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#but now im wondering if i would appreciate that moment without this one coming before it
urdepressedslut · 8 months
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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part seven❞
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky finds you making a mess in the kitchen, attempting to bake and offers his help. The two of you get to talking and some reveals about each other begin to come out. Will he finally tell you about your stalker?
♡ Warnings: language, light angst, super fluffy, talk of parent death, mentions of guns, these two are so adorable im literally melting
Part 8
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au
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“I appreciate you passing on the message Captain, you know I’d do it personally but— I’m a busy man.” Pierce told Steve with a smirk at the end.
Steve nodded in welcome, but otherwise found it strange Pierce didn’t find the whole stalker situation concerning.
Pierce had called Steve in to make sure he had informed Bucky of the whole box— stalker thing. Pierce choosing not to do it himself, had Steve playing messenger.
“I understand sir.” Steve said lastly, turning to exit the room, knowing he shouldn’t take up too much of Pierce’s time.
“Oh and one more thing Captain,” Pierce rushed out, halting Steve in his tracks, “I need you to do something for me.”
~
“Okay a tablespoon of… wait no…” You mumbled to yourself, hands hovering over the mess that was baking supplies on the island of the kitchen.
You grabbed what you thought was an empty cup and pulled it towards your body— but you were unaware of the flour that was already filled inside.
The white powder went flying all over your front, covering your face and down your shirt— dusting onto your pants.
“Ah shit.” You mumbled under your breath.
Bucky seemed to enter at a perfect time, catching you attempting to cough away the flour on your lips— and catching you swearing which surprised him. He bit his lip, trying to keep his laugh from bubbling out.
You heard his light chuckle and glanced up, slightly embarrassed that he caught you in such a state. You were attempting to wipe away the flour from your lashes before speaking up— happy the white powder was covering your red cheeks.
“Hi James— kinda a bad time.” You chuckled, your vision still blurred with flour.
“I can see that. You need help?” He offered.
Truthfully, he’d wanted to help from the beginning but didn’t want to intrude on your time. He had to remind himself that he was strictly your bodyguard— and that didn’t mean he had to do everything you’re doing.
You smirked at his offer to help, knowing it would be a lot more fun to bake with someone. Especially if that someone was him.
“Of course, that’d be great! Thanks James!” You almost squeaked in excitement.
He wastes no time and hurried around the counter, scooting right next to you— hovering his hands over the messy island.
“It’s no problem doll— now where do we start?” He let his eyes dart to your face for a moment, knowing the nickname flustered you.
He couldn’t control the power he felt when he watched you get all ancy— loving the way your face dusted pink almost immediately.
Clearing your throat, you pointed to a recipe card hidden in the piles of flour everywhere.
“There— read me how many eggs we need.” You asked him, still attempting to wipe the white powder off your face.
He grabbed the card, shaking off the flour and squinting his eyes to read the pretty cursive writing.
Ingredients:
1 cup Unsalted Butter (softened) 1 ½ cups Sugar 2 large Eggs 2 teaspoons Vanilla 2 ¾ cup Flour 1 ½ teaspoon Cream of Tartar ½ teaspoon Baking Soda 1 teaspoon Salt
He smiled at the writing, seeing the smudges of cinnamon on the card. The warm, peppery scent filling his senses. It was clearly hand written, and he wondered if it was yours.
"It says you need two large eggs." He told you.
You coughed another cloud of flour out, causing Bucky to chuckle. He set down the recipe card, walking closer to you.
"Hold still." He told you.
Without giving it much thought, he practically pushed the front of his body to yours, his eyes focusing on your flour covered face. He grabbed a cloth and started gently wiping off the flour. He was so engrossed in his task of clearing the flour, he didn't notice your now exposed flushed cheeks.
You could feel his breath fanning your face, his breath minty from the gum he had been chewing. You felt the butterflies fluttering around violently in your stomach, the nerves filling your veins.
He wiped most of the flour off by now, his eyes narrowed in focus. He held the cloth in his metal hand, and before he could stop himself, he raised his flesh hand— rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.
The rough pad of his thumb wiped off the layer of white dust, revealing your plump bottom lip.
The act seemed innocent, but his gesture felt so intimate. The way your lip could feel his warmth through his thumb, the faintest thump of his pulse— beating into your lip. He gently pinched your bottom lip in between his pointer finger and thumb, trapping his own bottom lip in between his teeth when he heard you gasp.
Your heart was beating violently in your chest as he stared at your mouth— the way he was lost in thought for moment.
He seemed to snap out of his trance, and cleared his throat— backing away. It was only then he realized just how close he was to you.
"Sorry uh... there— I think I got it all." He said lowly.
You swallowed nervously, your cheeks a vibrant red by now. You felt like you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your lips.
"Uh yeah... two large eggs." He repeated, trying to get back on track ignore the little moment that had just happened.
You had to stop your hand from raising to smooth over your lip, wanting to ease the pleasant buzz he had left. You shook your head, attempting to clear your mind. But the butterflies kept tickling your stomach— they wouldn't slow their attack.
"O-okay good, I've got them in the fridge. Uh... how much butter again? I usually remember but it's been awhile." You laughed, happy that you didn't have any flour blurring your vision.
He skimmed the recipe card again, his tongue poking slightly out in focus. You glanced up and found the little quirk cute. He had found the butter part but decided to ask the question that was burning at the front of his mind.
"Is this your hand writing?" He asked finally.
You smiled at him, lowering your gaze to the mixing bowl in front of you. You mixed the flour around carelessly as your mind filled with sweet memories.
"No, it's my Mothers." You told him. "She has... had such beautiful hand writing."
Bucky winced slightly at your correction, and suddenly he felt bad for brining it up. He didn't want to bring the mood down— which is what he felt like he was always doing.
"Sorry I... I didn't mean to—"
You glanced up to meet his apologetic eyes and quickly reassured him.
"No, no— it's fine really... I love talking about her."
He relaxed instantly, relieved he didn't make you upset. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He nodded and let himself ask the questions that started bubbling up in his brain.
"What was she like?" He tested the waters, and by the way your smile only grew— clearly lost in thought thinking about her. He knew he was safe.
Meanwhile, you were trying to find the best way to describe her. No words could ever do her justice. She was the most incredible woman you will ever meet. She was everything you wanted to be.
"God she was... she was wonderful." You wanting to kick yourself for using such a simple word to describe the goddess that your Mother was. "She had the biggest heart... one that tended to get her in trouble."
You giggled, a certain memory popping into your head.
"Her and I were walking downtown one day and she saw a homeless man asking for money— so she gave him fifty dollars." You told the story.
"That's nice of her." Bucky thought out loud.
"Yes... But later that day we ended up getting robbed. A man held us both up at gun point— asking her for her wallet. Seems pretty typical, we didn't think too much of it. We were both shaken up— but otherwise okay." You trailed off, shivering as you remember that day so clearly.
Bucky widened his eyes, the situation sounding scary.
"Jesus..." He breathed out.
"The cops ended up catching the guy a couple days later. Through the process of questioning the man, they found out the man had watched my Mother give money to the homeless man earlier that day— and he was able to see just how much cash was in my Mother's wallet." You revealed and giggled at the next part of the story.
Bucky furrowed his brows, confused why this story was funny. But once again the sweet sound of your laugh had his mouth curving into a smile.
"What's so funny?" He wondered.
"The robbing part isn't what's making me laugh," You stated, "When my Mother got her wallet back— there was still a decent amount of cash inside. That's when I realized how bulky my Mother's wallet was— it looked like her wallet was about to give birth. I pointed it out to her and she started laughing so hard she was crying. God— I had never seen her laugh so hard."
Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but your Mother's laughter rung through your head. The tune playing like a melody— you felt warm inside just from the memory.
Bucky watched your eyes lose its light just slightly, the way your smile started to vanish by the end of your story. You sported a faraway look and he couldn't help but feel bad.
"I really miss her." You whispered, the small sound breaking his heart. "Sometimes I try to call her... and I completely forget that she isn't here anymore."
Bucky listened with heavy heart, this was sparking up memories of his own. He swallowed, feeling his emotions trying to claw their way up.
"I'd give anything to have just a little bit more time with her. I wanna actually be able to say goodbye." You confessed. "We didn't end on bad terms by any means but— I just had no idea that was going to be the last time I saw her."
You glanced up briefly, meeting his sorrowful stare. You expected to hate his pitied gaze, but you found it felt different. Your Father didn’t care— but Bucky did. There was a difference.
“She passed from a car crash.” You told him, remembering the way your Father broke the news to you. It was a horrific day.
Bucky furrowed his brows, but did his best to keep a poker face. With everything he knew— he wasn’t sure if your Mother had actually died from a car crash. There seemed to be some darker twist to this story, and again he felt bad for keeping it from you. He needed to tell you.
You didn't have time to prepare or even accept your Mother's passing. Ever since that dreadful day, time either moved in slow motion— or it sped by. Not giving you anytime to take breath. You were waiting for the day that the pain lessened. Would it ever? It didn't seem like something you were mean't to get over. You were bound to make room for the pain— knowing deep down it would never go away.
"She sounds amazing... I'm sorry you had to lose her." Bucky spoke genuinely, reaching over the counter to grab your hand.
You snapped out of your dark thoughts from his touch, and you wondered— was he always this touchy? Not that you minded it. His touch was welcomed and appreciated, his presence comforting. For once you felt good talking about her, to have someone listen. It was such a different change of pace— from how things were with your Father.
"You know I'm strong believer on everything happens for a reason, but I've yet to find the reason for her being gone."
Bucky didn’t know how to respond, knowing whatever he came up with wouldn’t be much comfort— so he squeezed your hand instead. Letting you know he was still here— listening.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to get all sappy… it’s just nice to have someone to talk to. Especially about my Mother and all that.” You trailed off. “If I’m ever rambling about god knows what— just tell me to stop and I will. I know I can get annoying, but I don’t mean to be.”
Bucky’s heart broke. Angry at whoever made you feel that way, that you needed to be silenced. He had a good idea on who— but kept the thought to himself. Knowing that Pierce seemed to be a sensitive topic— well depending on the day.
“You don’t have to apologize for talking.” He simply said, his eyes occasionally darting down to your still attached hands.
He was just trying to give you some comfort… yeah.
You smiled at him, squeezing his hand back and then letting go.
“Well still…” You tried to argue, but couldn’t come up with any reasonable answer.
The room filled with a comfortable silence— the baking plans forgotten. The quiet let you think clearly, and the first thing that came to mind was the earlier events. You weren’t hiding any big secret— but you felt bad that you had spied on him.
“Hey James?” You broke the silence.
He was already looking at you during the moment of quiet and just raised his brows— hoping you didn’t catch him staring.
“Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something… just please don’t get mad— I didn’t mean to. I happened to walk downstairs at the wrong time and—” You started rambling and Bucky came to your rescue.
“(Y/n)— I won’t get mad. Just tell me.” He playfully rolled his eyes, which made you giggle.
“Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat, stomach full of nerves that really weren’t necessary. “I kinda listened in on your conversation with that guy today.”
Bucky didn’t know what you were going to say— but he was definitely not expecting that. His jaw clenched and his eyes squinted, but it wasn’t out of anger. It was embarrassment. He didn’t know why he felt so flustered by the idea that you had heard him— truthfully he didn’t remember all that he said. But he knew he was speaking in defense of you.
You watched his features morph into what you thought was anger and swallowed anxiously.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t get mad.” You said quietly, hoping that you wouldn’t poke the bear into a full angry frenzy.
He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, your small voice bringing him back to the moment.
“Doll— (Y/n)… I’m not mad.” He told you truthfully, his face felt hot with embarrassment.
You looked at him with confusion, his words not matching up with the way he was looking.
“You sure? You got your angry eyes on.” You tried to joke, but asked seriously.
He let out of breath, running a hand through his hair— making it spike up slightly.
“Yeah, I promise I’m not mad.” He assured you.
“But then why did you have angry ey—”
“(Y/n)… I’m not mad! I’m…” He trailed off, “I’m embarrassed.”
You softened your gaze, watching his face flush. You didn’t want him to feel bad— if anything you were happy that he had stuck up for you. You wondered why he would be embarrassed.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed James… I actually think it was super sweet of you to defend me like that. No one ever has.” You told him.
He glanced up finally to you, not surprised to find your gaze warm and comforting. He felt the embarrassment fading away— but not completely.
“Well… I’m still embarrassed.” He mumbled, pretending to focus on the baking ingredients instead of your intense gaze.
“Don’t be. You have done more for me than my…” You trailed off, swallowing through the sudden tightness in your throat, “Than my own Father. I’m extremely grateful and lucky to have you around. Please don’t be embarrassed James, I appreciate having you here with me.”
Your confession left him speechless, and suddenly the room felt hotter. His eyes dilated— like he was in a trance. He could almost feel the chemicals in his brain shifting— and suddenly he was starting to see you in a completely different light.
Oh— he was fucked.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” He responded finally, his true answer not wanting to make its appearance.
You just smiled back and tried to focus back on baking— though neither of you cared much about the baking anymore. You both found yourselves entrapped in each other. Conversation flowed so smoothly, the way it came so naturally and easy. It was so welcoming.
The room was settling into silence again and this time, it gave Bucky time to drown in his thoughts. He needed to tell you— he was just afraid what the outcome would be. He feared Pierce would send him away— or worse. It was rare you hear one of his men go against his orders and live the next day.
At the end of the day, he wanted to do what’s right. He didn’t have a problem with lying— most of his life had been playing a part. But with you, he felt he couldn’t keep up the lie. The guilt and shame are away at him, knowing you didn’t deserve to have this kept from you. He knew the longer it was kept from you— the harder it would be when the moment finally came.
“(Y/n)… I need to tell you something.” He started, gaining your attention.
You raised your brows, waiting patiently for him to speak. You were slightly concerned, but trusted it wasn’t anything that bad.
Bucky felt extremely nervous— the devil and angel on his shoulders screaming into his ears. It was the right thing to do… but the outcome would be disastrous.
“(Y/n) there is someone—”
The doorbell rung suddenly, making you and Bucky jump in fright. So lost in the moment you had forgotten you weren’t just in a world where it was just you two.
