are bright enough to drill a headache into his skull—but Eddie can’t wait any longer.
He tears into the envelope, as gently as he can with impatient, shaking fingers.
  Eddie —
  I know you don’t like them, but I like sports. There’s something about depending on your body to get you through a hard work-out, you know? But, I don’t know if it’s my thing, like Dungeons and Dragons and music are yours. Maybe I don’t have a thing. Is that weird?
  My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors. I’d love to see you in such a bright color one day, even if I do love all the black and red. It suits you.
  I’ve never dreamt much, but when they’re good, they’re usually about you, so your hopes just might come true.
  I know your handwriting, and what you yell about for the world to hear, but I don’t know as much as I’d like. I want to know everything about you. What’s your favorite color? Do you have happy dreams?
  Yours, Always
  Your Secret Admirer
  P.S. Maybe put it in Romeo and Juliet this time, the edition with the tear in the cover.
Here, tucked away in this shitty bathroom in this shitty school, Eddie Munson smiles. He’s got another note to write, and another book in the library to find.
*** 
“I have some bad news.”
Steve’s barely stepped out of his car before Chrissy’s ambushing him. He takes a startled step back into the beemer, as he meets her gaze.
Chrissy’s wringing her hands together, anxiety wafting off her. Just behind her shoulder, a guy Steve only recognizes as one of Eddie’s friends is stoutly avoiding his eyes. Whatever this is, it’s got Steve’s gut sinking into his socks.
“What happened?” Steve asks hesitantly.
His mind’s ticking away, and coming up with all the worst case scenarios. Eddie’s in trouble, or hurt, or worse. What else could bring these two together?
“Jeff knows about the letters!” Chrissy cries, words all jumbled together in her rush to get them out.
Steve takes a step back, pressing his spine uncomfortably into the metal roof of his car, instinct against an unknown threat.  No one steps after him. It’s hard to take his eyes off Jeff and Chrissy, but he does. The parking lot’s crowded with warm bodies pushing between cars, desperate to make it to class on time.
Just moments ago, Steve was one of them.
“You told him?” Steve asks, eyes locked on Chrissy.
For her part, Chrissy’s eyes look big and shiny as she nods. She takes a step forward, and it takes everything in him not to step back. It’s just—he’d thought they were friends.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, tears finally pouring out of her eyes.
Steve watches, stagnant, as the person he was starting to consider his best friend, cries. He wants to hug her, wants to scream at her, wants to run the hell out of here to lick his wounds in peace. But, Jeff takes a step forward, scowl on his face, and Steve takes two hasty steps back, tumbling painfully through his open driver’s side door and sprawling uncomfortably on his stick shift.
The few students nearby turn to look at him, saying snide comments to one another, barely polite enough to talk in whispers. He hardly notices, eyes locked on the main threat. Jeff’s face softens as he stops his forward momentum, foot still raised in the air for a step he doesn’t take. No one moves until everyone stops watching the spectacle and begins walking away.
Jeff’s the one who breaks the stand-off, voice quieter and gentler than he’d expected. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.”
Steve stares him down, still sprawled uncomfortably in his car. He’s right, but a small voice in the back of Steve’s head is wondering if they should do this at all. He wants to cut his losses and run. But, Chrissy’s still crying, and if his secret is going to be spread around the school, he’d rather have a head start out of town.
He crawls out of his seat, limbs feeling more ungainly and awkward than they have since he was prepubescent. It feels like every eye in town turns toward him as the sound of his closing car door echoes through the rapidly emptying parking lot.
“Follow me,” he says.
Turning his back on them feels like a show of trust he can’t afford, but he’s not following either of them off school grounds. The football field will be empty at this time on a Friday, especially with the rain coming down.
None of them are wearing coats, so he leads them beneath the bleachers. The rain still drips between the rafters, but there are a few dry spots big enough to stand in.
“Make-out spot, Harrington?” Jeff asks, mouth quirked up as he leans against one of the metal support beams despite it being wet and cold.
Steve’s intestines squirm around in his stomach at the way Jeff and Chrissy stay standing next to each other, a united front against Steve.
“It’s not like it’s Skull Rock,” Steve says, proud that his voice doesn’t shake. “Now, say what you want to say so I can go home.”
“There’s still school,” Chrissy hiccups out, as if he cares at all about that right now.
Jeff straightens, small smile dropping off his face as he eyes Steve. Chrissy’s face is wet. Steve’s just glad he can no longer tell what’s raindrops and what’s tears.
“I was being a dick to her,” Jeff says.
“No, you were—” Chrissy starts before Jeff talks right over her.
“All she said was that your handwriting was bad, and I put the rest together.”
A small part of Steve is soothed that Chrissy hadn’t told him on purpose. Accidents happen, he can understand that. But—
“Eddie told you about the letters?” Steve asks. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, Jeff and Eddie are always occupying the same spaces. They must be close.
Jeff shakes his head, but it’s Chrissy that speaks first, “he saw me putting one in Eddie’s locker.”
“Oh,” Steve says, slumping into himself.
They’re both staring at him now.
Steve’s never been good with silences. When his parents are gone, he leaves the TV on in the living room all hours of the day. At school, he surrounds himself with warm bodies, all making noise. In his car, there’s always a tape playing in his deck.
“So, should I start fleeing town?” Steve asks, trying for a joking tone, but his voice cracks tellingly on the last word.
“No!” Chrissy cries.
She rushes forward, wrapping the entirety of her small body around his like she can shelter him from any harms that might come for him. Steve stumbles back, barely stabilizing before they both go tumbling into the dirt.
He wraps his arms hesitantly around her, patting her back awkwardly as she undoubtedly cries into his shoulder. She’s short enough that he can put his chin on her head, so he does. She feels right in his arms—good and warm.
Why couldn’t he like her instead?
“It’s okay, Chris,” he says, but she’s too short to hide in, and he’s got a perfect view of Jeff, still in his original spot. “It’ll be okay.”
It feels like a lie when it comes out of his mouth. He meets Jeff’s eyes, surprised when he finds them warm.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Jeff says.
It’s only then that Steve realizes how haggard his breathing had become, like he’d been running suicide’s in the gym, not standing stationary fighting the fears of his own mind.
He sucks in an unencumbered breath, the stone constricting his lungs ground down to almost nothing. Steve nods, arms still wrapped around Chrissy like she might be ripped away from him. He couldn’t have expected anything better, not in Hawkins. Except, what’s the likelihood he gets this lucky again?
He’s two for two with good reactions, what’s the likelihood the third won’t play a nice game of smear the queer?
Except, this is one of Eddie’s best friends, and does “anyone” even include him?
“Even Eddie?” Steve asks, that same damning quiver back in his voice.
Jeff shakes his head, and before Steve can begin to panic, Jeff speaks, “I think you should tell him, but it’s your secret man.”
Steve tries to find any sign of a lie on Jeff’s face. The other boy just looks placidly back, waiting his scrutiny out.
“Thank you,” Chrissy and Steve say at the same time.
They collapse into each other, giggling like fools as the adrenaline leaves them both. Behind them, Jeff’s smiling like he finds this whole thing charming.
Three might be a crowd, but Steve’s never liked being alone. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
PART 5
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silverskye13 · 1 year ago
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For the fic writer ask, number 14? :D
14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
A Good Ol Fashioned Hell-Raising. A Good Ol Fashioned Hell-Raising.
We are so, so lacking in good modern Westerns with queer rep, that also fall into the "Weird West" genre. I need to see a fire elemental with a rifle and a skeleton with a six-shooter being gay and killing bandits. Also? Imagine the absolute buckwild VFX they could make for the magic?? Goddddd I would love love love to see that in live-action specifically. It'd be like watching Nick Cage's Ghost Rider for the first time all over again. When Sam Elliot got on his flaming horse??? Christ sakes.
Oh whoops. Sorry. Went feral for a second there. I'm back. What happened?
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saintobio · 5 months ago
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blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryƍmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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TWO YEARS LATER
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you
” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
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hitomisuzuya · 26 days ago
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scaramouche x fem!reader. fluff. scara being drunk and in love. drunk voicemails. soft scara. college au
i have aventurine smut planned, but i have wanted to write something like this for a long time. the lyrics are from somewhere only we know by keane.
scaramouche had plans to go out last night. but you didn't feel well, so you told him to go out with xiao without you. to have fun and not drink too much. he protested at first, saying "what kind of a man leaves his woman to go out when she is sick?" complete with trademark huff, and crossed arms.
scaramouche hates being without you. really, really hates it.
the next morning, feeling much better, you rolled over and grabbed your phone to check the time. you discovered you had several voicemails. you'd been so deep asleep that you didn't hear the phone ring.
they were all from scaramouche.
"fuck, you'd better be asleep, kitten," came scaramouche's very slurred voice, "i really hate the song playing. i wish you were here so my ears aren't bleeding alone. i don't know why xiao fucking loves this song. it's stupid pop crap. i miss you. fuck, i am so in love with you. you should feel my heart. it goes skip, skip when i think about you. it's kind of annoying--" end of voicemail.
he must've hit the recording limit.
"hey kitten, listen, it's a song you like. more pop crap, but the piano is kind of clutch, not gonna lie," you heard shuffling for a moment, he must've been taking his phone from his ear and holding it out so you could hear the song. after a few moments of hearing shrilled music, he must've put the phone back to his ear. "fuck what's it called again?" you heard some drunk sounding humming before the voicemail stopped.
smiling, you went onto the third voicemail. you heard somewhere only we know by keane come through the speaker again. only this time, you heard scaramouche's slurred voice singing the song to you. "i felt the earth beneath my feet. sat by the river and it made me complete. you make me feel complete."
scaramouche stumbled and hummed adorably to the part of the song he didn't know. your smile widened. "oh simppllee thing, where have you gone..yeah, kitten where are you? i miss you. i'll be he medicine that makes you feel better. fuck how does this song go?" the voicemail ended.
the fourth one immediately started with scaramouche singing, more slurred than before. you found out later from xiao that he'd fed the jukebox at the bar with 5 bucks to play somewhere only we know over and over so he could call you back to sing the parts of the song he wanted to sing to you.
"i'm getting old and i need something to rely onnnnnn. fuck hold on, i wanted to sing this part to you first..no, did you hear the made me feel complete part? you make me feel complete," you heard drinking noises and a heavy sigh.
"dude, scara, she is probably sleeping. you are going to wake her up," xiao's voice interrupted.
"fuck off, you shithead! i'm serenading my kitten! go put another dollar in the jukebox, i'm not done, she needs to hear this!" the voicemail ended.
the last voicemail started with him humming somewhere only we know. "i need something to rellyy on." at this point, he was just singing random lyrics. "wait, hold on..made me feel complete. something to rely on..xiao! xiao! these fucking lyrics, these fuckers really wrote this whole song for her," there was some shuffling noises. "xiao, we gotta go fucking kill keane!"
he was deadass convinced the band was in love with you and wrote the song for you so they could steal you away from him.
later that day, you played the voicemails for scaramouche. 'oh my god..i got so drunk last night" he said, dismayed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.
"what? i thought the voicemails were sweet," you said, grinning at him. you gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "i'm keeping them." you had to say that before he asked you to delete them.
he sighed. "fine. keep them. not another soul hears them," he hissed. he was incapable of saying no to you.
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danikamariewrites · 2 months ago
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Sickly
Poly!Batboys x reader
Notes: I’m not sure why but a lot of my poly batboys stuff has been Cassian. At this point I should just make these ideas just Cassian x reader but I love including all the boys
Warnings: mentions of medicine and the flu
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Kissing and hugging each of your mates goodbye never gets easier. Today was an exception though. You were excited to stay home alone for a few days—alone time is rare since your mates are always around.
Cassian feels the opposite. You saved his goodbye for last knowing how clingy he gets when he goes away.
“I’m gonna miss you so much, sweetheart.” Cassian groans into your neck as he squeezes you. Patting his shoulder you let out a small ‘aww’.
“I’m going to miss you too, baby.” You move to let go but Cassian tightens his hold on you. Rhys lets out a deep sigh. “Cassian, we have to go. Now.”
Cass groans louder, finally releasing you. He ruffles your hair and gives you a small pout. “Bye, sweetheart. We’ll be back in a few days.” He says genuinely sad. You smirk and raise a brow at him. “I know that, do you know that?”
Cassian messes your hair again as Az moves to pull him out the door. “Bye! I love you guys!” You yell after them. “Bye, sweetheart!” Azriel rolls his eyes, “She knows Cass. She will be fine.”
“But what if she isn’t-” before Cassian can get another word out Rhys winks at you, grabbing onto the males to winnow away.
Shutting the door you take the stairs two at a time to your personal chambers. Nuala and Cerridwin had set up a spa night for you and without the boys interrupting you it was sure to be a peaceful one.
Hours later with your hair brushed and braided the twins helped you settle into bed. While your mates would only be away for a few days you were going to revel in this short lived peace.
Your peace was, unfortunately, was shorter lived than you expected. When Nuala came to wake you for breakfast she found you absolutely miserable. Cough, runny nose, aches, and a fever that had her snatching her hand away from your forehead as if you burned her. You had tried to wave it off as nothing but a cold.
“Should I call for the High Lord to return?” Nuala asked carefully. You shook your head slowly so as not to aggravate your sinuses. “No. I’ll be fine, I just need to rest.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Nuala bowed before leaving you.
About halfway through day two you were wishing for your mates to come home and take care of you. You dreamed of Rhys using his powers to take your pain away so you could sleep peacefully. But you couldn’t find it in you to call them home knowing how important their work is.
But today they were finally on their way back. They promised you they’d be back in time for breakfast. All morning, every sound had you jolting to stay awake as you waited in bed.
Your eyes fluttered open as a large calloused hand cupped your cheek, tsking at how warm you felt.
“Hi sweetheart,” Cassian whispered. You mumble an incoherent greeting thanks to your lips feeling too heavy and your tongue sticking to the roof of your dry mouth.
“Has she been sick since we left?” Cassian asked softly, but you could hear the restraint in his voice. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know his jaw was clenched. “Yes,” Nuala replied smoothly, “she didn’t want to call you all home, insisting she rests. Madja has seen her and left tonics.”
Cassian’s fist clenches in your hair, quickly releasing so he wouldn’t hurt you. “Thank you, for keeping an eye on her.” “Of course.” The wraith bows her head, turning on her heel to leave.
Cassian always hated leaving you in case something happened. Even if it was just a cold, Cass wanted to be there to save you from it. The fact that you’ve been suffering for three days without him makes his stomach tie in knots from guilt.
“Can I get you anything? Did you take any tonics yet?” He asks softly.
“No,” you mumble. “Will you get it for me, and some toast?” Cassian leaves a light kiss on your forehead. “Of course I can, I’ll be right back.”
In his absence Rhys and Azriel check on you. The pair dote on you, telling you about the snowfall in the Illyrian mountains. You were starting to wish you went with them, but winter would arrive in Velaris soon.
When Cassian returns he gives the two males a scowl reserved for his soldiers. “Cass, this is not an I-told-you-so moment.” Rhys tells him gently.
“Out, so I can take care of our mate.”
Rhys and Az hesitate, not wanting to leave you while you’re sick.
“You two should go. I don’t want to get all of you sick.” You pout at them, giving them sad eyes for good measure. The pair conceded and left you in Cassian’s care. Az gave you a quick peck on your forehead before Cassian shooed him away.
You watch as Cassian rips your toast up into bite sized pieces to feed to you. You smile at him with hearts in your eyes. Watching the General of the Night Court do something as mundane as angling the straw in your water cup so you don’t worry about spills just makes you fall in love all over again.
Cassian feeds you a few pieces of the ripped up toast before handing you the tonic. As he cuddles up to you Cass lays a cool cloth on your forehead, relieving your high temperature and the splitting headache he knows is coming. A satisfied hum leaves your lips as you snuggle closer to Cassian. “Thank you,” you say quietly. He lightly kisses the top of your head, “Of course, sweetheart.”