You were slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to finish his thought— but knew he’d tell you eventually. Bucky bit his lip in frustration, the timing of everything just perfect. He motioned for you to go upstairs.
“I’ll get the door, you head upstairs.” He told you, and you nodded your head— ditching all the baking supplies and immediately trudged up the stairs.
Bucky waited until you vanished down the hallway, before he made his way to the door. The silhouette on the other side didn’t look like Steve’s— which is who he thought was at the door. Peeking through the frosty glass, he was shocked to find it was Pierce.
Well fuck.
Opening the door, Pierce stood— many of his men guarding the front entrance behind him.
“Mr. Barnes…” He started and walked closer to him, “We have much to discuss.”
Bucky wasn’t sure what he had come here for, but considering he was physically here and not sending on of his men— it wasn’t good. He knew it could be just business talk, but with the smirk Pierce sported— Bucky felt his throat tighten with nerves.
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amoristt · 8 months
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a/n: yaaay back with part 2 hehehe. im glad you guys r enjoying it so far! i have big plans for this series
- as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - want to support me? heres my kofi!
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The Accused | Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Pt 2
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The hours that followed Ghost leaving you to your own were brutal. It took a few long moments to collect yourself, all tears and trembling hands, but eventually, your legs found the strength to haul your body up to your feet. Your mind replays the last couple minutes on loop tauntingly.
If Ghost hadn't caught you in time, you'd be nothing but a broken egg on the pavement below. Your brain tried to think about what it would have felt like if you had plummeted without haste, but your body reminded you angrily how it felt to hit the wall on your way down. Surely, deep bruises of purple and blue would climb like vines up the side of your frame. Your body would make sure to ache, to remind you of the damage you'd inflicted onto it.
Damaged, but alive.
It feels odd being alive, now. You really had made your choice, fully accepted the gravity of your life cut short. Perhaps it was cowardly. But, ultimately, you knew that it would have been the better outcome between death and eternal imprisonment.
Still, guilt eats away at you. The image of Ghost's eyes through his mask haunts you- that primal fear in those beautiful eyes engraved in the back of your brain. If he hadn't been as fast- if he'd hesitated for even a second, you'd have slipped right through his fingers. You'd have dropped all the way down to the unforgiving concrete and ceased to be right in front of him. It hurts you- the thought of him grieving you like that. Surely he would have hated you for it.
When night came (rather quickly), you took your chance to escape. Wherever point 'A' was, it wasn't so nearby you couldn't scurry down those five flights of stairs and dart into the darkness. You ran from bush to bush, building to building, and even through a knee-deep marsh. You were grateful that this October was warm, but you would be lying to say you appreciated the bugs. Mosquitos ate away at your skin despite your efforts to battle them away.
You'd only been a few miles away from base, so it wasn't long before you were skirting along the trees, staring at the mile-high electric fences surrounding the fort you'd become so familiar with. The base you and Ghost had been staying at was a nice one- with all the fixings and even single-person 'homes'. They were small, one-bedroom trailer-looking flats with all the basic necessities, but compared to the places you'd slept before they may have well as been your own little personal heaven. Warm water and an AC unit-they'd spoiled you and your fellow soldiers. You remember on your first night, cuddled up under the blankets on your very own bed, praying they'd keep you stationed here for the rest of your military days.
But, now, here you were, creeping along the greenery, feeling more foe than friend. From outside, you could see military vehicles parking for the night and soldiers standing guard. Sneaking up on your own base, your own friends, you really did feel like a spy. You linger outside, wondering what to do.
Then it hits you.
And you know exactly where to go.
You disappear back into the trees. It's barely another mile out, but with just the moon overheard to guide you, you struggle to find your way. You pass by trees and boulders of every size, before you enter a small clearing, and tucked all the way to the side is exactly what you were looking for. A dingy half-finished shed engulfed by the canopy of trees and shadows.
And god, there he is, standing there and waiting for you.
In this light, Ghost really does look like he could be a monster. His mask nearly glows. Half covered by murky shadows, dotted by the glowing streaks of the moon passing through the leaves overhead, he stands and waits for you. Like he knew you were coming.
And he was right. Because here you were.
You snap a twig on accident and his body visibly tenses as he searches for the source, but when his eyes find your figure in the darkness it only takes a second for him to realize it's you.
"Been a while since I've been here," you start. He moves to the side as you pass him. The door opens with a dull creak.
"I'm glad we both had the same idea." Ghost grunts.
"You're telling me. I had to ditch my phone and everything, so if you weren't here I'd have no way of contacting you. And y'know what, that's two phones in two months. Talk about bad luck." You sigh.
"Never did find you're old one, hm? Not good, soldier."
"Oh, I'm sure it's lost in the ocean or blown to bits by now."
Ghost scoffs. "Hope so. Get inside."
When you'd first been stationed at his base, boredom often ate away at you until it felt like you'd go crazy. Ghost had been off on his own mission, the few friends you did have at that time never left the base of their own volition. But you, on the other hand, craved exploration. So you found yourself wandering the perimeter around the base, thinking about nothing and everything. That's when you discovered the beat-up old shed. At that time it was nothing more than a caved-in roof, rain-soaked flooring, and a broken window. Over the course of a couple weeks, you began to work to fix it up, glad to have something to focus on during your between-missions time.
When Ghost had returned to base during Christmas, and he realized that you too had no home to return to for the holidays, he began to join you.
Over that Christmas, you both turned it into somewhere you could both go to talk and occasionally share a few drinks. That was when you'd truly bonded with him. That was when he'd finally started letting you in willingly.
Dirt flecks off the frame of the door as you step inside, and it's just as dusty as you remember. Two chairs sit in the center with patchy blankets serving as cushions. An uneven table sits between them, one leg broken half off but supported by water-logged books stacked atop each other.
The moon filters in through the cracked window and paints the brown walls a beautiful blue.
Ghost sits with a grunt, kicking his feet out and sighing. It invites you, calls you in to shut the door behind you and settle beside him. So, you do. The chair creaks underneath your weight and you breathe out the frustrations of the day, gone into the air. For the first time that day, your guard lowers.
You just... breathe.
"What a nightmare this is." You sigh.
Ghost shrugs. "No one knows what 't think. They know something's not right."
A pang of relief visibly flushes through you, cut short when he shakes his head.
"Don't get too excited." He says quietly.
"...And why's that?"
"Graves called in his shadows." Ghost taps his finger against the table, lingering, picking and choosing his next words while you feel anxiety start to bubble within you. When he speaks again, it's forlorn. "He isn't exactly pushing for 'em to bring you in alive."
The weight of your heart dropping could have burst straight through the chair you sat on. It settles into your gut like an awful stone. A dull, pained chuckle escapes you.
"I knew he didn't like me, but damn."
Ghost shakes his head. "He's panicking. Thinks you can tell us where the missiles are."
"Missiles?" You ask, eyebrows raised in concern.
It must have struck him then, that Ghost hadn't yet updated you on the situation arising off-air. And judging by the way he tenses and leans forward in his chair, it must be pretty grim.
"Hassan... He's got our missiles. Three of 'em." As Ghost speaks with newfound hesitation and urgency, you can feel your nerves lighting up with each syllable. "We can't find the damn things. They get out... 'Lot of people will die."
"Jesus Christ." You wipe your palms down your face, eyebrows knit together. "How the hell did he get our missiles?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out. 'Pparently there's some messages and photos of you chatting with one of Hassan's men. That you might know a thing or two on where to find 'em."
"I haven't talked to anyone that wasn't our own." You groan. "God, what the fuck. And pictures?"
"From what I heard. They haven't shown 'em to us. Refuse to, actually." Ghost leans back in his chair, eyeing you like he's holding something back. "Like I said, no one knows what to think."
You stare down at your lap. Though you already know the answer, you find yourself asking anyways, with an uneven voice.
"...You trust me, right...?"
"God's sake." He scoffs, and you regret asking at all.
"I just have to be sure. Pictures can be convincing-"
"Pictures none of us have even laid eyes on. You think I'd be here right now if I didn't believe you?"
Guilt eats away at you, eyes downcast. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I can't wrap my head around why of all people it had to be me."
"We'll find out. Shepherd won't give us hardly any information, and anything he does give us is... vague." Ghost is choosy with his words. "...Shepherd found and turned the evidence in himself, supposedly."
You feel an actual strike of nausea pulse through you.
"There's no way Shepherd would frame me." Though you try to say it with an even tone, your voice exposes your lack of confidence in your General. You suck in a breath when there's no reply. "Ghost..?"
Ghost doesn't answer, but his eyes do flick to yours. A silent, cautious confirmation.
You swallow. Hard.
"But... But what good could come of this? I mean up until now I've been an exemplary soldier. Like, not to brag here, but I graduated at the fucking top of my squad and I damn well aced every test they threw at me."
"I know all this." Ghost chimes. "Everyone knows all of this. I don't know what the big plan is. I don't even know if there is a big plan. I just know something isn't right."
There's a pause, and his eyes soften.
"I know you wouldn't do this."
Tears well at the waterlines of your eyes and you struggle to hold them back. With the military against you, Shadow's snapping at your heels at every chance they could get, and now faced with the chance that your own fucking general would frame you, you're completely unsure of what to do next. Ghost leans over the table and sets a firm hand on your shoulder.
You bite your tears back, refusing to let him witness you cry again. Twice in one day was just too much on your already shattered ego.
"What do I do?" Your voice betrays you, uneven and breaking.
Ghost stands up and sighs. "You aren't doing anything. You're staying here."
"For real?" You frown up at him, pawing at your eyes angrily. The sight of him preparing to leave makes your stomach churn- the thought of being alone in this shed all night slinking into your mind. "I can't just sit here and do nothing-"
"That's exactly what you're gonna do. Get some rest, tonight." Ghost doesn't even give you the chance to argue, already pulling the door open. You gape at him from your chair with wet eyes. You see the way he lingers, see the way he considers stepping back inside, but his resolve remains firm. For just a brief moment, he turns to look at you from outside.
You sit on the chair, bringing your knees up to your chest. Sounds from all directions reach your waiting ears as you take a final glance at him.
"I'll be back in the morning." He offers. The door shuts, and darkness encases you.
Shrouded in pitch black, listening to the sound of his footsteps growing further and further away, you fear tears sting your eyes once more. All alone, you let them slip down your cheeks.
You'd never felt so alone.
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mysticalsoot · 7 months
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you changed, it's good
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A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf
summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur
tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything
words; 1.8k
pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader
pronouns; none!
masterlist
—★—
The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.
Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.
You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before". 
Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.
"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.
"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.
"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."
His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?
"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."
"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.
"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.
You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"
His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best." 
You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.
You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.
"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."
You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.
You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug. 
What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.
"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more. 
"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.
"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.
You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.
"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."
He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."
“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.
“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.
“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."
He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"
"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.
He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.
He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have. 
There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.
"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.
taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy
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honeylations · 8 months
Text
- All of Your Attention -
REQUESTED - @jejenesblog
NICHA YONTARARAK (MINNIE) x FEM!READER
Prompt: Minnie invites you to her group’s comeback celebration dinner, but she doesn’t appreciate the way you ‘flirt’ with Miyeon. She decided to do something about it >:)
Warnings/Notes: dom Minnie, jealousy, smut, fingering, mommy kink
———
“Thank you for inviting me guys, I really appreciate it” You shyly say, fidgeting with the promise ring on your index finger that Minnie got you last year’s anniversary.
Miyeon smiled and gently grabbed your hand across the table, rubbing her thumb across it. “No need to thank us, Y/n”
It didn’t bother Minnie at how close your friendship was with the other girls, she knew better than to be jealous but she couldn’t control the yucky feeling in her stomach when the eldest member decided to lock your fingers together while conversing about a nail salon you recently went to.
The Thai member chewed on her lower lip before grabbing the menu and inching it towards you. “My love, would you like me to order your favourite champagne?”
Unfortunately you were too lost in your conversation and the yucky feeling in Minnie started to worsen when you reached over the table to tuck a strand of Miyeon’s hair behind her ear.
“Hey babe I asked you a question…” Minnie pouted, finally getting your attention.
“Oh sorry! What did you ask again?”
“If you wanted me to order your favourite champagne?”
“Oooh” You hummed before looking at Miyeon with wide eyes. “Did you want some Miyeon? I promise you it tastes amazing”
Minnie frowned.
“Yeah of course! With these busy schedules, I haven’t drank in a while”
You laughed and continued playing with her hands, unaware of the sharp glare your girlfriend was giving between the two of you.
“I just realised how different you look from the first time we met. Your new hair colour suits you a lot” Miyeon complimented, making you blush.
“Really? Thank you! I was worried it wouldn’t look that good but you suit every hair colour I swear! My favourite was your blonde era”
“I do miss the blonde sometimes but I was gonna go bald if I kept it” Miyeon chuckled as you reached over to run your fingers through her hair again.
“The black hair looks great too-“
“I’m gonna go fix my makeup. Come help me too, Y/n” Minnie abruptly stood up, her tone cold as ice.
“Are you okay, Minnie?” Yuqi asked but got ignored
“Im talking to Miyeon though..” You replied, wondering why Minnie had called you by your first name instead of the usual ‘Princess’ and ‘my love’.
“I don’t think I gave you an option” Minnie spoke before walking off to the restroom.
You sighed and stood up, sending a short apology to the other members before quickly following your angry girlfriend.
Luckily, it was one of those restrooms that only had one large cubicle so the moment you walked in, you found your girlfriend adjusting her lashes in the mirror.
“Lock the door.” She ordered without looking at you and you immediately obeyed.
“What’s wrong?”
The Thai girl sighed and turned around, leaning her back against the sink while crossing her arms, gaze colder than ever. “I don’t like how touchy you were with Miyeon”
“What, babe you can’t be serious”
“Oh I’m dead serious. I invited you to this dinner to be by my side, aka your girlfriend if I must remind you”
“This is ridiculous. Fix yourself right now, I’m going back—What, hey!” Your words were cut off the moment you reached for the door, finding yourself pinned against it, your back pressed close to your girlfriend’s front.