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filmologetica · 2 months ago
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BEHAVIOR — dean winchester
pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.
the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.
warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.
a/n: this was
 something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.
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Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.
Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.
The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.
“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.
Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.
“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.
Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.
Every.
Single.
Thing
made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.
Fourteen days. And counting.
“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.
Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”
“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”
“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”
“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.
“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”
Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.
Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”
“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”
“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.
“Yeah.”
“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”
Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.
“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.
“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you
”
And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one
 God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.
“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.
When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.
You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”
And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.
Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”
You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”
“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.
“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.
“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”
As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.
The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.
“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.
“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”
“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.
“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”
And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.
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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 3 months ago
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A Day in Life
Synopsis: A day in your life while working as the Justice League's assistant. Also, they are all yanderes for you and it's Valentine's Day.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader
Tw: 18+ just because of a mention of Superman misusing his X-Ray vision and the mention of hooking up, aside from that, this is pretty SFW; Flash and Green Lantern are a little delusional; Hal Jordan is pushy; Batman is probably a little out of character (and I’m ashamed to keep it that way) bc I can't see him giving anyone flowers as Batman, just as Bruce Wayne; Mentions of them all secretly stalking you; This League members are Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash (Barry Allen), Green Lantern (Hal Jordan; John Stewart is mentioned), Aquaman and Martian Manhunter; I wrote too little about Martian Manhunter, Aquaman here because I don't know much about them; Wish I had more ideas for Wonder Woman’s interaction here too cause I love her; My crush on Hal is very obvious; Reader doesn't struggle much against them but they're also pretty tame; The physics in flying and running at super speed might be wrong but this is comic book science so it's wrong either way; English is not my first language.
Word count: 1,6k
Requested? No.
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
The zeta tube flashes and the AI voice announces the arrival of Flash. Your heart goes fast.
— Hey, (Y/N)! — In a flash, he's in front of you. — Happy Valentine's Day! — You tear your eyes off of your schedule on your tablet and see him holding a rose towards you.
— Oh, hey, Flash
 — You reply a little tense. — Thank you
 You didn't need to. — You hesitantly take the rose from him and whilst your attention is on staring at the flower and holding back a grimace, you miss the glint in his blue eyes. His blush is covered by his mask. His mind seeks for something to say before you decide to break the momentary silence. — You're really sweet, it's great to have a friend like you! — You make sure to exclain, the tone a notch higher, trying to make your point come across. Flash’s face falls.
— Uh- I- Actually- — His speech gets cut off by the zeta announcing Superman. Before you can have a heart attack, the boy scout also zooms in front of you, this time your hair blows back with the wind. He must've come flying.
— (Y/N)’s heart is pounding, what are you doing, Flash? — Superman alternates between looking at your face worriedly, then your chest, then glaring at the speedster by his side.
— What? Nothing! — Flash looks wide-eyed at Superman. Then his mind clicks and he looks at you again. — Wait, what? Your heart is pounding? Is it
 Is it because of me?! — You see the dazed look on his face coming to the surface again. Oh boy.
You casually make the effort to take a breath you didn't know you were holding and make your heart go down. You hate when Super uses his X-Ray vision on you. You can never be sure when he is doing it, but why else would he analytically stare specifically at your body when he is worried about you? Also, that time when you commented with Sarah from the kitchen’s crew that you forgot to do your laundry and went to the Watchtower without underwear. Seconds later, Superman appeared in the doorway, looking startled and flustered, ears red. Although he pretended to have just arrived at the tower and you and your friend chose to ignore your embarrassment that your boss with superhearing might have chose that exact moment to focus his hearing on only the places around him, including your too intimate conversation, you still caught him red handed sneaking glances specifically at your hips, and he hurriedly exited the room after that. At the time, you had just recently started the job as the Justice League’s assistant. After that you were a lot more aware.
After a while you realized you had a reason to be.
Superman was glaring at the rose in your hand and Flash was daydreaming while looking at your face when the zeta flashed again and you snapped out of it fast enough that by the time you started talking, your mind didn't pay attention to who had just arrived.
— Hm, no. It's just you fast people are always catching me off guard. — Flash deflates and- Is he pouting? Bro. Superman lights up and looks at you again.
— Oh, sorry, (N/N), we always forget about that. — The alien chuckles while rubbing the back of his head.
— Superman. Flash. — You and Flash jump, but Superman, not surprisingly, doesn't react and just follows you three and looks behind the two heros in front of you to the one with the gruff voice that just arrived.
Flash groans and Superman just rolls his eyes, you can see that while trying to peak past the men’s towering frames blocking you. You don't have to guess much though, because they make space for the newcomer and you suppress a tired sigh at seeing Batman making his way to you with a gigantic arrangement of flowers that covers his entire torso, arms and head, only his bat-ears, legs and cape being visible.
— (Y/N). Those are for you. — Color me shocked. Before you can try to start thinking about how you are gonna take this absurdity anywhere, vengeance speaks. — I'm gonna leave it at your desk.
— Hmhmm. Thank you, Batman. — You refused to watch his retreating form and let any member of your yandere harem think you actually have an interest in any of them and look down at your tablet again. The action makes you remember the rose you're still holding and you hurriedly walk away from the two nutcases stuck glaring at the third and go to his side. — Actually, take this with you. — You stick the rose amongst the rest of the flowers and before any of them can say anything else, you get out of the room.
You take a deep breath. Since the League’s weird obsession started seemingly around a year ago, you had a whole crisis over it. The pay was good, and it increased even more when they took this insane liking to you, so it's not like you could just quit like it was nothing. Besides, it's the Justice League, you could run from the fucking planet and they would still find you. It's easier to adapt.
You go on with your routine for a few minutes until you bump into a neon green brick wall. Scratch that, it's just Green Lantern’s chest.
— Hey, cutie, I was looking for you. — Your eyes widen when the space cop suddenly holds you by the shoulders, pushes you against a wall, then lets you go just to keep his two muscular arms on each side of you, trapping you and keeping you close to his frame. Ugh, the Lantern with brown hair has always been the more touchy one. You miss the one with dark skin and common sense.
— Need me for something? — You hold a groan with the limitless possibilities of how he could use that sentence to be crude, but you just wanted to get rid of him. He smirks.
— I was wondering if you were free today and would like to go on a date with me later
 — He knew you were free. You knew he knew you were free. Every time you have a date (and you never told them) the League seems to get more on edge and suddenly your workload increases. Tsk, you hate them. Unfortunately, you love nice things even more.
You raise an eyebrow.
— I don't even know your name. — You point out, maybe that would make him give up, but he just shrugged.
— I could tell you, trust is a fundamental part in any relationship.
— Is a date a relationship? Also I don't think Batman would like that. — Any of that. He cocks his head to the side and his beautiful hair moves down.
— Cutie, you don't have to worry about Spooky. And I don't want to just hook up with you, you know that. Now just stop playing hard to get and-
A golden light catches your attention, it could be a miracle, but it's just Wonder Woman's lasso wrapping around the lantern's neck and pulling him away from you. Unfortunately, she tied a it in a way that the action wouldn't strangle him or break his neck.
— Ugh, men really have no boundaries. — The amazon rolls her lasso back and takes a step towards you, keeping said man sulking behind her while analyzing you. — Forgive my friend, (Y/N). He grew up in a barn. — The stunning demigoddess smiles at you.
Ugh, if she wasn't just as crazy as the rest of them you would happily swoon over her.
— Right. Well, I have to go. — You turn your back to them and take fast but casual steps away from them and the empty hallway. It never fails to scare the shit out of you and give you goosebumps whenever one of them catches you alone in one of those, and the competition between them for your heart somehow makes you confident enough that if there are at least two of them, no harm will come to you.
You clear your throat. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. The martian should’ve arrived by now and you don't doubt he reads your mind 24/7 when he’s close enough.
You’re about to turn a corridor when you spot Aquaman poking his head in a room, looking for something, it's probably you, only his body is visible and he can't see you.
You hold a groan and run as quietly as possible away from him without him noticing, remembering the time he ranted to you about seahorses being the most romantic fish species, with monogamous mate bonds for lifetime, and all the times he promised to show you Atlantis one day and make you rule his people by his side.
A few minutes later when you look at the clock, you know by that time they're all already in their meeting and not wandering around, desperate for a crumb of your attention. To confirm that, you open the camera’s feed that not many had access to and idly check their presence in the meeting room. Your stomach churns seeing your figure in one of their monitors, the others displaying normal missions info. Of course they would follow you around through the cameras, because that's just as important as discussing wars and crisis in Earth countries and other planets.
You passively shut the screen when you finally get to your office, in which you avoid staying until you absolutely have to, or the coast is clear enough to, otherwise it's the most obvious place for them to force an interaction with you.
You look up and your shoulders drop in defeat at the sign of too many flowers, gifts and letters from each member of the League.
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queen-of-deans-booty · 10 months ago
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just
 really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
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x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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drabblesandimagines · 7 months ago
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Cramped
Inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting prompt 1080! "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?" Leon Kennedy x gn reader
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“I can’t do this.” Leon mutters under his breath, but you hear it as clear as day from your position.
How could you not, seeing as you’re currently only an inch away from his chest, his head nearly resting atop your own?
You’ve been trapped in this tiny storage cupboard for at least 20 minutes now, waiting for Hunnigan to give the all-clear that all 27 heat signals had dispersed from outside your current location. You would describe yourself as a relatively decent shot, Leon more so, but the numbers weren’t in your favour.
“Claustrophobic?” You whisper back, cautious that your voice may carry. You wish you could shift your left foot ever so slightly, currently standing awkwardly over a bucket that was sat at the bottom at the cupboard when you entered.
“No.” He has his hands braced either side of you against the opposite wall, seemingly caging you in more than the cupboard is. Your arms awkwardly hung by your side, painfully aware of how if you moved even slightly forward you’d be pressing your front into his chest, fingers ghosting against his hips.
“I can’t do this.” Leon says again. “Missions - with you.”
“Oh, come on,” you wish you could step back so you could give him a proper withering stare. “You can’t blame me every time something goes wrong. The intel definitely said only five guards were on site at any one time.”
“No. I mean, I
” He’d rub the bridge of his nose if he could bring his arm forward to do it without hitting you in the process. “I can’t concentrate.” You scoff, immediately defensive. “And how is that my fault?” “Because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you!” Silence. “Oh.” “Yes, oh.” He mocks, frustrated. He's meant to be better than this. Hell, he usually is when the two of you are paired up. Leon’s flirty, sure, but he knows to be professional when it’s a matter of life and death, and trapped in a cupboard with a number of hostiles outside is definitely a time when he should be at his most focused. But ever since the two of you retreated in here, all he can think about is how close you are, how good you smell, the warmth of your body pressed up against his, how he could place his fingers under your chin, tilt your head up
 “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Sorry?” He looks down at you in disbelief, sure he’s misheard. “I said,” you lift your hand and trail your fingers up his chest before you rest it just above his pounding heart and meet those soft blue eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
He doesn’t need a third invitation, dropping his hands from the wall. One arm wraps around your waist, bringing you needlessly forward that final inch, your left thigh finding its way between his in lieu of anywhere else to go. His other hands grabs the back of your head and tilts it up to meet his lips, stealing your breath with a deep, frantic kiss... Hunnigan smiles to herself as she leans back in her chair at HQ, your voices falling silent on the comms in what she suspects is the result of other activity – Leon had left the channel open when you'd been forced to find cover. It’s only when she hears Kennedy let out a muffled moan that she taps to disconnect the audio, her suspicions now well and truly confirmed. The computer screen in front of her shows a blueprint of the factory, where two red dots reside in the small storage cupboard she’d directed them to after she’d ‘alerted’ them to the unwelcome company. She still needs to work out how to explain the sudden disappearance of 27 hostiles, but it’s worth it so she won’t be forced to watch the two of you dance awkwardly around each other in the office anymore.
--- This is probably the closest to a drabble I've ever gotten despite my blog name, ha! Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi
PS: Thanks to @porcelainseashore for helping me clarify the ending <3
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vbecker10 · 4 months ago
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Aww, You Do Care
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You are an analyst for SHIELD and you are going for a simple surgical procedure. All of the Avengers wish you luck and Loki does his best to pretend he doesn't care.
Warnings: Loki being a little annoying but that's expected, mentions of a surgery happening but it isn't described and I skip from the day before to the day after so the surgery isn't shown at all
A/N: This is 100% self indulgent lol I'm actually going for this same surgery in the middle of August so I wanted to write how the team would respond to what was happening.
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You close your laptop when the meeting ends and stand up, pushing in your chair. Loki stays seated in the chair next to you, finalizing his notes and Steve walks over to you from the other side of the table.
The super soldier pulls you into a tight hug and says, "Good luck tomorrow, Y/N."
"Thanks," you reply with a smile when he lets you go.
"My turn," Natasha says, pushing him aside. She hugs you tightly, "Good luck. Text me if you need anything."
"I will," you promise. "One of my friends is coming to stay with me for a few days so I should be okay."
Thor hugs you from behind, almost picking you up off the floor, "I hope everything goes well."
"Thanks," you laugh when he releases you.
Loki gets up, "Do you mind?"
He motions towards the door and you move out his way without saying anything to the God of Mischief. Tony rolls his eyes behind Loki's back then gives you a hug as well.
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Loki stands with his hands in his pockets as he waits for the elevator and you join him silently.
"Why was the team so insistent on wishing you luck?" Loki asks without looking at you.
"I'm having an operation tomorrow," you answer.
"An operation?" Loki asks, his voice holds no emotion but you see a hint of worry in his eyes when he looks at you.
"It's not a big deal. I didn't bother to tell you cause I figured you wouldn't care," you shrug.
"I do not," he agrees and the doors open. "Out curiosity, not concern," he clarifies and you smile to yourself, looking down, "What type of surgery?"
You follow him into the elevator, "They are operating on my sinuses." You touch your cheeks then the bridge of your nose to indicate where the procedure will be performed.
"Why?" he asks, still trying to act as if he is unconcerned and merely curious.
You sigh, "You know how annoying you think it is when I can't stop sniffling or sneezing?"
"Yes," he nods. "It is quite irritating that you cannot breath silently and constantly sound as if you are unwell."
You roll your eyes but that was pretty much the response you expected from the younger prince. "Well it turns out there a reason I'm always kinda sick. There's something wrong with my sinuses so my doctor is going to remove the infected tissue and then reshape my sinus cavities so they work better," you tell him with a little description as possible.
"Oh," he nods, his eyes meet yours for a moment then he looks back at the elevator buttons.
"So, I'll need to find a new way to bother you since simply trying to breath won't do it anymore," you joke.
He chuckles, "I have no doubt you will find a way. You are one of the more tiresome Midgardians I have met."
"Hurtful," you tell him sarcastically when the doors open on his floor. "Try not to miss me too much. I'll be back in a few days," you wave when he steps out.
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Just before the doors close fully Loki says, "Good luck, Y/N."
You stand alone in the elevator wondering if you had heard him correctly.
The day after the surgery, you lay in bed reading when your friend knocks on the open door to your bedroom. "You have a visitor," she says, pointing down the hall. "Feel like seeing anyone?"
You look at her a bit confused, a few of your friends were stopping by tomorrow afternoon but no one had texted about coming over today. "Umm, sure. Who is it?" you ask.
She shakes her head, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Oh... that's- okay. Yeah, you can let them in," you tell her hesitantly.
"Hello," Loki says when he walks into your bedroom a moment later.
You look at him, too stunned to respond as you sit up more in bed. You adjust your sheets and put the bookmark back in your book before setting it next to you.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, his eyes showing a hint of concern as he observes your post surgery face.
"You remember that time the hulk slammed you into concrete a bunch of times?" you ask him.