“Don’t tell me to fix myself when you were the one touching my member, fucking brat. You’re mine, do you hear me?” She hissed in your ear, right hand reaching underneath your dress, two fingers rubbing at your clothed pussy.
“M-Minnie!”
Her left hand wrapped around your throat, forcing your head to tilt back and meet her lips. Her kiss was possessive, aggressive, yet so hot. Minnie pulled away, smirking at the way you were grinding into her fingers and a whine escaping your lips.
“God, look at you. Just a minute ago you were acting like some bratty princess, now here you are wanting to have my fingers up your tight cunt, isn’t that right my love?”
You could only roll your eyes back and cry when your girlfriend pushed your panties aside and pushed two fingers inside knuckle deep, adoring the way your cheeks flushed pink and the way your mouth hung open.
“I think it’ll be better for you to see how much of a slut you are, no? Here, look baby. Look at the mirror” You felt her smile against your ear when she turned you both around so now that your lewd moment was shown in the bathroom mirror.
You opened your eyes and felt yourself grow embarrassingly wetter by the scene. Minnie’s long fingers deep inside you, moving at such a pleasuring speed while she continued to choke you, her lips moving down to litter your neck with purple marks that you knew were going to have difficulty in covering.
“B-Baby, oh my god!” You moaned so deliciously.
“Aw that’s not my name. Come on, my love. Say it. Say the name you know you love calling me”
“F-Fuck! I…I can’t Min…n-not here!”
“It’s either you fucking say it and get to cum or I’ll pull out right now and let you finish off by yourself. Your choice…but make the right one” She growled.
“N-No I wanna cum! I wanna cum so bad, Min, please don’t stop” You panted, holding her wrist and trying to force her to go faster and deeper but she didn’t budge.
“Then be a good girl. Don’t you want to cum all over my fingers, darling? Wont you let me have a taste, hm?”
You nodded rapidly, leaning your head back into her chest.
“Then. Say. It.” Minnie said every word through gritted teeth, pulling her fingers away before shoving it back in one harsh motion.
“M-Mommy! Just like that please Mommy!” You finally let out.
“There it is, my good girl” Minnie chuckled in your ear, finally giving you what you wanted and rapidly pounding her fingers inside.
“Y-Yes yes yes! Fuck yes, mommy!”
“Shhh, not too loud now, darling. Don’t wanna get kicked out”
“I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum!” You cried, tilting your head up, giving the hint to your girlfriend that you wanted to taste her sweet lips.
“Aw you wanna kiss me baby?” She chuckled and you could only nod, begging with your hooded eyes. “How could I say no to that?”
She leant her face down and connected your lips in a sloppy kiss, her fingers never stopping. Everything was too much for you.
The way your tongues danced, the fast hard movements of her fingers, the noises, and the general fact you two were fucking in a public restroom, your mind was going insane.
“Cumming!” You whispered after Minnie pulled her mouth away, your legs shook as your orgasm hit you hard.
Minnie hummed with content when she felt your white liquid drown her fingers, dripping down to her palm and even onto the bathroom floor. Your weak body laid against her’s, your chest heaving up and down with tiredness, but your girlfriend’s deep voice had reached your ears despite your almost-passing-out state.
“As much as I’d love to go home and continue, we have a dinner celebration to finish”
“Can’t believe you fingered me in a public restroom just because you were jealous” you huffed out, fixing your panties and dress, trying to look decent.
“And? I’ll do it again if I see you getting all handsy with Miyeon”
You playfully rolled your eyes and pecked the taller’s lips. “I’m yours, okay? Remember that. Now please clean your hand for the love of God”
Miyeon looked at her hand and totally forgot it was covered in your mess. She didn’t hesitate to bring it up to her mouth and start licking it clean, making your face go insanely red.
“Wash your hands too” You scolded.
Minnie laughed and did as told before you both headed back to the table hand in hand. The members looked at you with wide smirks.
“What took so long huhhhhh?” Shuhua asked with an annoying smile, resting her chin in her hand.
“Finally finished touching up your make up, Minnie?” Soyeon wiggled her eyebrows.
“Or finally finished touching up Y/n?” Yuqi added, sending the entire table into laughter and shoulder slaps.
“Ugh shut up all of you. Can we order now? I’m starving” Minnie groaned, sitting down with you at the table.
“How could you be starving? Did Y/n not give you enough of herself?” Miyeon added, snickering afterwards.
“Miyeon, there is a steak knife right here and I’ll show you where it goes if you don’t shut up” Minnie threatened and you placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Do it then, bitch—“
“Hey stop it you two. Let’s enjoy the rest of tonight, okay?” You scolded, pointing your finger at the two G-Idle members.
They both nodded obediently.
You sat back with a sigh and flinched when you felt Minnie’s fingers hiking up your dress again. You pinched her side with an angry look. “Stop or else we’re not doing a round two”
“Awe what! But babe!”
‘Baby in the streets, Mommy in the sheets’ you thought in your head.
A/N: Hellowwww this is my first time doing a request! I hope it was good enough T^T love yous!
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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year
Text
!Bakugou with a reader who has a “hyper feminine pink sanrio themed room"!
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scenario:-bakugou with a reader who has a sanrio themed room and is scared to show him~
pairing:- bakugou x gn!reader
this was written for @cloudy-zephyr who has allowed me to post it here!
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You were the pinky pink one if the bakusquad
Okay so was mina but like YOU were mainly the pink sanrio one
Soo everyone was PRETTY FUCKIN CONFUSED when u and bakugou ended up dating
Everyone wondered how the hello kitty kid managed to snag the orange and black colour scheme dominated explosion murder god
But despite everyone’s whispers,yall were a happy couple
Bakugou never made u feel like ur likes were TOO feminine or like it annoyed him
But u made sure that he didnt come to ur room often
Makin sure that if he was pickin u up for dates youd be ready five mins before he came to immediately come out the door without him getting a peak inside
You really REALLY liked bakugou and you didnt want to lose him over something as ‘silly’ as an ‘overly feminine pink sanrio themed room’
But one fine day(as fate would have it!)you fell asleep at his place after a movie with the bakusquad
He was all for u spending the night but his friends were just bein too dam loud😑
So he did the very rational normal thing of pickin u up (bridal style!) and takin u to ur room
He had a key of his own,for emergencies ofcc.
And the moment he stepped in and (somehoww) switched on he light,he was BLINDED by colour
And well
SANRIO
he looked around curiously as you lay asleep in his arms and just as he was abt to place u on ur pink cinnamonroll-sheet-clad bed u tightened ur grip on his arm(when did u grab his armm???) he knew pulling away would wake u
It always did,you could just sense eachother like that
Even in sleep
So he saw no other choice but to climb on in
He switched off ur lil lamp and got into ur bed
The introduction of his weight to the bed causing plushies to spill out off the bed and onto the floor
Luckily they didnt make a sound
And just like that he fell asleep while studying ur room even in the darkness
The next morning you were confused as to how u hd gotten back to ur room and when you looked to ur right u saw how...
FUCK was the first word to cross it mind
But bakugou seemed to be peacefully asleep so u decided to either just not address it or address it later
Later in the day when u woke up he was gone, a lil note left on ur bedside table telling u he went out
And when he got back you seemed nervous and on edge
This
Worried him
You were always so cool and chill but now you were the exact opposite
He dropped the bag that he was holding and rushed over to you,cupping your face
"What happened?"
"Nothing, dont worry"
"y/n...."
"Okayy i just okqy its stupid but i just didnt want u to see my room cos like i dont wanna piss you off and annoy you and then lose you and-"
"Woah woah woah. Lose me???? y/n im not gonna leave u ovet a fuckin decoration style choice whatever its called"
"I love you for YOU not ur room"
You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and determination
"Okay🥺"
"Oh and," he said as he went back to the bagel he’d dropped
"This is for you,"
You took the bag with a suspicious look and a thank you
You opened it and lo and behold
SANRIO PLUSHIESSS
you were ECSTATIC
You jumped into his arms and kissed him all over his face(like in those silly lil cartoons)
"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU I LOVE YOU KATSUKIIIIIII"
pfft I love you too y/n he said with a half smile and little laugh
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please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.
feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!
Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please
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piss-wizard-ao3 · 4 months
Text
dndads s2ep45 spoilers
re: that one quote that absolutely emotionally obliterated a decent chunk of the fandom
alright fuckin bear with me i have some Thoughts and Feelings about particularly how the Close-Foster-Swifts deal with a) parenting and b) intergenerational trauma Anthony: 'As you're saying this, without even wanting it to, tears are rolling down your cheeks. And in that moment, you, and Taylor, and Nick all realise... That there is no fixing this. That this is as good as it's going to get. That you are stuck with each other in the forms that you are now.' this fucking DESTROYED ME and, from what i can tell, a lot of other people in the fandom also. i think this brings up some really important points that resonate w/ me personally about intergenerational trauma, and that are super important to talk about like with the wilsons and the oaks, they manage to (in varying degrees) realise what they did wrong, or what they could do better, and actively try to do better. they actively try to go out of their way to fix things, which is great! breaking that cycle is important, and it takes a while, but they're trying. with the stamplers (+ marlowes), specifically ron and terry jr, they do the 'acknowledging i havent been good enough' to 'trying my best to be what you deserve' pipeline and its Beautiful. and we get a little of that with terry jr and scary too, with terry jr just trying to do his best and scary slowly coming around to realise that she does, actually, care about her stepdad. and its so wholesome and good. it really pays homage to the ron and terry jr relationship i feel, where they end up before he died (F). BUT THE CLOSE/FOSTER/SWIFT FAMILY. i fucking. it hurts. but its the one that hits the closest to home. 'This is as good as it's going to get' fucking resonated with me. im sure it resonated with a lot of people. intergenerational trauma and the effects it has on people is such a core theme of dndads, and the way its handled so differently through each family line is honestly artful. but an important part of the story of intergenerational trauma is when it's not something that you can fix, or go back and apologise for, or something that you can become better from. sometimes trauma just is. sometimes you can't recover from it. families will break up, lineages will die out, stories and lives will be forgotten. and as tragic as that is, as much as it hurts, it's so real. in a way, its a double-edged sword that they all still talk to each-other, that they still cling to what they have, what they wanted to have. especially in the case of Taylor, who does spend a lot of the series with questions about his dad but ultimately thinking he's pretty neat, to then break down to wishing there was time travel so Nicky could be there for him, so they could re-do childhood. i just. screams. thats such a pivotal moment for him. to finally come to terms with and admit the fact that no, things aren't okay, this isn't what he wanted, and if given the chance he would go back and fix them himself. that his father, and his father's father, have failed to do it, and now it falls upon his shoulders. (this also resonates very well with the whole 'our parents unleashed the doodler and both our grandparents and parents failed to fix it so now that's our burden to bear') i wonder if we'll ever get to know if the teens from this series go on to have families. if Lincoln ever introduces his children to grandpa Grant, or if Normal ever feels, well. normal enough to even consider the possibility of raising kids. if Scary ever takes her children to visit Terry Jr's grave, or tells them about his exploits, or recounts to them the things he did for her before she grew to appreciate him. i wonder if Taylor will ever even consider the concept of having a family, upon looking back like this at his own, upon knowing first-hand the stakes if he gets it wrong. would he think that he can break the cycle? that he could be better? or is it, truly, as good as it's going to get?
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lets-just-daydream · 1 year
Note
hi!!! could you write mista comforting a team member he has a crush on? i’ve been having a rough time with confidence and i love him sooo much lol. i completely understand if this request makes you uncomfortable!! thanks anyway <3
shit fam im back
*
It was a really difficult mission. Yes you got it done, yes it could have been cleaner and yes it could have been more discrete. But you got it done.
You made it back into the Passione mansion and dropped onto an armchair, year body feeling like lead. You did not want to face a debriefing with Giorno right now. You just knew he would want every detail from you firsthand and that was not something you could handle.
Lately, it seemed like your job was getting harder and you were struggling to keep your head above water. You loved your team. You loved Giorno, he could be a hardass but he took care of you all. You loved Trish, she always had your back and she felt like the best sister you'd ever had. And… Mista. You loved him. You loved him differently to how you loved Trish and Giorno. He just got you, he was extra nice to you and he was really pretty. Like, really really pretty.
You let out a sigh as you thought of him, the thought that maybe one day you'd be lucky enough for him to feel the same. Not likely. But it was a nice thought. A fleeting thought. Then you remembered that you were wondering about your future in Passione. Did you truly belong here?
"You look like you're on some wild emotional rollercoaster," a sudden voice chuckled.
You looked up to see Mista looking down at you with a glass of water in hand. His iconic hat had been abandoned somewhere and you took a moment to appreciate the thick curls on his head. So pretty…
"Yeah I'm just… going over the mission in my head before I see Giorno," you fibbed.
"Ah," Mista hummed, sitting on the armchair beside yours and handing you the water. "How was it?"
You took a few gulps and put the glass down. "It was a shitshow," you replied glumly. "Feels like all my missions are shitshows these days."
Mista leaned forward and clasped his hands together as he listened.
"I'm…" You whispered, hesitating. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. You and Giorno, and even Trish. You're naturals at this but I… I just suck at this."
Mista's brows furrowed and he gulped before resting a hand atop yours. "I totally get it. But I- we love you. You're great and without you we'd fall apart. A couple of bad days is nothing."
You looked up at Mista with a smile as your heart fluttered.
"I believe in you. And I'd hate it if you left me," Mista said quietly.
"I'd hate to leave you behind, too," you confessed.
Mista locked eyes with you and he let out a nervous chuckle. "And Giorno and Trish, yeah."
"Well yeah," you said slowly, leaning closer to him. "But you especially."
Mista matched your leaning body until you were almost face-to-face and he gulped. "Really?"
You nodded and let your eyes flutter shut, your heart beating rapidly. You felt Mista's breath ghost over your lips and his nose touch yours softly.
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and you and Mista shot apart, breathing heavily as you glared at the intruder.
Giorno stood in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned on the wood of the entry.
"I've been waiting for you for a debrief," Giorno said coolly, but with a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Come fill me in and then you can get back to… whatever it is you were doing." He turned on his heel and you knew that was your queue to follow.
You shot Mista an apologetic look and he grinned back sheepishly, not trusting his voice.
"I promise I'll be right back," you said, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
You heard Giorno call your name once again and you rushed away, leaving Mista to touch the spot on his cheek you'd just kissed.
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as8bakwthesage · 7 months
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Who's Sage? (Rogues! the Podcast ONE-SHOT)
Suzie’s Square was a bar that was stuck in the nastier parts of Gotham City. Not the most popular spot, especially compared to the Iceberg Lounge, but it was comfortable and small and people didn’t stare. Whether you were a regular looking fellow or a freak of nature, most people who frequented this establishment had seen it all. 
It was the spot for two friends to hang out.
“So there I was, facing the jerk, and ready to throw my bike at ‘im!” Waylon Jones recounted facing Sage Treedear as he told his tale. The enbie smiled at the humour in his voice as he seemed to be recounting a more positive story.
“Did you throw it?” They asked.
“Oh you bet I did! David was the meanest kid I knew, and you know ol’ Waylon ain’t gonna take some punk’s nasty words!” The reptilian-looking man replied, sounding proud of himself. Sage’s smile widened as they took a sip of their fruity drink of choice.
“Kid had it coming,” they concurred. Waylon nodded.
“Ya don’t say! But sadly I almost got suspended. My daddy had to talk to the principal and all. A real mess, but one I look back at with a smile.” He concluded, before gesturing to them. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Sage replied, raising an amused brow. 
“You got any stories you wanna share?” 
Sage paused at that, trying to think of something interesting that had happened lately. But all they could think of immediately was the madness that had happened at Arkham with the lockdown, and they weren’t even present for that. However, another story came to mind as they thought about it.
“I discovered something disgusting about a rich prick – he tried to cover up the fact that he recently raped this girl.” Sage recalled, their smile fading. Waylon’s own smile vanished instantly as he looked downright vicious, though he did not scare Sage in the slightest. They smiled at that though, before taking another sip. “Don’t worry, he’s never going to hurt anybody again.”
At that Waylon smiled satisfied before he shook his head in disgust, “How anybody can do that is beyond me. What a piece of shit. Glad he’s gone.” He commented. Sage noted his frustration and exhaled through their nose in agreement. 
“Gotham’s a cesspit, Waylon. It wriggles and writhes beneath the heels of the uber rich and criminals. So many different kinds of monsters thrive here and so few of their crimes go unpunished…” Sage explained, feeling tired as they nursed their fruity drink of choice.
“I hear ya,” Waylon Jones interrupted their thoughts as he sighed, “It’s tough. But ya seem to be doing alright!”
“Not anymore than I usually am…” They responded, their energy gone as they eyed the glass. Waylon didn’t speak for a moment and when he did, he sounded concerned.
“Hey Sage?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been taking your meds, right?” He asked. Sage looked up at him, wondering why he’d ask them that. But as they considered his question, they realised why. With a reassuring smile, they nodded.
“Yeah, I’m good, Waylon. Thanks for checking in.” Sage thanked. 
“Well, now, I gotta. Nobody else looks after you, so ol’ Waylon’s gotta!” He chuckled. 
Despite the ugliness of Gotham, there was a beauty to it that Sage felt had often gone unnoticed. The people who lived there were resilient as all hell, and especially their dear friend Waylon. 
Sage had met Waylon when they were 19, fresh out of jail and in a horrible place mentally. Waylon had been their saviour, taking them in and making sure they got proper help. Sage knew that without Waylon, they wouldn’t have been there to enjoy the drinks they were having with the man. It was funny how life worked out – a giant reptile looking guy helping out a then twig of a person. Everyone feared him except for Sage. Not much could or would surprise them anymore. They’d lived through so much nonsense as a result of living in this ridiculous city. 
“I really appreciate that, Waylon.” They said sincerely. Waylon’s smile turned sad and that caused alarms to go off in Sage’s head. 
“What’s wrong?” They asked, concerned. Waylon sighed heavily. 
“I uh… I had to let my ducks go…” he replied, quickly. Sage blinked in surprise before they themselves looked sad as well. 
“Wait, why?” They said, obviously upset. 
“It… it wasn’t fair to keep ‘em cooped up. They were getting big.” Waylon explained. Sage watched him before they realised something. 
“Is that why you invited me out so early in the day?” They asked gently. He nodded wordlessly. “Oh, you poor dear…”
“Well, it was the right thing to do, ya know?” Waylon said, though despite his words being positive, his tone was anything but. 
“Of course, but it’s important to grieve…” Sage expressed. The two sat in silence as the enbie tried to think of something that could cheer up their friend. With a warm smile, they leaned in to wrap an arm around his own. “Tell you what, let’s go!”
“Where we going?” Waylon asked, confused. Sage slapped a twenty on the counter before hopping off their chair.
“We’re gonna go toss some stones in the river!”
///
“I didn’t think ya were serious.”
Both Waylon and Sage sat at the bank of the Gotham river and both were chucking stones at the waters, trying to see who could do the most impressive skips. Sage smiled at his comment before tossing another flat stone, watching it skip four times before it sank. 
“I always am!” Sage joked, before gesturing for his turn. He flicked the stone and it beat Sage’s skips by one. The enbie pouted with good humour as they realised that he had won this round. 
“Seriously, thank you. This is a lot better than a bar right now. Quieter and less people.” Waylon expressed honestly. Sage couldn’t help but smile at that, happy to see him in even a slightly better mood. 
“Definitely.” Sage agreed with a giggle. 
“Waylon?”
The unfamiliar voice brought Sage’s attention above them, where a well dressed man in green looked down at Waylon. The man looked like he was rich and filthy rich too. The enbie’s smile instantly fell as they crossed their arms. It seemed the man had yet to properly acknowledge them. Waylon however looked pleased to see him.
“Hiya, Eddie!” Waylon replied. Eddie? Who was Eddie? Sage wondered internally, but the more they looked at the mysterious man, the more they felt like they had seen him before. 
“What are you doing out here?” ‘Eddie’ asked. Sage instantly went into defensive mode as they stepped forward.
“Spending time with me.” They stated, eyes meeting the man with coldness. He finally seemed to realise that they were there and looked confused by their existence. 
“Who’re you?” He asked bluntly. It was Waylon who intervened before Sage could spit back a rude remark.
“This is Sage, Eddie! Sage’s a good friend of mine. They use they/them pronouns!” Waylon introduced, looking at Sage to make sure he got that right. The enbie couldn’t help but smile proudly at his consideration. His energy always made them feel better.
“Oh,” Eddie replied, sounding genuinely surprised by the fact. Sage had to resist the eyeroll. 
“Something wrong with that?” They asked, eyes narrowing instead, daring the man to challenge them. The man shook his head.
“No, of course not. But I have to admit that I am surprised, Waylon. People don’t usually approach you, after all.” He explained. Waylon half-smiled as he shook his head. 
“That’s true. But Sage is a special case.” Waylon expressed and Sage couldn’t help but smile at that. Waylon was the sweetest person imaginable, so it was hard to imagine that Sage (and now this strange green clothed man) were his only friends. 
“Well, you giving high praise is good enough in my book,” the man replied before he seemed to remember something, “Oh, where are my manners? Edward Nygma, and I use he/him pronouns.”
At that introduction, Sage’s eyes widened as they realised just why the man looked so familiar. The man in front of them was the Riddler! How on Earth was Waylon friends with the Riddler?! At Sage’s flabbergasted look, Edward looked deeply amused.
“I’m guessing you recognise the name? Kind of hard not to, after all.” He asked, to which Sage felt like punching his arrogant ass. He genuinely seemed like an absolute prick to be around, let alone the sheer amount of crimes the man had committed. They tensed up again as they wondered why he was still there.
“It’s difficult to forget the name of an awahodos such as yourself.” Sage retorted, to which Edward looked puzzled yet curious. However, it was clear he was getting bored as he turned back to Waylon.
“Why are you out by the banks, throwing stones in the river anyway?” Edward asked, sounding genuinely curious for a pretentious prick who thought he was so much smarter than everybody.
“Uh… I uh… I had to let my ducks go,” Waylon remembered, looking sad yet again. Sage placed a comforting hand on his arm. “They’s were gettin’ too big.”
“Oh, you poor–” the Riddler started before he seemed to remember that Sage was there and stopped, “But you’re… okay, right? More or less?”
“Yeh, sorta. Jus’ sad.” Waylon replied.
“I’m sure they’ll be back to see you though,” Edward tried, which made Sage pause. Was this all an act or was Edward actually being genuine?
“I sure hope so. They was good company... someone to gab at. Be nice if they came to visit.” Waylon remarked, before meeting Sage’s eyes, “Not that you ain’t great company.”
“Oh no, don’t worry, I know what you mean.” Sage reassured him. They heard Edward say something under his breath but ignored him. 
“But if they forgit about me, I won’t be mad. Jus’ means they gettin’ on with their life. An’ that’s good.” Waylon continued, and Sage heard Edward continue to murmur something under his breath. He seemed to be lost in his own world. 
“Sure gonna be lonely without ‘em... Haven’t seen Jon boy in a while, neither.” Waylon added. Even though Sage had no idea who ‘Jon boy’ was, if Waylon spoke fondly of him then he probably was also another friend.
“Naturally. You have an empty nest, alas.” Edward remarked, suddenly fully engaged in the conversation, which Sage found instantly suspicious as they narrowed their eyes at him. He ignored them.
“Dunno what I’m gonna do with myself, now…” Waylon finished, sounding genuinely depressed.
“We’ll figure out something for you,” Sage reassured him, choosing to return the favour of ignoring Edward as well.
“Hah! Can’t get a much stronger argument than that. Right, Waylon?” Edward rambled before getting Waylon’s attention. The Killer Croc looked over at the younger man solemnly. 
“Yeah, Eddie?” He asked. 
“I have a proposition for you.” 
“Wha’?” Waylon asked. 
“How’d you like to come on a little drive with me?” Edward asked. Now Sage was suspicious and wasn’t about to let it go.
“Where are you going?” They asked, their tone sharp. Edward was in too good a mood to register their aggression.
“Oh ho, that part’s a secret. Right now, the only detail I will impart is that it’s a long way to go.” Edward explained, before looking at Waylon, “Are you game?”
“What you need ol’ Waylon fo’?”
“You have… special skills.” Edward replied.
“I does?”
“Absolutely. Invaluable ones.”
“That like useless?” 
“No, Waylon, that means that they can’t be replaced.” Sage explained sincerely. The croc man grinned.
“Heh. What you need my special skills fo’?” Waylon asked Edward.
“I’ll give you a hint - we’re going to find a friend.” Edward replied with an air of mystery to it all. Waylon’s brows furrowed as he thought about his words and Sage wondered who the friend in question was.
“Friend… friend…”
“The looming, sullen fellow? Perpetually unimpressed and glaring over his glasses like a disapproving librarian?” Edward elaborated with a smile. 
“Jon boy?” Waylon asked, perking up instantly. Now that was curious, Sage thought. And they wondered yet again who Jon was.
“You got it.” Edward replied.
“Haven’t seen him aroun’. He got away?” Waylon inquired, sounding hopeful.
“I had to give him a shove in the right direction, but yes. The flight reflex that’s ingrained in people like us finally kicked in.” Edward explained.
“People like you?” Sage asked, eyes back on the Riddler yet again.
“I’m so happy the cops didn’t get ‘im.” Waylon said sincerely.
“It’s an example of conditioning, I suppose - the police sirens sound, and the criminals run for the hills.” Edward mused aloud. 
“Weren’t his fault, neither. It was all because of that Bolton. Poor li’l Ikky…” Waylon mourned, and at this point Sage had finally put the pieces together of just who ‘Jon boy’ was. Their eyes widened yet again.
“The Scarecrow?!” Sage exclaimed, wondering if everybody here had lost their minds. “You guys are gonna go get the Scarecrow?!”
“Yes, absolutely. But–” Edward paused as he smiled and put a finger to his lips, “Shh. Just between us.”
“I love secrets! I won’t tell no one.” Waylon half-whispered, and Sage looked even more concerned. 
“Waylon, you’re not actually considering going with this wan8daminat, are you?” They asked, hoping beyond all hopes that he’d say no. 
“Well, yeah. Jon boy’s my friend, like you are. I gotta help my friends and Jon boy really needs our help.” Waylon explained, sounding sincere and wholehearted. Sage could feel their stomach drop at that, wondering just how Waylon had gotten involved with these bastards.
“Excellent.” Edward smiled. 
“Wait.” Sage stopped them both as they met Edward’s gaze with a dangerous one. They didn’t trust Edward Nygma and they especially didn’t trust the man who went insane and killed half a dozen Arkham staff while on a rampage not even a few weeks ago. “If Waylon’s going, then so am I.”
“What?” Edward asked, obviously taken aback. Waylon however looked overjoyed.
“Really? You wanna go?” He asked, with a happy grin on his face. “You’ll get to meet Jon boy and–”
“Absolutely not!” Edward interrupted, “This is not a trip for just any ordinary Gothamite!” 
Sage’s anger was brimming as they glared daggers at Edward for denying them. Waylon clearly noticed while Edward did not. “Uh… Eddie?”
“I will not allow you to come with us! I know nothing about you, and even if I did, you don’t look like you could do much of anything.” Edward insulted, still ranting. Sage was silent but Waylon was getting nervous and visibly so.
“Eddie…”
“Why come with us? Because you don’t trust Jon or I? Well, I guarantee that Waylon trusts us more than he trusts you–”
But before Edward could finish his sentence, a sudden pressure enveloped him as he froze. Sage’s eyes were wide with rage as they could feel the presence of Esga behind them, keeping Edward frozen and slowly applying more pressure to him. He met their gaze in horror and Sage’s eyes narrowed.
“I don’t trust you. And it’s for that reason that I will be coming. So… Do you want to finish that sentence?” They asked, voice darker. After a moment, Edward managed to shake his head and in that moment, Esga released him causing the man to fall to the ground. Waylon went to help him up as Sage watched.