He nods, "Vividly, yes."
"Kinda like that expect face first," you point to the bruises covering your cheeks and bandages supporting your nose.
"Well..." Loki smirks, "You do look as if that is what happened."
"No, I wanted to bring you this," he conjures a small potted plant and you look at it in surprise. He puts it on your nightstand and says, "I heard it was customary to bring flowers when someone is in the hospital but you have said before that most flowers aggravate your allergies so that did not seem like a suitable option. I know you have several plants similar to this one in your office so I thought you might like it."
You laugh but stop yourself quickly, the muscles in your face are still incredibly sore. "That was mean," you tell him, touching your cheek lightly. "Did you just come here to tell me I look awful?" you ask in a joking tone.
"Wow," you say quietly, touching the green leaves gently. You look up at him and smile even though it hurts, "Aww Loki, you big softy, you do care."
"Do not tell anyone," he says seriously then he returns the smile, "But of course I care."
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @slut4tonystark @dracoswhorexx @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @anukulee @latriacy @trojanaurora @babygirl-panda19 @catsladen @stargazer-luna @rcailleachcola @lunarlopt @gruftiela @bolontiku @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @lokischambermaid @clemthecustestmonster @lovinglokilaufeyson
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sssilverstoned · 11 months ago
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reminiscing ꩜ ln4
type: instagram/twitter au
Fans suffer days leading to love's holiday without their favorite couple.
lily said: hi! my first fic here, my first social media au ever, hope u enjoy :) will be a part 2 and 3..maybe more as well. whatever my heart desires and such
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call her daddy podcast, 2/6/23
alex cooper and special guest: y/n l/n
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y/n l/n: my friends keep trying to get me on dates, but i don't know, i'm just too much of a homebody right now. trying my best, but i'm rusty.
alex cooper: right, and i totally don't want to bring it up, if you don't want it out, but...
y/n l/n: no, it's totally fine. and yes, i'm single. it's one of those things i figured people will start to pick up on, it's kinda how life like this goes.
alex cooper: like a microscope on your relationship?
y/n l/n: exactly. made stuff super stressful, especially since we started dating when we were 19.
alex cooper: shit, 5 years is longer than i thought!
y/n l/n: we grew up together, had so many highlights and growing pains, and i don't want to get on your show and wallow or pout, that's really not what i feel. and i hope no one thinks anyone did anything wrong, it's just a growth thing. some people, as they grow, grow differently. and apart, i guess.
alex cooper: but you still have love for each other, i know that for sure.
y/n l/n: i'll never ever lose that love, i don't think.
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Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,264,997 others
landonorris Quite a birthday today! Another year around the sun, another year of me kissing your face. Love you the most.
user1 yassss OUR girlfriend!
yourusername To the moon and back baby!!!!
yourusername Not pictured: his slobber on my cheek
landonorris You quite like my slobber, no? oscarpiastri I surely don't
user2: you two really are growing up together :')
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Liked by zendaya, kendalljenner, and 1,754,132 others
yourusername Sweet boy took me for a picnic, had too much wine hahaha. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, my heart is singing!!!! 23, woah am I close to getting old?
user1 SWEET BOY oh you people are sick
landonorris The most stunning girl, even napping
landonorris and yes you're old now user2 CORNYYYY (i'm ready to end it all) user3 "you're old now" and what are you??
emrata Wine's always a good idea
bellahadid happy birthday baby! come visit soon
user4 does that say lando on her necklace . i'm gonna snap soon
sza Loveeeee. U my favorite, Happy Solar Return!
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Liked by alpinegoss, paddocktea, and 16,821 others
f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in monaco:
i met lando today with a few others, he was so nice! we didn't want to ask flat out about y/n, he actually brought her up in passing when someone mentioned being from the same hometown as her, and he pointed it out himself. he didn't have the same energy we're used to when speaking about her, but it's obvious there was love in his voice, a lot of it. he's still got her friendship bracelet she made him last year on, but i think it's the type you'd have to cut to get off. regardless, i hope the best for him, and her too.
user1 you're telling me just the name of her hometown and he BLURTS about her?? AFTER being broken up??? yeah we're never seeing pearly gates atp
user2 is this what a broken home feels like?
user3 SHATTERED home. and yes. user4 y/n lando please. come home the kids miss you
user5: single y/n...don't hate me but i would love a baddie era
user6: oh this is not a safe space for you.
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hotpinkstars · 8 months ago
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WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)
-> blinded mistakes - happy ending
synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?
a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm
warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!
w/c -> 951
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-> kamisato ayato
it’s been a few days since the argument. 
ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.
once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.
you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.
he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.
“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.
“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”
he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 
he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.
“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 
“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”
you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”
he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”
“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”
he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 
“i’m not ruining this suit, right
?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 
he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.
-> wriothesley
it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 
he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.
“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”
he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”
she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 
you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 
“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.
“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”
you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 
he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 
“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”
you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 
“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.
“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”
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merthosus · 3 months ago
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Don’t kiss the cast members part 2
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Summary: After practicing a scene with Aidan, he did not quite stick to the script. Now you need to maneuver the situation smoothly, without getting into trouble. But Aidan had other ideas. Ignoring everything until he breaks down onto you like clouds soaked with rain.
@tobyisdumb your wish be my command
Rough, fast and so unbelievable good.
The taste of his bittersweet lips still stuck onto yours. You wanted to do it again, no doubt. But your mind stoped you, seeing the problems, which come with it. “Aidan we can’t..." you stumble across your words, but before you could end your sentence he smashed his lips again on yours. His smell alone tarnished all of your senses. The more you kiss, the wetter the kiss is, you feel how his hands push you harshly more into him.
It felt like he lost control, not caring anymore, that we are on a set, anyone could possibly enter. "Aidan", you mumble onto his lips, which were still occupied, exploring you. Suddently he grabbed your thigh, pulling it to his side. He shudders and lets a loose pant fall out his mouth. He seems shocked himself, his body goes tense. He let's go of you, his body leave's yours.
You watch him as he walks back to the desk pulling the script from one of the deco books and walking out. You felt empty, shocked... you couldn't even find a fitting word for it. He left faster, than your brain could comprehend. Reality flogs right into your face. He kissed you. Rough, fast and so unbelievable good. But leaving you like this was not okay, defiantly not. Suddently your anger came back. Fist he makes out with you and then he let's you hanging like this.
You get out of your paralysis and grab your script. This was not professional, it was everything but professional. You cram the peace of paper into your handbag and walk out of the set. You need to get into another set to film a scene with Robert. He squeaked as he saw you and welcomed you happily. It's miraculous how he always lifts the mood when he is in the room. "Heyyyy", he says while hugging you. As he steps away again and looks you deep into the eyes.
"You ok? You kinda look... bewildered", he tries to word it nicely. "I don't know, something very confusing happened", you tell him without saying too much. "Funny, Aidan had the same flustered expiration in his face as he walked by. Are you two a thing?", he asks you. This was a big part of his personality, teasing people with rumors. "Course, we made out in the back of the set", you say matching his tone.
-
After filming the scenes, you get out of your makeup and walk to the buffet. Getting a hot coffee after a long filming day was your treat. You let one of side of the script on the set you and Aidan had 'rehearsed', so you grab your things and go to set 36. You text your mom that you will be home soon and that you took a croissant for her at the buffet. You look up from your phone searching the room for the paper you had lost. You hoped that nobody took it.
You couldn't quite put your finger onto it but you felt watched. You turn around and search for the eyes, which were looking at you, but you found none. "Hello?", you ask. Suddently you get pressed into the wall beside you. You let out a scared squeak, as you feel hands on your hips. Aidan stands before you, his thin body pressing you into the wall. "What do you want?", you ask him, rougher than you actually intended to.
"You", he whispers. "Aidan this is insane", you mumble, as you look into his, with hair covered eyes. "You let me standing there after what you just did", you say. He shakes his head and lays his hand on your cheek. "I am sorry I just didn't know what to do", he ends his sentence in a whisper.