“You didn’t have to go so hard on ‘im, Sage,” Waylon chided softly. Sage sighed as their anger slowly left their body and Esga retreated into the back of their mind. 
“Sorry, Waylon. But I’m going whether Eddie likes it or not.” Sage replied. Once Edward was back on his feet, he shot them a small glare before he cleared his throat.
“Fine. You can come.” Edward surrendered and Sage felt a twinge of pleasure at seeing the man frustrated. 
“When do we go?” Waylon asked, bringing back the topic of conversation back to what it was initially. Edward turned his attention back to Waylon and smiled.
“Meet me here at daybreak tomorrow. We have no time to waste, so we’ll need to start early.” He explained. Sage wondered why so early, but then again, if they were a supervillain on the run, they’d probably run as far away as possible.
“Aw, this is excitin’!” Waylon cheered, sounding absolutely thrilled, which did make Sage smile a bit.
“You betcha,” Edward remarked with a smile that looked genuine, “I’ll see you right here tomorrow – I have some arrangements to make. Bring any supplies you might need with you; it’s a long journey, and we’ll be gone for a few days.”
“Okay! Waylon and Sage’ll be here with our bells on.” Waylon said excited. However, Sage couldn’t help but wonder what exactly awaited them on this insane trip…
9 notes · View notes
quodekash · 11 months
Text
OKAY I HAVE ONE HOUR BEFORE THE OS2 MSP EPISODE COMES OUT SO HOPEFULLY I CAN FINISH THE ABAAB EPISODE BEFORE THEN, imma try to dial it down on the commentary so that its faster 
(also fun fact, i tried to do the mouthfuls of water when i mention how pretty anyone or their hair is thing that i suggested. and i had 48 mouthfuls of water and an immediate need to pee and i was worried that throughout the night i would suddenly become a 3 year old child and pee my bed. anyway.) 
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AH SHOOT YEAH THE NOTE HE LEFT 
where the hell did cher go 
we’re probably about to find out but i wanna formulate my thoughts first 
(dang it now im thinking of first kanaphan bc i said ‘first’ STAY ON TRACK STAY ON TRACK STAY ON TRACK) 
presumably hes gone back to like his home town thingy 
but... why 
i have no idea 
we shall see 
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OH, STUFF YOU 
VAFFANCULO TU OMOFOBO PEZZO DI MERDA 
LA DETESTO, DETESTO MOLTO 
LEI PUÒ MORIRE IN UNA BUCA FREDDA E BUIA ALL’INFERNO, PER FAVORE 
STRDYTCFUVJYHKB
“you two are not a good match” LIES, LIIEEEESSS 
NOOOOOO HE IS SADDDDDD 
HHHWHYYYYY 
“take care of your health” i love jack so much 
guys we’re nearly 6 minutes in and i havent mentioned jack’s hair ONCE 
okay well i just did BUT THAT DOESNT COUNT 
THIS IS A CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION 
I EXERCISED ✨RESTRAINT✨ 
“please tell him dont be too hard on yourself, and take care” AWWJRGKHB 
poor dude misses cher so much he keeps hallucinating him 
at this point the real cher is gonna show up and he’s gonna think its one of his hallucinations for goodness sake 
gun, go to therapy 
hes so pretty tho 
i love him 
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and you didnt have a chance to say goodbye? because you didnt know it was a goodbye? and you desperately want to see him again but youre also terrified of that ever possibly happening because you know itll mean there’s going to be a goodbye, either that day or just at some point in the future, there will always be a goodbye, and you dont know if its worse to never get a chance to say goodbye or being forced to say goodbye against your own will? and youve had too many goodbyes in your life to know how to deal with it but you keep forgetting to bring this up with your psychologist when you see her once a month? 
whaaaat, me? projecting? no wayyyyy 
i love porsche 
porsche and gun are like lesbians 
that makes sense somehow 
porschegun are lesbians 
i will not elaborate 
“you, thyme, and cher. everyone left me. i have no one left.” jEEZ THAT ONE REALLY STABBED ME IN THE HEART SIX TIMES 
KILL MEEEEEEEEE 
whaaaat i have attachment issues? my psychologist said i have high signs of separation anxiety, like im a dog? noooooo waaaaaayyyyyyyy 
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bro
DANG IT OF COURSE THAT WAS A DREAM 
“hes been drinking his old coffee for five days in a row” HOLY HELL HES NOT OKAY SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE OR SOMETHING 
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i love him
and his hair 
sorry, i know i said i would dial it down but the episode is nearly over and it wouldnt be an abaab commentary post if i didnt mention and screenshot jack’s hair AT LEAST once. 
HES JUST SO PRETTY 
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just. look at his face. appreciate his face. and his hair. 
JACK’S SAD LITTLE SMILE AND THEN HE LOOKS AWAY- IM GONNA CRY I LOVE HIM TOO MUCH 
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CHER!! :DD 
and... yacht???? (seriously, IS that his name) 
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HIS FREAKING BLUE HAIR IS SO PRETTY WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL 
second best hair in this show 
“without you, my tiny room seems tremendous” FIHREBGKJB 
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GROUP MOMENT 
THREEZOOOOOO 
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PLS I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 
“you’re making us horny” GIUERDBJSGOIRE THIS IS SO FUNNY WHAT THE HELL 
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HE IS AMAZING 
AND ZO’S LITTLE FINGER SHAKE DSFDSGSGD 
MY BOI IS GRADUATINGGGGG 
MY BOI IS SEEING HIS BOY 
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JRGFJFNGGFVC 
A WONDERFUL END TO THE EPISODE 
THAT WAS EXCELLENT 
I LOVE THEM 
aight time for msp in like. five minutes. 
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sanctissimx · 2 years
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meme. 
Gymnophoria - the sense that someone is mentally undressing you (cezhou) @numinousdread .... im so sorry
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He’s not used to waiting. But for Shen Zechuan, he will. 
Xiao Chiye sits patiently within the glow of the hundreds of red silk lanterns that adorn the wall and ceiling of Shen Zechuan’s immodest dressing room. He’d spent a small fortune on them, and on the porcelain bowl full of lotus seed tangyuan in ginger broth he’d ordered expressly from the most renown pâtissier of the city. A gesture of some degree of grandeur, an attempt to impress the indifferent chanteur. Perhaps it’s a little too extravagant, he ponders belatedly as his eyes sweep the purview of his venture. But if there’s anyone who’d appreciate the theatricality of such a gesture, he trusts it would be an opera singer, surely. 
In an effort to busy his anxious hands, Xiao Chiye reaches for the cup of exorbitantly expensive pu-erh tea he’d brought as well, prepared by Shen Zechuan’s attendant. A plume of steam unfurls when he removes the lid, a momentary distraction upon which he can direct his attention until it’s ripped away at the sound of the door opening. Shen Zechuan floats through the threshold with an unpurposed grace, followed by his dutiful attendant. Without thinking, Xiao Chiye straightens, sitting up properly, though he does not rise to greet him. They exchange a wordless nod, an acknowledgement that goes no further than that. Xiao Chiye knows that though he is a prince’s son, he belongs in this space only because Shen Zechuan has allowed him to.
Dressed in a plain robe of funereal white, Shen Zechuan is as silent as a specter as he approaches his vanity, methodically opens all his cosmetics, and alights upon his chair with the authority of an emperor upon a dragon throne. Xiao Chiye makes no move, even tries not to breathe too loudly, in utmost respect of the ritual before him.
Shen Zechuan paints the rice flour white across his brow with a wide brush, over his eyes, upon the swells and hollows of his sculpted cheeks, and finally over the petal-pink lips Xiao Chiye’s gaze delights in lingering upon. The exquisite features of his face are obscured in the opacity of the white, to his spectator’s curious disappointment. But vermillion is daubed upon his eyes, edges softened into a delicate haze and cut with an artful black liner to emphasize the elegance of his phoenix eyes. Eyes Xiao Chiye wishes once might glance his way. 
Next comes the elm-soaked hair, woven in artful waves upon his brow, adorned with jeweled pins that glitter so assiduously in the candle’s light Xiao Chiye would hardly be surprised if they were true diamonds. His mind wanders for a moment, wondering what patron of his past or present might have been generous enough to gift such treasures….
Immediately he thinks of Li Jiangheng, his foremost rival in the attentions of the opera singer. And the only one he can think of with enough disposable income to make an empress of an entertainer. It incenses him, the thought of losing out. But less so than the devastation of losing him. 
“...Viceroy?” 
Xiao Chiye looks back to see Shen Zechuan glancing at him over the point of his shoulder, eyes lowered with an arresting demureness. “Sorry?” he asks, his attention now reverted to him. “I asked if you didn’t have a sweetheart you’d rather be with tonight,” Shen Zechuan asks, reaching for another diamond pin. “It’s the Shangyuan Festival, after all.” 
Xiao Chiye stands, rising slowly to his feet, walking purposefully over to Shen Zechuan’s side to pluck the pin from his hand. “I’m here, aren’t I?” he replies, his somber smile undisturbed even as Shen Zechuan attempts to snatch the pin back from his hands. Unsuccessfully. 
He gestures obscurely to the walls around them, covered from floor to ceiling in giant red lanterns. “Since you couldn’t enjoy the festivities, I decided I’d bring the festivities to you.” 
Shen Zechuan gives him a stern look that might have been frightening if it hadn’t been so lovely. Even under all that paint. Xiao Chiye lets his gaze linger upon the part of his pretty mouth, enchanted utterly by the sight of the clandestine pink tongue that peeks out behind the brazen crimson of his painted lips. Xiao Chiye wonders how hard a slap he’d receive if he caught him by his pale chin and thumbed away the red that hides away the pale pink of his lips from him. 
Willowy fingers unfurl, palm extended in requisition of that stolen pin, demanding its return. But Xiao Chiye only taps the diamond head of the pin against his free hand. “Let me adorn you with it,” he offers instead. 
Shen Zechuan huffs out a laugh with no edge of mirth to it, lowering his eyes once more to soften the inevitable blow. “I’m afraid you haven’t earned that right,” he says softly. “Even if I weren’t terrified at how crookedly you’d apply it.” 
Shen Zechuan looks away, feigning a distraction to allow a moment for Xiao Chiye to regain his face, while amending the slight with the elegant rondeur of his cygnet throat bared for his perusal. It’s an ambiguous invitation at best, and yet Xiao Chiye hedges his bets upon the possibility, touching a careful fingertip to the fine hairs at the nape of that perfect, unpainted neck. Under his touch, he feels Shen Zechuan tense, though he doesn’t move as Xiao Chiye drags his fingertips down the valley of his spine, against the gentle protrusion of his bones. 
And when he does, moving just out of range of that insouciant caress, Xiao Chiye snatches the edge of the collar back, only to be thwarted by the hand Shen Zechuan smooths over the nape of his neck, hiding it away from his wolfish eyes. “That is also not permitted,” he admonishes softly, but there is no mistaking the threat the lies between those words. 
“Then tell me what is,” Xiao Chiye demands, as genteel as he can manage.
Shen Zechuan looks at him with exasperation. “You’ve earned nothing from me,” he explains simply, as though he were placating an unruly child.
Xiao Chiye’s eyes are intent on him as he moves closer, enough that Shen Zechuan can feel his tea-mild breath warm upon his brow. “I’ve brought a sky’s worth of lanterns to you,” he points out. 
“And tanguyan fit for a noble’s tongue,” he adds, demonstrating both his understanding of Xiao Chiye’s efforts, as well as his indifference to it. “An entire festival within my walls. Yes, I know.” 
It’s entirely unsentimental and utterly utilitarian for Xiao Chiye to believe that any efforts on his part—even unwanted ones— constitute reciprocation of some manner of Shen Zechuan. But the expectation of reciprocity is the only language that nobility and men of Xiao Chiye’s kind understand, so he turns back to him with a soft smile to offer compromise. 
“So let us celebrate,” he decides, picking up another pin to show the viceroy. “In honor of Shangyuan Festival, how about a few riddles? If you win one of me, you’re free to adorn me as you please. If I win one of you, then I’ll dress myself, as I please.” 
Xiao Chiye’s expression is mildly perturbed, but there’s no deliberation in his mind. “Alright,” he concedes. And then, without hesitation: “You first.” 
Shen Zechuan looks almost pleased, his eyes drifting to the lantern-lined ceiling as he thinks of a riddle to begin with. “He is a grumpy man with thick skin and a big fat belly. Mute if you ignore him, loud if you keep touching him,” he recites, conducting the lilt of his words with the diamond hair pin in his hand. 
Xiao Chiye frowns. 
“Ten seconds,” Shen Zechuan warns cheerily. “Nine, eight …”
“I don’t know,” Xiao Chiye states, unhappy about his first defeat.
Shen Zechuan plucks the hair pin from his hand as delicately as he would a dahlia’s petal, and places it in his hair. “Too bad. A drum.” 
Xiao Chiye clicks his tongue with displeasure. “My turn. Two houses with doors wide open. They allow a million people in but can’t stand a tiny grain.”
It gives Shen Zechuan pause enough. “I give up.” 
Xiao Chiye takes the diamond pin from Shen Zechuan’s hands and places it precisely beside the one already nestled expertly within his hair. “A pair of eyes,” he says at last, satisfied with his work. 
Shen Zechuan laughs softly, his eyes landing upon the breadth of Xiao Chiye’s shoulders. “Clever,” is his verdict, spoken in half a whisper. He clears his throat. “They are twin sisters of the same height; they work in the kitchen, arm in arm. Whatever is cooked, they always try it first. But they despise soups.”
“Chopsticks,” Xiao Chiye answers easily, reaching into the red lacquered box for a silk peony hairpin in a staid deep coral, and affixes it above Shen Zechuan’s left ear. “A thousand threads, a million strands. Reaching the water, vanishing all at once.”
Shen Zechuan finds himself hesitating not for lack of answer, but for the unexpected scent of Xiao Chiye’s nearness: of the brightness of a wild sun, the gelid fraicheur of a wind descended of mountainsides, that blows through tall, untouched grasses in a faraway idyll. 
“Ten seconds,” Xiao Chiye reminds him, and Shen Zechuan is quick to assert plaintively, “I don’t know.” 
“A rainfall,” the viceroy informs him, answer curt, and points with a flick of his chin towards the aoqun hanging upon the door.  Shen Zechuan reaches for a pale pink one, but Xiao Chiye stops him. “No,” he says, imperiously. “The red one.”
Shen Zechuan reaches for the dark crimson aoqun embroidered with white peonies, but it’s Xiao Chiye who divests it from the hanger, holding it open for him to slip into. Xiao Chiye arranges the robe with exacting care, positioning the stiff collar perfectly center to Shen Zechuan’s nape.  Shen Zechuan peers down to straighten the blouse, unwittingly exposing the slightest sliver of skin that peeks out from behind the guard of the high collar. Xiao Chiye’s wanton gaze lingers upon it, taking advantage of Shen Zechuan’s distraction, until he realizes what he’s doing and catches his wrist to stop his hands. 
“I’ll do it,” Xiao Chiye says softly, and there’s only an edge of imperative to his words. He starts from the bottom, lining up the knot button with the clasp and fastening them methodically. There’s a shadow of consternation that flickers upon his brow when he gets to the last one, just at Shen Zechuan’s throat. Xiao Chiye swallows hard, his downturned eyes perusing the tenuity of the opera singer’s slender throat, the semblant translucence of his pale skin complimented by the vermillion red of his collar. Sure and steady are Xiao Chiye’s fingers as they attend the final button, in what appears to be assiduity on the viceroy’s part. But his fingers linger upon the clasp, unwilling to let go of the provisional closeness. 
He lets out a breath at last, his hands falling away in surrender to their obsoletion, knuckles brushing upon Shen Zechuan’s lithesome chest as they do.  “Your turn,” he says finally. 
Shen Zechuan’s pulls a demure but dubiously mischievous smile at the corners of his rubicund lips, rests the tip of his index finger upon his chin in pantomime of thought. “Hmm,” he hums, his smile widening to show teeth like pearls glinting in the delicate lamplight. “Sometimes it’s curved like a smile, other times, it’s round like a plate.”
Xiao Chiye says nothing, his footsteps the only sound in the silence of the room as he drifts over to the closet behind him. He skim through the robes, pulling out a cloud-white pei with water sleeves the color of a pale sky darkening. “The moon,” he says softly, his breath warm against the shell of Shen Zechuan’s ear as he leans in to supply the answer, excusing his nearness by draping the robe over Shen Zechuan’s narrow shoulders.
Shen Zechuan watches as Xiao Chiye moves away, realizing the gravity of this game as he slips his arms within the pale pei. The indomitable red of his high collar peeks through the opening of the pei’s collar, as insouciant as a tongue. There’s a note of quiet pleasure upon his features as he examines the combination, choosing a dark red skirt embroidered with gold fauna to match. “What belongs to you, yet others use it more than you do?” he asks, and Shen Zechuan’s half distracted with the arrangement of his skirt, tucking and arranging as he must. 
Occupied with his costume, Shen Zechuan does not see Xiao Chiye choose a gilded fengguan from a mannequin’s head, a stunningly ornate headdress ornamented with nine dragons and nine phoenixes, covered in gold leaf and inlaid with hundreds of glass beads of deep carmine that glitter as exultantly as real rubies. “I’m waiting,” Xiao Chiye reminds him, catching the point of Shen Zechuans jaw to angle it upwards and watch his face as he crowns him with the phoenix coronate. 
The fan of his inky lashes flutter timorously before Shen Zechuan dares to look up at the viceroy through them. Xiao Chiye recognizes the practiced flirtation, but the realization brings no less admiration for his proficiency. “Me?” he asks, the brilliant smile he pulls breaking as beautifully as a dawn. 
Xiao Chiye clicks his tongue in displeasure, his hand dropping away at once. 
“Your name,” Shen Zechuan laughs, reaching for his ivory fan at the edge of his vanity. “Naturally. It’s a very good riddle, of course.” 
The viceroy leans hard upon the vanity, brow purled in an unhappy louring. “You knew the answer.”
Shen Zechuan walks to the mirror to examine his costume and finds himself pleased. “I did,” he admits. “But you’d already crowned me. It seemed a waste to undo your efforts.” 
Xiao Chiye pushes off the edge and walks over to station himself behind him. “You knew all the answers,” comes his quiet accusation. “The whole time.” 
Shen Zechuan’s gaze is piercing in the mirror, staring at Xiao Chiye in vivid coquetry. “The Viceroy is too comfortable with triumph,” he contends, and Xiao Chiye’s vaguely aware of being condescended to, even in the gentle lilt of his erudite words. “I wouldn’t presume that you would know that sometimes—”  He turns to him now, eyes meeting his with nothing less than audacity. “Sometimes one must lose to win.” 
He punctuates his point by tapping the tip of his fan beneath the point of his jaw, smiling to himself as he returns to the vanity to examine his makeup one last time. 
“And what have you won?” Xiao Chiye asks, still sullen in spite of Shen Zechuan’s concession and his apparent victory. 
Shen Zechuan carefully pulls a heavy brocade sash over his head, and arranges the sash deftly upon his shoulders. “The company of Xiao Chiye,” he replies easily, turning to him in his full glory, his face neutral under all that makeup. It’s a gesture meant to show him how uncontrived the statement was, bereft of the guile of artfulness or artifice. That he means it.
“It isn’t winning if it was yours to accept in the first place,” Xiao Chiye argues, almost peevishly. “I’ve been asking for an audience for you for weeks now. Maybe months. You could have had my company whenever you wanted it.” 
“Not the playboy Viceroy,” Shen Zechuan asserts. “Not the lecher, not the drunk, not the one who keeps the company of that boorish Prince Chu—who, by the way, I understand you have a bet with? Regarding my favors and who might win them of me first?” 
Xiao Chiye does not move, does not flinch from Shen Zechuan’s accusatory gaze, the tips of his ears a perfect berry-red the only indication of his remorse. 
“I don’t care, actually,” Shen Zechuan continues, but the way the lilt of his words adopt a slight staccato hint otherwise. “But it was nice… to see a glimmer of who you are. Behind all that. I really hadn’t much faith that there was anything of note.”
There’s a silence between them, a stillness that neither of them are willing to break. Xiao Chiye’s ears feel scorched with a shame so great, so enervating, that he’s ultimately reduced to the unlikely boldness of having little left to lose and asks, “And what have I won of you?” 
Shen Zechuan laughs mirthlessly through his nose. “I considered offering you the opportunity to undo the work of your own hands. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all evening? But I don’t think you’ve quite earned that, either.” He moves to a vase the pluck a white peony streaked with amaranth red, and tosses it in Xiao Chiye’s direction. “You can come back when it’s faded.” 
He staggers to catch it, but snatches it out the air, nearly crushing it in his hand. His fingers unfurl and so does the bloom within the palm of his hand, and Xiao Chiye stares at it to discern its meaning. “Tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful. 
Shen Zechuan’s turned in silhouette when he opens his fan and hides his pleased grin behind it. He bows once to the Viceroy, the little pearl strings on his phoenix coronet tinkling softly as he does. As if on cue, an attendant opens the door, through which Shen Zechuan might make his escape. But he turns back suddenly, fan stuck to the palm of his hand as his eyes light up in remembrance. “The tangyuan!” he exclaims, but his face falls immediately into a beautiful consternation. 
Xiao Chiye looks to the wooden box upon the vanity and slides it open, the large porcelain bowl  within. “Ah,” he replies, reaching into the box and uncovering the bowl. The white and pink tangyuan float within the ginger-sweet broth, like perfect summer moons. “They’re a little cold, but no colder than if you eat them later.” 
Shen Zechuan strides forward, gathering his water sleeves to his chest as he turns his mouth up for Xiao Chiye’s perusal, lips parting obediently. “Feed me.” 
Xiao Chiye stares at that rosebud mouth in bloom for him, remains frozen in aesthetic arrest of the sight of him before he reaches for the spoon and scoops one out for him. He holds it up to Shen Zechuan’s lips, that accept the ingress of the porcelain between them, the deep crimson of his lips closing about the pure white of the tangyuan and sucks it cleanly into his mouth. 
Shen Zechuan’s eyes lower as he daubs carefully away at the ginger broth at the corners of his mouth, his pink tongue peeking out as he licks his lips clean. “Tomorrow,” he confirms at last, commits a shallow bow as he watches Xiao Chiye slowly bring the empty spoon to his own mouth.
There’s only the residual sweetness of the ginger left upon it, but it’s the ghost of Shen Zechuan’s lips that he means to consume. And somehow he knows that, fan opening to hide away the pleased smile before he floats out of the waiting door like a gilded fantasy. One that Xiao Chiye is sure he’d do anything to dream up again.
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starsmuserainbow · 1 year
Text
HOW I RUN MY BLOG/S.
speed. I do my best to answer at a fast time, although in the recent times it has turned into like a week reply-time, at times. I can do faster sometimes too, but before a week, there's no need to check if I got it (unless your reply isn't listed when I do my "to-owe" list).
replies. I more or less do them in the order that I get them back. I try to make it so I always write one thing on Star here, and one from any of my sideblogs in alternating, though, because recently I just had too many Star things and way too few things anywhere else going on. As of writing this, I have more things for my sideblogs that I "owe" than things on Star, but I'll probably still try to stick to this alternating of replies, for now. Also, when it comes to be that both replies (one from the sideblogs, and one from here) would be from the same person, I often change the order to pick something else into today's mix, because I feel like alternating it a little is better.
I usually operate my posting of replies without a queue, I just post something usually on the day that I finished writing it (that is, as long as I have 2 replies done). I'd say something about length too, but outside of that I simply can't do one-liners, I'm fine with pretty much any length I think.
starters. I have some open starters on each of my blogs, if that is what this point is about. Most of my open starters never get replies or not continued long though, so I kinda am doing new ones less and less these days. Writing starters for others, usually only happens after I make a call or if we discuss something. I'm more likely to send things than to write a starter out of nowhere, and I'm very very bad at sending things so that speaks volumes about just how rare it is that I'd write a starter without you knowing so beforehand.
inbox. I admit I had to delete some things from the inbox recently. I still welcome any and all asks though, be they random or from memes or whatever, anon or not. I'm sorry in advance if I will end up deleting your thing though - when you didn't send it on anon though, I'll usually message you that I have to delete the thing and/or why I have to.
honest note. I've said it before, I'm kinda struggling with Starfire at the moment. I feel like ever since I did a few things (reblog memes on here less often, keep my alternating of replies, try to be more approaching of others with the suggestion of my sideblogs) to "fix it", it's become better; I think it's just a matter of oversaturation of Star things and me growing grumpy over the fact that my other muses get neglected. I know that that's no one's fault really, I wouldn't want any of you to force interactions with characters of mine that you may not be interested in, but it still is a feeling I have. That said, here's a link to that overview of my blogs, if you do have interest I'd appreciate knowing that (by telling me, or simply, like, following that sideblog of mine or sth), and if not, that's okay too. I should've done a mainblog-multi instead of all these sideblogs, anyway.
Another thing I maybe should admit to, I do tend to default to the thought of "well they followed me first, so they should do the first step (aka sending sth in, IMing, whatever)" where it's applicable - I shouldn't think that way and I do what I can to ignore that thought and at times try to actively reach out ("do the first step") to counter thinking that way, but, I figured it's probably something I should mention.
Outside of this, I don't really know what to say.
I'm very thankful to have the wonderful amazing RP-partners that I have, and I look forward to having more fun with y'all.
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pochipop · 2 years
Note
oh my god i just read your “what am i to you” genshin hc and I literally fell in love with your writing, if you’re not busy i was wondering if you can do a pt.2 where the genshin men finally came into terms with their feelings?? (Feel free to ignore this if you have too muck work to do!!) you’re an amazing writer and im looking forward to more of your works <33
#GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — COMING TO TERMS WITH THEIR FEELINGS.
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#. synopsis! — they think it over and finally give you an answer .
#. characters! —kaeya, diluc, childe .
#. warnings! — mild angst .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. part I! — you can find the first post of the inciting prompt of 'asking "what am i to you?"' : here .
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𖦹. ━ KAEYA !!
A couple weeks trickle by, and you've mostly come to terms with an inevitable outcome of emotional limbo. You love Kaeya, and he doesn't know what he wants in this life, —maybe he doesn't really know what it feels like to be loved like this, or to love someone else in turn. Life returns to semi-normalcy, where you don't ask and he doesn't tell. It weighs heavy on your heart sometimes, but a part of you knows you'd rather have him here filling in the gaps than never see him again and have him leave you lonely. This is a battle you're willing to lose if it means he'll still look towards you fondly.
He's a good friend, —always has been. Reliable, charming, fairly easy to please, all of that and more wrapped up in a neatly groomed package. He's not perfect by any means, but nobody is, and Kaeya does his best to adapt to any situation he finds himself in. This one might be a little lost on him, though, not that you can really blame him. In all fairness you dropped a bomb on him from out of nowhere expecting some sort of happy ending from the courage alone, and when that didn't pan out. . . Well, maybe that outcome was simply more likely from the beginning anyhow. You blame yourself for getting your hopes up so high.
Slowly but surely, your heart settles. Many say that time heals wounds, and you begin to think that there's some truth to that in the weeks that come, —each day soothing you little by little. Kaeya is still somewhat distant, but that comes as no surprise to you. It's only natural that some things have changed now that he knows how you really feel, and you know. . . Very little about his feelings in return. His heart has always been hidden behind strong, soaring walls, after all. You knew that much from the very beginning.
"Sara!" You call out to her with a smile, "I managed to get all the ingredients you asked for, —even freshly gathered fowl for smoking!"
"Really?" Her scarlet eyes light up a bit, "That's lovely. I wasn't expecting everything all in one go, but I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from you."
Her smile is warm and comforting. It fills you with a sense of pride when she examines your ingredients and comments on the sublime quality.
"I can't believe you carried all of this here by yourself and didn't crack a single egg!" She gushes, "—thank you for the help, I really appreciate it! I don't know what I would have done without you!"
"Don't mention it!" You smile. "It was no trouble at all! I'm trying to keep busy these days anyway."