Aidan's intense gaze locks onto yours as he leans in closer, the weight of his presence almost suffocating. "I know," he whispers, his voice laced with regret, "I shouldn't have walked away like that. But I... I panicked." His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
His confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, the tension between you both feels unbearable. His hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if he's afraid to let go, yet unsure if he should hold on. The smell of him—earthy, with a hint of something sweet—clouds your thoughts, making it hard to think straight. "You can't just do that," you murmur, your voice trembling with the emotions surging inside you. "You can't kiss me like that and then act like it never happened."
His eyes soften, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "I know," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I can't stop thinking about you. About us." The weight of his words crashes down on you, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the set, the script, everything fading into the background. All that exists is the space between you two, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.
Aidan moves closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I don't want to run anymore," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "But this... it's complicated. We're complicated." You feel your resolve weakening, the warmth of his body so close to yours drawing you in, but the rational part of your brain fights back. "Adian, this can't just be... some fling. We have to work together. What if—" He cuts you off with a kiss, softer this time, but no less intense. It's as if he's trying to pour all his confusion, frustration, and longing into that single moment. And despite everything, you find yourself kissing him back, unable to resist the pull between you.
When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. "I don't know what this is," he says quietly, "but I want to find out. With you." You stare at him, heart pounding, as you try to make sense of everything. The logical side of you knows this could lead to disaster, but your heart... your heart is telling you something else entirely. "Aidan," you begin, your voice steadying, "if we do this, we have to be careful. This could get messy. Really messy." He nods, his expression serious. "I know. But for once, I don't care about the consequences. I care about you."
His words leave you speechless, and for the first time, you allow yourself to consider the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something more than a mistake. "Okay," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But we take it one step at a time. No more running." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he nods. "One step at a time," he agrees, his hand gently caressing your cheek. For a moment, the world feels like it’s standing still, the only thing that matters is the connection between the two of you.
I hope you like it, let me know what you think about it :)
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astralnymphh · 8 months ago
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making ellie ur anal princess ౚৎ
𓆩.đ«đžđšđđžđ« đđąđŹđœđ«đžđ­đąđšđ§ 𝐱𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐱𝐬𝐞𝐝đ“†Ș: subbottom!ellie, bit of a brat obv, spanking ofc!! rough n' nasty, sorta soft, an iota of lore buildup tbh im not doing all that, some fluff at the end i think, 2.4k+ words . BIG TEXT VERSION . MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . ART BY LOTTIE
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Wintry brumes swept through Jackson this week had to have carried some alteration of spores, for Ellie to even chew her teeth over the word yes. Bizarre as the idea should strike— "Wanna try it from behind?"— recoiling lips over her ear rim, sunken in a seat behind, and masticating denimed ass with your honed nails; Ellie was all in, blushed to the bone.
Was she at all candid originally? No, that goes without saying. Humdrums and spectrums of explicitness on your part pervade each crack and inept cough of chatter that she starts days beforehand, throat literally cracking whenever the topic emerges on dreary mornings or alive nights. Twiddly of her thumbs or knees, breaks the thick silence on a spitty click— uncalled for finger jabbing you to see if you managed to evade sleep long enough, "Um, so— it really won't hurt if I.. god— this is so fuckin'.. uh, keep.. practicing?"
Practicing. One way to say it. You assured Ellie; "Yeah, unless you're a masochist praying for a death wish." which maybe could've been articulated nicer, but she's your girlfriend, and one of her major ground-breakers for falling smitten with you— your humor. Spankin' her butt the second she spanks yours, (In turn making her the butt of the running: "That's gonna be you on Friday." joke), or nonchalantly slipping the notion that she'd "Look hotter than a V.S model." in a black thong, flopping your head and averting casual gaze to blank spaces undeserving of your eyes as if your comment wouldn't fuck with her brain for the ticking remains of daylight. Just crude humor, and not serious concepts, right?
So beyond the shadow of doubt, of course, when she's bare lain, spreadeagled of her legs caging you in, maraschino face smudged flat to her bed, perky ass in yours and teased by the caphead of your plastic dick— you give all the humor that girl can get, and fourfold.
"Don't need to clench, baby. Your butt isn't going anywhere."
Ellie clenching for her oh so cherished life felt more like she was squeezing the nervous nectar out, pearly bullets brought upon by all that foreplay— or anticipation— bedazzle the creased parts and frowns she knits as you wrap a grip on your lubed length and brush the tip against her asscrack. It prods at her, mentally. Pokes her to open up, literally.
A drawn-out whine, low and wispy, breezes her throat, "Shut up," jaw tensing grit conjointly, "You're such an ass— and don't you dare make an ass joke, I swear." you suppose she attempted to rein in some essence of control with that suppressed tone of threat, cute threat if we're mincing no words, but it's futile. Can't rise above when you're pinned below.
You snicker, contrary hand swerving over and beginning to palm her butt's half-taut half-doughy feel, and yielding it to a pull, "Hmhm." the soft heat of your touch inciting her muscles to relax, just a slight. "Want you to put it in, set the pace for me, mkay?" your voice curls at the end, tilting your face even if she couldn't exactly see.
"Huh.." she releases a breathy chuckle into the mattress, then shimmies onto her ruddy, pockmarked elbows to allow a pivot of her head. "Makin' me do all the work, can't you just do it already?" she gripes, teetering between frustration and impatience, and nearly hissing, "Fuck me already." instead. Fair skin contours along her shoulder blades as she reaches back, little dimples you wanna deepen with presses.
Muggy fingers skid the bends of your knuckles, "Ts' cute when you do." and you slacken your grip, the harness lacing your hips tugging in nooks as she takes you and levels it to her hole, not quite inserting it before another scoff unbinds from her throat.
"Uh-huh, totally." the brat card was the only thing she could play, Ellie being Ellie— plus, fuck you for shoving such a vulnerability into her by eclipsing over her body and deciphering which touches and words made her tick into a, "Yes ma'am." this past week, making her eager to get piped dumb already, even if the thought conflicts with humiliation.
Intrinsic carnality, had her whipped subconsciously. Hot blood always pooled at her cheeks whenever the mere prediction of how this would go down flashed her mind, having to mosey out of her place for a contemplative stroll. Contemplate, contemplate, ooze her eyes into the raw white, winter void, "Fuck." she couldn't help but moan, and throb untouched.
Bands flex across her grasp as she tries pulling you inside, but her body is a bit too.. antsy, taut. "Babe, it's not— mmph, it's not going in. I think we have to—"
"Have to.. what?"
"Fuck!" a rushed moan tears as skin slaps, harsh and bridging on real tears. Of pain, or by pleasure? Ellie can't convey, but her thrust into the spongy bed and toss of head begging to get strung in your fist impart the guess that fuck— you've stretched her deep, bottomed in perfectly.
You let her hole familiarize the girth for a second prior to drawing out and slamming back in, "Uh!" plush globes rippling wherever the skin spilled on top of your hip bones jamming into her. The pressure clamping you in causes a tiny kickback against your folds, chafes your clit underneath. "Fuckin' tight, aren't you?" you're a damn taunt, winching that whisper ardent to her neck. Evilly; wicked as lusty spirits tempt.
"Holy fuck, holy fu— uhh, uh uh, shit!" streams of nasty and broken up groans hike out of her gaped mouth with each pump into her, poor girl having a gouge out with the bedsheets as a means of taking you, "It's so— uhn! So fuckin' bi— I can't, hhn'can't.."
Musing sighs blur into a pitying coo, you reply, "Mhm, you can. Play with 'urself baby."
"Okay, okay—" Ellie unfolds a breathlessness, "—unhh babeee, fuckkk me." and runs it into straught curses as her tatted forearm lodges in the narrow space separating her from drenched cotton, and forks her pussy lips open, rubbing her neglected bud in sloppy strokes. Her teeth bore into her soft, coral lips when her fingers tug just right, so delectably right she could come undone then and there with your added penetration, waning from pain to indeed— pleasure. Diverts her fingers a moment to massage all the dripping slick and lube through her labia 'till it drew pretty webs between, and resumes again, noisily as ever, "Ghnna' cum, guhhh— ohh my goodd." and so nasty; dribbles of thin saliva traversing the swell of her chin.