Being productive leaves little room for self-pity, which is the last thing you need. You know well enough how to care for yourself in this state of mind, and being sedentary wouldn't benefit you in the slightest.
"Oh!" Sara says suddenly, as if a lightbulb had gone off over her head. "You saying that reminds me! Captain Kaeya stopped by just a little while ago and left this for you."
She rummages around under the counter for a moment before pulling an envelope out from under. Your heart lurches.
"He mentioned that you've been busy lately and that it was hard to track you down. I hope that isn't on my account, —rest is important!" Sara notes as she hands the envelope over to you.
You assure her that it's nothing of the sort, escaping the situation as soon as possible in order to tear into the letter that you know is hiding inside. Giving her another smile and a quick wave goodbye, you turn the corner and break into a desperate sprint, moving quickly until you cross the Mondstadt bridge completely and find yourself a secluded spot to sit beneath a tree. Your heart hammers in anticipation.
I haven't seen you much these days, Kaeya writes. I hope you've been well. I'm ashamed for not having asked in person. I'm also ashamed that I haven't had the courage to approach you properly after what happened between us. I've been telling myself for days now that I'm going to move forward and make a serious move to bare my truths for you, but something inside has been holding me back, so I'm writing this now to avoid the calamity. If you will, please meet me by Starfell Lake at dusk. If you choose not to come, I understand. But I'd really like to see you there.
Sincerely,
— Kaeya.
The bottom of the letter is folded, and you pull it down to reveal a pressed sweet flower. The yellow of its petals is so vibrant. . . You let out a shaky breath as you weigh your options
In the end, you go to him. If nothing else you're in need of a proper rejection to truly begin the final stages of the healing process, and at least to some degree, you've made peace with every possible scenario you could think up. At the very least, this meeting with Kaeya will give you closure.
He looks like some kind of prince from a distance, waiting under a drunken moon for you. The crystalline waters of Starfell Lake glimmer like the surface is jewel encrusted. This feels too good to be true, —like a mirage that you're waiting to see ripped apart before your eyes, or a dream you're just waiting to wake up from.
"Hi, Kaeya," you approach him cautiously, hoping to avoid startling him.
"Y/n," he gives you a lopsided smile, "—you came."
"It was only fair. You listened to me when I had something important to say, and now it's my turn. So, whatever you need to get off your chest, I'm here to listen," you reply.
He takes a breath before he says anything further.
"I. . .” He pauses, wracking his mind for the right words, “I wish I knew how to say this in a way that would make it everything you’re hoping for it to be. And I’m sorry that I don’t. I brought you here thinking the atmosphere might help make up for that, but now I. . . I don’t know. Maybe there’s nothing to fill that.”
You swallow nervously, listening closely. He’s being painfully vague, but this is as close to vulnerable as you’ve ever really seen him. You fear that anything you say might destroy the balance here that’s already threatening to implode in a second.
“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot, and no matter what I do, my thoughts always draw back to you. It’s been like that for a long time, actually. . . I just didn’t know what to make of it. Or maybe I did know, and I was just scared of what those feelings represented. So I pushed them away, I pushed you away, and I also tried to keep you close. Arms length sometimes, and then closer, then farther away. And none of that was fair to you,” he acknowledges.
Maybe you’re just too soft-hearted, but you can’t manage to be angry with him. Not when he’s so far outside his comfort zone, using every ounce of his courage to be honest, even when the truth isn’t as pretty as he’d like it to be.
“Even now, I feel like I’m just talking to fill the silence so you don’t get too close,” Kaeya admits, but in direct contrast, he chooses to step toward you.
“A part of me wants to keep pushing you away so I don’t have to acknowledge anything. But I know I can’t hide from this forever, and even more, that I’ll regret it if I do.”
As you listen carefully, he reaches out; warm hand grasping hold of yours. Despite his cryo vision, he’s always so warm. His touch is calming, —reassuring in the way that his thumb draws along the ridges of your knuckles. You’re not sure it’ll do much good, but you squeeze his hand softly.
“Anything you say, I’ll respect it,” you whisper.
Tears well in his visible eye. The moonlight hits him just right, glistening off the wetness. He sniffles softly, as if nobody else in the world has ever told him that no matter what he chooses, they won’t hate him. Maybe nobody ever has, and the thought of it guts you.
As he opens his mouth, you see his bottom lip quiver. Before you can think twice, you’ve raised your hand to match the sharp curve of his jaw and the plush of his cheek. He meets your gaze in a way he’s never really done so before, and you get a glimpse at all the broken pieces inside him. You don’t know what caused them, or even if you can meld them back together, but all you want is for Kaeya to know that he doesn’t have to do so alone. Friend, lover, or anything in between, you want to be there for him to help him see this through.
“I can’t make you any grand promises,” he musters up a sad smile, “but I love you, and I want to be with you. . . And I hope that’s enough.”
It is.
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𖦹. ━ DILUC !!
When Diluc has someone fetch you, summoning you to the tavern, you feel your heart sink low into the pit of your stomach. It’s only been a few days since the instigating conversation, and through it all, you hadn’t even managed to catch a glimpse of him in passing. That in itself wasn’t the most unusual thing, since Diluc largely prefers to work alone and seemingly has no vested interests in socializing like most people. Still, it makes you uneasy, and as you make your way to the tavern, you feel anxiety swim through your veins freely like fish to the open seas.
Chilly winds nip at your skin as you approach the wooden door, —and you knock lightly on the splintering boards, uncertain as to whether it was open. It seems much less lively this evening. It’s usually packed on nights when Diluc tends the bar since everyone has much praise for his skills in the position. They all say he makes the best drinks. You’ve only had a few drinks made by Diluc, but you’re inclined to agree.
“Come in,” you hear his unmistakable voice call out to you, and you do, albeit nervously.
Frankly, this just isn’t how you thought things would play out. Out of all the places you thought this conversation would happen, the tavern never really crossed your mind. . . But, you can’t say it shocks you. Diluc is pragmatic, and he did say that he wouldn’t make you wait any longer than what was necessary for him to work through his feelings. Maybe the suddenness of it all is just a reflection of his promise, much as the unconventional location.
As you step inside, you quickly realize that you’re the only person there, —aside from Diluc himself, of course. All of the seats are barren, and the bar doesn’t seem as if it’s been used.
“Good evening,” he says, —a greeting he would likely give to any other patron of the tavern.
“Good evening,” you parrot, questions playing on the tip of your tongue.
You can’t find the courage to ask them now. Everything feels oddly peaceful, despite your personal, internal qualms, and for one odd reason or another, you’d like to keep it that way. The atmosphere is bittersweet, much like Diluc himself. As you think that, you bite back a giggle.
“Take a seat,” he requests, gesturing to one of the stools in front of him. “I’ll mix you a drink. On the house, of course.”
“Alright,” you nod, doing as he says.
All of this feels strange, but you don’t see why obliging him would do any harm. It doesn’t hurt you to be this close to him, a countertop away from his arms. It’s always been like this. . . Maybe you’re much more used to it than you ever realized, and that revelation comes as an almost comforting sadness.
You watch passively as Diluc makes a drink for you. It doesn’t seem to be anything complicated, but you catch a sweet scent from the ingredients. He moves like this is something he’s been doing for the entirety of his life, never missing a beat. . . Like a machine. It dawns on you that Diluc has always been a little robotic, even from the very first time you crossed paths. In the beginning, his bluntness wasn’t always welcome, but as you grew to know him, it became consolatory. If nothing else, you knew that Diluc would never be the one to comfort you with lies.
In the midst of your reminiscing, he slides a cup across the counter to you. The liquid inside is a bright, cheerful color; a yellowy-orange that kisses the rim gently. Your gaze flickers from the drink to Diluc.
“What is this?” You ask, bringing it to your lips for a sip.
“A Gray Valley Sunset,” he answers, “—simple fruit punch.”
It hits your tongue with a sweet, tangy flavor. There’s no layers to the taste, and you have to admit that it’s painfully fitting for someone like him. What you see is what you get.
“I like it,” you smile softly.
“I’m glad,” he replies, making his way from around the bar to where you sit, taking a seat right beside you.
“When I was young, my father had me mix a drink for him,” Diluc begins, and you resign yourself to listening, taking small sips of the drink he prepared for you as you do so.
“No details, no instructions. . . He just laid ingredients out and told me to make something. Looking back, I think he just wanted to test my creativity, —see what I could come up with. In the end, I made a glass of fruit punch not much unlike that,” he gestures to the cup in your hand.
The fact that he made this drink for you now warms your heart. Even if he’s served thousands of them ordered from the tavern menu by now, you feel like this glass is special.
“Back then, I was young. Innocent. And though I thought I’d grown up long ago, your words the other night threw me so off balance that I felt I’d regressed to that little child again for the very first time.”
A chord of guilt strikes at your heartstrings.
“For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know how to fix something. I didn’t know how to make this better. I’ve thought about it ever since that night, and I’d love to say that I have all the answers now, but the truth is that I. . . Feel lost when it comes to this. Like the ending point is always moving, and I don’t know how to reach it in time,” Diluc goes on.
You want to say something, but you don’t know what. You also don’t want to interrupt this moment, where Diluc is showing you both strength and bravery in the form of unadulterated vulnerability.
“So, to compensate, I brought you here,” he offers up a barely-there smile that’s laced with sadness, but all the emotions reach his eyes for what feels like the very first time.
“Making drinks is like second nature to me by now. I know I can manage that. I wanted to take small steps this time, —thinking maybe slower strides would win the race for me. I made you a drink, and then I took a leap, and I told you a little story about me and my past that you’ve never heard before. Bridging the gap, I guess,” he lets himself laugh, though it sounds a bit bitter to you.
“I really appreciate that,” you finally speak up, “—truly.”
His gaze locks on yours, unblinking. This is an expression you never thought you’d get to see on Diluc’s face. . . Almost childlike, but endearingly so.
“I appreciate you listening,” he reaches out, placing a large hand on your knee.
“And if I may, I’d like to tell you something else before you go home.”
“Of course,” you nod, “I’m all ears.”
All ears, and all heart; throbbing in your chest like it’s thirty seconds from bursting.
“I don’t know what way is right or wrong with these kinds of things,” he elaborates, “but for you, I’ll do it all. Whatever you need. I’m poor with words, but I hope my actions can speak for me going forward. . . If you’ll have me, I want to love you.”
You cover the hand resting on your knee with your own, giving him a sheepish smile as you fight tears. If you speak, your voice is sure to crack, so you settle for a nod.
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𖦹. ━ CHILDE !!
Childe has been gone for quite some time now. Where he went, you haven’t the faintest clue. . . You rarely do. It’s just how he is, —swift as the winds of Mondstadt. He lives and breathes by his own rules, plays by unconventional means, and you love him not in spite of it all, but because of it. Maybe there’s something to be said about the unhearable, something to be felt in the untouchable, that Childe embodies all too well. He’s the wild that exists within us all, emerging from the darkness and living in the light with reckless abandon.
He’s enchanting, for better or worse.
There’s a certain enticement that comes from the chase. But Childe is likely chasing fairytales, and you’re chasing him, which might as well be the same thing, you suppose. Even now, as you sit below a starry sky alone, you know it’s almost foolish. He never promised you anything, and yet here you are, waiting for him like a worm on a hook, wriggling around below the water in hopes a fish might be intrigued enough to take a bite.
A sigh escapes your lips as you watch the sky, clouds drifting slowly along the inky expanse above. It’s the third night in a row. He could be a thousand miles away for all you know, but this spot makes you feel close to him, —makes you wonder if he’s out there right now, looking up at the same sky, thinking about you too.
You think about the way he looks at you, curious and calm, like you’re interesting and he wants to know all of what goes on inside your mind. But he never asks.
“Y/n?” His voice rings out from behind you, sending a shockwave through your body.
As you turn around, you half-expect for no one to be there. It wouldn’t have been the first time you heard his voice echo through your mind in a way that felt just a smidge too real. This time is different, though. There he stands with a surprised expression, a few small cuts littering the skin of his face.
“C-Childe,” you breathe, an equally shocked look painting your own face in turn, “what are you doing here? And where have you been?”
It’s the first time you’ve asked. Before, all you needed to know was that he was away, and that he was back now. For how long, who knows, but he was there in the moment, and that’s what counted. Now, however, everything feels like it’s changed, and you’d do anything to know all the details of his expeditions, —you’d give the world to see the world through his eyes.
“I could ask you the same,” he replies, slipping that mask back on.
Not literally, of course, but figuratively. That mask he wears, charming and slick, suave enough to win your heart, but not enough to keep it. No, the mask doesn’t set you aflame. He does. The real face of Childe that he covers as to not let those he encounters know that he too has feelings, and dreams of unattainable things.
“It’s late,” he adds, “shouldn’t you be home?”
You shrug.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you answer plainly, but your heart is racing in the cavern of your chest, and all you want to do is hold him close and let his warmth sink into you. “And I like it here. It’s calming.”
It feels empty when I’m alone, though, you think; but don’t dare to say it.
Even if you don’t, Childe looks at you like he knows what’s written on the tip of your tongue, —like he can taste it without ever having kissed you. He does that often, and now, you just wish he’d do it if for nothing more than confirmation.
“Well, I’m not complaining,” he notes, taking his place beside you on the grass.
Now that he’s closer, you can see his wounds better. By no means are they serious, but dried blood litters their outlines, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch his face gently. He doesn’t complain or look at you with confusion in his eyes. His face remains lax as you examine him, —not just the wounds, but him. He’s incredibly beautiful, with eyes that sparkle like noctilius jade.
“You could have cleaned them at the very least,” you mumble, hand parting from his cheek.
Before it falls to your side, he’s grasping at your wrist; motions defying his relaxed body language. He holds your wrist with the same intensity that he wields swords of water and aims to shoot his bow, but softer, —much softer, and a million times more affectionate.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” he whispers. “I was getting used to the idea of someone caring enough to do it in the first place.”
Your lips part as your eyes widen slightly, but you say nothing.
“I don’t want to mislead you. I’m not some prince, or a knight in shining armor. . . I get high off risks and sometimes, I might not be here when you need me. I won’t always be around to help you pick up the pieces after a hard day,” Childe says.