Goddamn, she's loud. Sure, it's adorable how you pump her into a blathering mess on your cock, but this was unforeseen; surrendering her every moan to get bumped out nonsensically. Because or for you, both possibly, or definitely. "Already? Aww." you pity, muffling your speech to render your voice into thorns of mock disappointment, but in reality, you just quickened your humps. Shown audibly in the squeaks of her bed frame squawking under your combined weights.
Two splotchy flowerbeds of crimson brim at her asscheeks, owing to how intense this had began and trickled into. Hmm, could make it redder if we so wished.
Wish it is.
Quietude holds, and relents in a hard snap; a sting pricks the entirety of your palm crashing down on her butt, watching as the gentle red gains a series of richer rays and hearing the result of said slap punching through her larynx.
"Ughnn!"
Continuing: you slap once, slap twice, times it by thrice, and drive her into a quiver, procuring those wails that have your goosebumps downright rigid as the earth.
"Uh— uh— agh!"
Retiring your hands thriven of ache, they find oasis curving in the shape of her waist. "So good, isn't it Els? Can tell by how loud you're being, my sloppy girl." praised you, silkily sweet upon the lacy edge of slamming your cockhead rough on her walls.
"Yes, yessh. Make me shl— make me.. fuck— make m'your sloppy girl.." past her grace, is a side long since cowered. It's like you molded her brain to abruptly covet the feeling spurting inside her pelvis. From her spine, unto her clit, a ticklish string invokes its fray, flitting her eyes to darker heavens within her skull.
You coast your knees further up until they parked aside her hips, slanting your groin so you could plunge her wider and deeper, ending up with a draw of lubrication landsliding out. Sheer size alone— she's spread her on your strap thickly enough to stimulate certain sweet spots, and god can you tell when you do hit them. Resistance punts the strap base viciously back, dragging a yelp from your lungs. All the squelches coming from her two holes, egged you to an insatiable fucking. Arousal scorched the curves of your cheeks, in love with that sound, infatuated with her pussy, her ass, how ace of a learner she is.
Ellie's calves give upon sensation and hurtle up, rotating her ankle downwards and pushing cinched toes smushed on your bouncing hind— because that infamous pinch now consumes her fattened clit, riding her sleek-glistened fingers doggishly to pursue that heavenly itch. An oncoming recital of whines and growls coats her timbre, "Baby, uhh— babe— m'gonna cum now, dammit.. 'cum all over you— yeah." pleading for you to hasten up in buggy nudges of her heel, butting your ass.
"Oh yeah?" you swirl muse, arching your thumb into the arch her spine slowly welds into, swooning when her head lies atop her ear and a suffused, smiling expression meets your behold.
"Mhm, hmph!" a hitched gulp interrupts her, "You're too fuckin'— mhh, too fuckin good at t-this." inching into a cocky laugh for a blink in time, then swallows it returned to a screw of overwhelm in her facial muscles. She snakes her free paw under yours set on her waist, collecting it and dragging you to grope a handful of her breast, erect nipples flicking stripes due to your humps jostling her.
Weepy eyes bordered by remnants of her past tears cried inflict a bridge between pride and more praise into the pleasure points of your body, and you had no clue before this that she cried. It felt.. gratifying, seeing freckled flesh resemble pebbled waters in spring, ribbons of light warping along her cheeks.
"Those tears for me?" even so, you lower your lips and lap the pellucid stain up, puckering a smooch in its wake.
But you keep ramming a flood out.
The nod she bobs is swift, swifter than her gullet will ever deliver in this state— nor could now, a contort bolting her face inwards subsequent to a mouse-pitched moan leaving the luring lips of your lover bearing pressure into squirting her orgasm all over you, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she keens and cants her ass on you, jerking swipes over her clit wildly to fufill the ecstasy piping through her pussy. A timid and weak spray noises below— and then came the webs of liquid pearls cascading around her clit, connecting to her fingerprints as she delicately taps the beady bud.
She got thrashy, and clenched your cock in, having bitten off more than she could chew— and it thrilled your cunt to know that; fire catches, and so does the knot twisting your insides. Relish leaves your mouth as you finish base-deep in your girlfriend, imposing her to your skin-bulged grip of her soft breast melting into your palm lines as you cum, "Ohh, yes baby— good girl, good girl.. fuckk." imprinting her mind with how good that felt in your every reaction, forcing that fervor into her existence.
"I fuckin' love you, babe, I love you so fuckin' muh— yes yes yes.." Ellie reciprocates passion received, unto passion given; parting her muck sweat face from the bed and sundering that space in front of yours, suckling your bottom lip into your mouth and sharing the excess teardrops streaked upon her top lips, unlocking to simply just— breathe onto your mouth, straining the last of her orgasm in gradually dwindling moans.
One last peck at her lips charged by a high, you both temper your elation strewn throughout and become aware of the loss for air in your lungs, inhaling the scent of each other done up in exertion. The stillness sustains for a bit, kind of just drunkenly staring 'till one of you broke into a lopsided smirk— no doubt Ellie, and you just had to mingle lips again. So, you slide out carefully with the expected threads of lube following after, and you roam your damp palms away from her ass and chest and branch them on either side of her clammy waist. Her contagious giggles inspire you to mirror the same sounds as you slink behind her and spoon her, smushing the ball of your nose into her hot nape reeking of sweat.
"Was that everything you imagined— or a pain in the ass?" quiped you, quick rolling kisses on her skin, specks of your spit smearing.
Cringe compels her to split lips from you, chuckling, "Really? Right now?" a row of notches digging between her brows, and a shuffle of her legs rub at the filthy wetness layering her groin, "You've got to be kidding me."
"So it was a pain?"
All you get as a response is her shoulder blades swelling as she breathes in, and shies her face away, giving you the hair-in-your-face treatment. "Guess.. after that, 'could go for a couple snacks. I'm hungry."
You squint, "By snacks, do you mean your two-course aftersex meal?" retorting.
"Yeah! That's like, the best thing to do right after." and, her enthusiastic claim isn't all that spoiled. Ellie commonly does it, and she fucking loves it. Hot meals under some wacky or heartfelt discussion, sometimes checking in on the other person, sometimes asking how they felt— but this time, confessions would stay an enigmatic afterthought to ponder about, as really, she fucking loved what you did to her. But that's— forward. Give her a couple days and a couple hours toppled above the usual hour she knocks slumped into somnolence, and she'll admit that. Sappy sweet on the lobe of your ear, indifferent on whether you're wide awake to overhear or not.
"You felt good, uh, by the way. It hurt at first, but, I think my butt's healed from the trauma. Chair isn't uncomfortable to sit in anymore, hmph. Love you, don't ask me about it in the morning. I'll pretend you don't exist. Night, babe."
Something tells me she wants you to do it again.
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jihyoruri · 7 months ago
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍱 LIVE CRASHER kazuha nakamura x reader
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warnings ↳ yn and kazuha from shameless, fluff, idol!reader, yn is apart of lesserafim
yn delicately adjusted the frames of her glasses, their sleek contours framing her features as she leaned back against the chair. she was finally doing a live after being begged by fans to do one for weeks.
with a gentle laugh, she scanned through the flood of comments. among them, playful proposals danced across the screen, drawing a mischievous grin to her lips. she couldn't help but tease, her voice laced with playful sarcasm as she quipped, "marry all of you at once? who do you take me for?"
she took off the baseball cap off her head revealing her messy hair which made fans swoon for some odd reason over how attractive she looked. she flipped it backwards and put it back in her head, yn opens her mouth to say something to the chat but is cut off when the door behind her opens.
as yn felt the delicate touch of hands on her shoulders, a familiar warmth enveloped her. without needing to glance back, she sensed the presence of kazuha, a grin spread effortlessly across her face.
with a playful twinkle in her eye, yn turned her attention to the camera, addressing her live audience with a hint of mischief. "Is an obsessed fan lurking behind me?" she teased as kazuha playfully feigned offense.
as kazuha attempted to pinch her in mock retaliation, yn’s laughter bubbled as she moved away from the girls touch.
“what are doing here?” yn asks looking up at the girl who stood above her chair, the silence that followed her question stretched, resulting in a raise of yn’s brow. It was clear to her that kazuha didn't have a solid reason for her sudden appearance.
a knowing smile tugged at the corners of yn’s lips as kazuha finally spoke, her voice trailing off slightly, betraying her true intentions. "just decided to stop by and say hi
"the main reason she actually came is because she was starting to miss her girlfriend, who was busy being a big goof on live.
“okay
” yn responded before motioning to one of the chairs, “come sit.” kazuha complies and grabs the chair and moves it closer to yn’s and sits on it, yn immediately brings an arm to rest on the back of the girls chair out of habit.
kazuha kept her gaze on yn who interacted with the live way more than her, it was like a second nature to the extroverted girl, that’s something she could always both admire and hate yn for, she loves that the girl is so good at entertaining the fans and keeping a good relationship, but sometimes she wishes the girl could hide her charming personality and save it just for her, she laughed quietly as yn started to argue with fans.
yn adjusted the silver chain in her neck as she read the comment, “unnie, is that chain real silver? HUH?!” yn yells offended, “what kind of question is that?!” she adds dramatically.
kazuha laughs even harder, grabbing yn’s attention, "what are you laughing at?" yn’s voice held a playful edge as she leaned her face towards kazuha, holding eye contact with the girl.
kazuha's laughter subsided, but a mischievous twinkle remained in her eyes as she met yn’s gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied coyly, her tone laced with a hint of playful evasion, leaning her face closer to yn’s as well, the moment hung between them, charged with unspoken words.
the moment lasts for at least 10 seconds before the both look away from each other like it was nothing, while the comment section goes insane.
the lives goes on for a while and now yn is talking to the fans about food, “you know I haven’t eaten all day.” kazuha adds, yn’s attention snapped towards Kazuha as soon as the words left her lips,"you haven't eaten all day?"
kazuha stretches and shakes her head , a contented sigh escaping her lips, while yn immediately leans forward and picks up the peach drink she had on the side table and shoves it in kazuha’s face, “drink.”
“I’m not hungry.” the girl whines but yn shakes her head, “that’s why I gave you a drink, now drink it.” she says sternly, shaking the bottle before opening it and forcing it in kazuha’s hand.
“we should probably end the live and get some food.” yn says softly, while kazuha can’t help but smile at how easily the girl lost interest in the live for her, “I’m hungry anyways.”
yn ends the live and lets out a sigh, she turns to look at kazuha who drinks the peach juice, “what?”
“come sit.” kazuha can’t help but giggle, she gets up from her chair and sits on yn’s lap, instantly relaxing when yn wraps her arms around her torso, “you’re so cute.”
“what?”
“you’re so obsessed with me, you had to crash my live.”
“shut up.”
the sound of yn’s stomach grumbling made kazuha turn her head back to look at the girl who shrugged “I was serious when I said I was hungry, let’s order something.”
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komaniyaexpress · 1 year ago
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— is this .. me?! .. â™Ș
sagau — they find a piece of artwork made by the creator; of .. them.
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— featuring furina, wanderer, freminet, and neuvillette .. â™Ș
cw. none wc. 200-400 ea.
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furina
it goes without saying .. furina is ecstatic. i mean.. why wouldn’t she be? she wouldn’t make this known, however, because “of course you’re going to wish to capture my enthralling beauty on paper — it’s only fair when faced with such divine radiance!” inside.. she’s a mess. her widened eyes flit over every tiny detail, every little stroke of the pen or paintbrush. “enthralling beauty”, she says, “divine radiance”, she says — but is she truly talking about herself or the way you interpreted her? never in all the centuries she’d been alive would she admit this, but she couldn’t help but feel as if you had made her look much more ethereal than she truly was. she does make it known that she likes it, though. when you turn away from her and murmur something about how you’re not the most proud of this particular piece, she scoffs indignantly. “what? how— ugh, how could you ever say such a thing? do you dare question my judgement?!” she leans back against the couch, hardly able to focus on the taste of the small pastry half-eaten in her hand. she’s incredibly grateful it’s only you two alone, because she has an entirely embarrassing blush upon her face as she chews.
wanderer
“.. seriously?” he kind of just.. glares at it. i’m sorry, but i don’t really know what you were expecting. depending on the kind of mood he’s in, he’ll either simply cast it aside without a second glance or attempt to mockingly chew you out over it. it doesn’t matter whether he actually likes it or not; he is not going to let you live it down. he’s not amused, but i can’t really imagine him actually getting upset about it either. he’ll scoff, maybe roll his eyes if he’s feeling generous enough, then go about his day without another thought to it. even with his nonchalant, near-annoyed demeanor over the whole thing, when you’ve left and he’s alone — he looks for it again and stares at it like he didn’t get to before. as his eyes travel the lines that form a quite accurate depiction of his visage — implying you spent a lot of time looking at him — he can’t help but wonder why, of all people, you chose him as your muse. he does.. appreciate the sentiment, though, even if he’ll never voice it. he catches himself before he spirals. it doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. with a huff, he sets it down again and crosses his arms, trying to ignore the fact it does indeed make him feel.
freminet
if you were expecting anything other than freminet being an absolute mess.. you’d be sorely mistaken. of course, he’s not upset at all. he’s just.. very, very embarrassed. he loves your art, he does. he doesn’t want you to misconstrue this, and makes sure you know it’s not your problem, but his own. make sure to reassure him. the moment he lays his eyes upon it, it’s evident; his eyes widen almost comically, and, suddenly, he has the surely inexplicable urge to run for his life. that wouldn’t be fair to you, though, so he bites it back and forces himself to stay put. the gears whir in his mind like he’s a piece of the machinery he holds so dear. he doesn’t know how to thank you — should he thank you? he doesn’t know what to say at all, more like. he clears his throat, unable to get any words out; his mouth goes dry and his heart practically beats out of his chest, all the while he’s looking just as frozen in time as your rendition of him. he lets out an audible sigh of relief when you reassure him that he doesn’t need to speak. he can’t handle you when you stare at him like this, and asks if you’d be okay with him putting on his diving helmet. once you’ve given him your permission — which you reiterate he doesn’t need — he quickly places it over his head, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you can no longer see his face. his gaze doesn’t leave the art, not for a moment. he stands still and stares at it, unable to tear his eyes away from the lines that, somehow, paints a clear picture of.. him. that you made. he still does not make any move to talk, and he’s very glad that you’re so understanding. eventually, he murmurs an apology, and through the lump in his throat, reassures you that (if there was ever any doubt), he likes it.
neuvillette
it was raining. it had been raining all day. naturally, this worried you, and your first thought was to check up on neuvillette. exhausted yet unchanging, neuvillette sifted through his paperwork without taking a single break to rest. however, all things must, and eventually, his tire overcame him — letting out a sigh, he placed his palm upon his forehead and leaned into it, his eyes fluttering closed. it took him a moment to open them again, but when he finally did.. after such a long day, eyes sore with the strain of reading fine print jammed together so thickly the pages looked more inky than ivory, the last thing he expected was to see was a piece of blank paper on his desk. curious, he picks it up and flips it over, assuming it to be more writing on the other side — only to be met with.. himself, staring right back at him. the neuvillette now is slightly slouched over, eyes drooping with the weight of an unrelenting week. he’s unable to see his true reflection — in a mirror or water, not a near-perfect version of him on paper — so he couldn’t really tell, but even so, he can’t help but feel as if this version of him must appear much more composed. he pushes the thought away, stares at the piece a bit closer, and he eases a bit. not only was it a splendid break to the monotony of monochromatic paperwork, it was made by you. it’s now that you walk into the room. in a split second, you realize what he’s holding. you blink. he smiles, gentle and soft. the rain stops pouring.
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