“I can’t promise you the universe, and I can’t bring you the stars in a bottle. I can’t give you everything you’ve ever wished for, and I won’t give you hope by making false claims to you that I know I can’t uphold. In truth, I don’t really know what it is that I can offer. . . All I really know is that I’ll love you, and I’ll do it like the world is ending if you give me the chance.”
You hadn’t been expecting that, but you can’t say it’s surprising. When it comes to him, you’ve never really known what to expect at all, not ever. It’s not stability that’s drawn you to Childe all this time. Security isn’t what you seek, —at least not right now. At this point in your life, you’re not looking for someone to give you empty promises and vow to give you the galaxy in the palm of your hand. You just want to know he’d seek you if reality was collapsing.
No need for goodbyes, just a million hellos.
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yeoreos · 3 years
Text
hate sex || jjk (m)
pairing :: jungkook x reader
genre :: 18+, fwb!au, smut, basically pwp
summary :: jungkook decides to show you how much he loves hates you.
warnings :: jungkook is in love with you, smut (corruption kink, big dick!jk, size kink, pussy slapping if you squint, oral (f. and m.), overstimulation, unprotected sex [be safe], sex in front of a mirror, denied orgasm, overstimulation, dirty talk, hair pulling, crying but it’s because jungkook is not showing any mercy on oc, hard dom!jk, somewhat brat!reader, a pinch of soft dom!jk, tattooed!jk, i think that’s it?)
wc :: 3.6k (of pure smut)
note :: first imagine ever please be kind :(( lowercase intended !!! (unedited)
“strawberry funnel cake frappuccino for y/n?”
your ears perked up at your name being called by the barista, indicating that your order is ready. you pushed past people, shocked at how packed it was despite it being a wednesday morning.
as for your situation, however, you needed that coffee. last night, the night of your date with your tinder match, didn’t happen. you realized how much time and energy you wasted looking your best for someone that didn’t even appreciate it. the rest of the night, you spent crying; not for your date, but for the makeup look you worked so hard on not to even get a reaction from anybody. but you didn’t let that stop you.
you grabbed your phone from the beige purse you had in your hands and threw the purse on your bed. from the lockscreen, you swiped left to open the camera app. from the angle it was in, the camera captured your feet. 
a few small pictures to upload to instagram wouldn’t hurt, right? and so for the next hour or two you spent in the bathroom having a photoshoot, silently thanking yourself for not throwing away the tripod that sat in the corner of your room, serving no purpose until that moment.
you took a few snaps in the bathtub with the water reaching the brim and your favorite scent littered into the water, along with a few rose petals to decorate it. this is going to be amazing. 
you sat in the bathtub, naked, careful not to let the water touch your face. with one person’s face in mind, you took the pictures, added a filter on them, and posted them onto your instagram, without a caption, because you sucked at those.
locking your phone, you sat in bed and went back to sleep, approximately around the time when the sun started rising, so of course you needed that coffee.
your best friend, Jimin, had heard all about it and had even been the first one to like and comment on your post. he commented so many times about how good you looked and how it was your date’s loss that he stood you up. it got to the point where he almost got shadow banned.
that was until he flooded your private message with more comments.
there was a specific comment, however, which caught your eye.
jeonjk97: damn babygirl
of course jungkook would comment something like that. but it didn’t fail to make you feel like you were on top of the world. 
fuck him and fuck his stupid self.
and the situation you were in was exactly that.
jungkook always had a preference when it came to girls. although he wasn’t the playboy type, he was still a boy and needed his desires to be satisfied. he preferred the innocent ones; “they have the tightest cunts” he would say.
but it was more to it than that. he knew that the innocence was fun to break down, to stain it with his touch where he knew his one-night stand would come back for more and fall to his feet, practically kissing it. he wanted to watch the way they would turn from someone so pure to someone equivalent to him in bed.
he figured that you were a virgin by the way you almost always had your nose in a book. but the first time he asked you to come over, he was shocked to see that the person you showed to everyone was nothing but a mask to hide it all. 
this was the first time you had caught jungkook’s intriguing eyes.
jungkook always reminded himself that he was only there to take, not to give, but it was getting harder and harder to do that each time you gave yourself to him. for him to use but he couldn’t. not when saw you as something more than just a quick fuck.
to make matters worse, you hated him with all of your guts, yelling out words that shouldn’t be uttered to him when the two of you weren’t in the premises of your (and sometimes his) bedroom.
“you’re a small, pretty thing, aren’t you?” he murmured to himself, standing next to your bed. you were sitting up on it, looking at him with a fire behind your eyes and a small smirk playing on your red lips. at that moment, he didn’t care about the feelings he had as all he wanted to was to take his cock out of the confines of his boxers and fuck your throat until you were gagging and choking on it, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage and a request to let you catch your breath.
“yes.” with your chest heaving up and down, the wetness between your thighs became more, the ghost of your orgasm pulling at every nerve in your body. that tingling feeling in your veins has you in a haze, wanting nothing more than just him.
he smirked, his purple hair falling over his eyes, and from the light hitting his back, it casted a shadow over them, making everything more exciting. every feeling and craving of touch for him was heightened, and you were getting tired of waiting.
“hurry the fuck up, jeon!” 
bad mistake.
immediately, he went up to you and grabbed you by the neck, pulling you so you were propped on your knees and in front of him. jungkook looked down at your lips and bit his own, thinking about the pretty sounds that would be coming out of them in a few moments.
with his free hand, he trailed his fingers down, teasingly running them down your skin to your shorts. the ghost of his fingers has your breath caught in your throat and as soon as he reaches your clothed mound, he presses his fingers down. you let out a sound near a gasp and shut your eyes immediately. a harsh slap is delivered to your pussy and you mewl out in pleasure.
“don’t raise your voice at me, understand?” his fingers toying your clothed clit was making it hard for you to voice anything back, so you nod your head instead. “words, baby.” 
oh he was evil.
“y-yes.” he smirked, satisfied with your response. he had never seen you so desperate for him in all the times he had spent with you.
he was aware of the fact that your panties had been soaked with your arousal, wetting his fingers in the process. “tell me what you want, princess.”
you swallowed air, choking on your own words for a second. you couldn’t believe what you were about to ask for. “i want- want you to fuck me...” with the way you trailed off, jungkook was sure it was more than just that, so he quirked a brow, giving you permission to speak further, “want you to fuck me like you hate me.”
something in jungkook seemed to snap because his eyes went a shade darker and an animalistic growl rumbled from deep within his throat.
all of a sudden, you were thrown onto the bed as jungkook got on his knees and tore your panties open, a loud gasp echoed throughout the room.
at first, jungkook took all the time in the world, leisurely toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a moaning mess underneath his tongue, tugging on his bright locks like the floor was lava or something like that. it was only until you begged him to go faster, that he sped up the process of his tongue, assaulting your pussy. his strong grip on your thigh blocked you from distancing yourself from him and whenever you would, he suck on your clit, pulling it into his mouth and using his tongue to abuse the little nub. you grinded your hips into him, embarrassed of how good you were feeling, despite your strong negative feelings towards him on a daily basis. 
“perfect little pussy,” he mumbled against your clit, “made for me to fuck.” that was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, legs shaking, sinful sounds escaping your lips.
but that wasn’t it, he wanted to fuck you like he hated you, so he showed no mercy again when he entered two fingers into you right after your orgasm, the burning stretch making teas accumulate in the corner of your eyes. his mouth was back on your clit, still sensitive mind you, before you could protest any further. his hooded eyes stared at you, wondering how someone could look so beautiful in this situation.
it was only until your back arched off your bed as your mouth was gaped with no sound coming out, fingers holding onto dear life in his hair and pressing his face further between your thighs, that you came for the second time just by his mouth.
it wasn’t like you were against the idea, because in all honesty, you did ask for him to use you, but oh god if you knew the dangerous territory you were stepping in, you would’ve backed away a long time ago.
after you had calmed down from your high, although heart still racing, you slid down to the floor and got on your knees. jungkook wasn’t expecting this, all he wanted to do now was to fuck you until he rearranged your guts, but who was he to back down from your request of sucking his dick.
jungkook was haste to unbuckle his belt, already envisioning how you would look sucking his cock. however, he didn’t have to envision that for too long, because without any restrictions, you licked the crown of his dick, sending a shiver to go down his spine.
as for you, however, you didn’t realize how much you missed his dick until it was right in front of you and you could finally touch it. the pre-cum shined on his tip and it was waiting (im)patiently for you to give it some sort of relief. he reaches down for your hand and brings it to his dick, indicating that you do the action here. you grab it’s base and glide his tip over your mouth, smearing his arousal on your lips.
you part your lips and he allows you to have control over how much you were going to take in. when your warm mouth closes around him, he breathes out loud. you swirl your tongue over the head and taste the salty pre-cum. the feeling of his veiny cock feels so good in your mouth and you couldn’t wait for it to be shoved in your pussy. you start bobbing your head, using your hands for the parts your mouth couldn’t cover.
“oh fuck,” jungkook curses and entangles his fingers in your hair, pushing it back and holding it into a makeshift ponytail. it wasn’t until he wasn’t satisfied with how much you were taking into your mouth, that he starts bucking his hips into your mouth, going slow at first, then deciding to stay at a ruthless pace.
you opened your mouth and slacked your jaw, allowing him to use you as he pleased. jungkook curses underneath his breath when your submissiveness turns him on even more, but he’s quick to guide his cock in and out of your mouth. and truth be told, he could probably do this in his sleep with the amount of times he’s fucked your mouth. you gag around him, eyes glistening with warm tears as he continues his pace. jungkook holds your head when the feeling is too much and he becomes vocal.
letting out loud moans and groans, jungkook goes insane, almost cumming then and there.
but he couldn’t. he wanted to cum inside of your pussy.
your scalp physically hurt when he let go of your hair and slipped his dick out of your mouth, permitting you to catch a breath which he stole.
he picked you up by your waist and threw you on the bed, your head into the soft covers of your bedsheet. jungkook held you by your hips, pulling them up, so your ass was in the air and your head was in the mattress. 
he took his sweet time teasing and making you push your ass back for more, but he wouldn’t give himself to you just yet. he wanted to teach you your lesson.
and once he bottomed out, you moaned into the sheets, aware that you were drooling on them. it just felt that good. you loved it all. loved the way he was balls deep into you, loved the way he gripped your hips that it was going to leave marks, loved the way he was chanting your name like a mantra when you clenched around him, loved the way that he was the one fucking you.
as much as you would hate to admit it, jungkook was an all-rounder; perfect at everything he did whether it be sports, gaming, cooking, fashion. you name it, he could do it. including fucking you and that was your favorite part about him. that no matter how much the two of you hated (and one even loved, but that’s a conversation for another day) each other, you would always go back to each other like two opposites on a magnet. 
this view was nice, but jungkook wanted more. he wanted to see your face contort in pleasure, but at the same time, he wanted to see the way your cunt would take his cock. so, from the corner of his eye, he peeks at the mirror and considers the idea for a bit before moving around on the bed so you guys were in front of the mirror.
“w-what are you doing- mph!” jungkook enters you without even giving you a chance to complete your sentence. he brutally snaps his hips so his dick dives into your pussy, your walls doing nothing but contracting against his shaft.
jungkook bends down and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it as your neck cranes over to see the two of you in the mirror. through your reflection, you could see the way jungkook looks back with the same hungry and lustful eyes. your eyes travelled to your position and the sight alone had you gushing for him, more wetness pooling. you look at the way your hair now looked like (and probably did) it had knots in them, your lipstick smeared across your lips and some parts of it getting on your cheek and chin, your mascara smudged over your eyes. you looked bad, but a good type of bad. it had jungkook ramming his hips into yours even more.
“look at you,” he says although that was what you were doing the whole time, “such a dirty slut. who’s making you feel this good, huh? who?!”
“y-you, oh fuck jungkook, please don’t stop, don’t stop please, i’m going to-”
“don’t you dare.” the way the words came out of jungkook’s chest has your heart rate speeding up and you could’ve sworn he got harder inside of you. 
in response, you mewl and shake beneath him, finding it hard to hold in your orgasm. with the way your vision blurred, you knew you were close, your release so close yet so far away. 
jungkook leaves open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, sucking into your skin, leaving a dark purple mouth he knew you were going to try to cover up the next day. for a little while, jungkook stills his hips, ravishing in the way your mouth is hung open and hands were shaking, trying their best to support the weight of your body. he holds that position, his lips pressing tender kisses on your neck. although you desperately want him to fuck you, another part of you wants to cherish this moment. 
so, you close your eyes in return and moan.
once he finished torturing the delicate skin of your neck, his eyes get drunk on your body, intoxicating him. at first, he watches through the mirror, watching the way your chest heaved for air. his eyes soon travelled to your back, to your ass, where he saw how deep he was buried into your cunt.
“your cunt is taking me so well, babe.”
once he sees that you were ready to take more, he pulls back and in one swift thrust, he pushed into you, a scream ripping through you. he does that again and again, causing the same reaction from you. jungkook once again stops when he’s fully inside of you, torturing you just to make you beg for him. you need him to fuck you relentlessly, so that’s exactly what you vocalize.
“please, jungkook,” your voice is nothing but a whisper, “please fuck me.”
“you should hear yourself, baby, the way you’re desperately begging for me. begging to be fucked,” he chuckles, “you already came once? or was it twice? how greedy can you be.”
“i’m you’re slut, jungkook. please fuck me.”
it was a light switch. something in him flicked and jungkook immediately started snapping his hips into you. “say that again, you little whore. who’s slut are you?”
“jungkook’s. only jungkook’s- fuck!”
he pushed his cock back before slamming into you with both of his hands on your hips. the lewd and slick sound of your pussy and your wetness leaving onto his cock echoes throughout the room and you could’ve sworn jungkook whimpered.
when that wasn’t enough, the sex god behind you takes both of your hands, pulling it behind you, setting yet another brutal pace. he can’t help but wrap his tattooed arms around your small, fragile ones. his eyes lock with yours, your throat protruding a gulp of air you had swallowed. 
“you look so pretty, your hands behind you as i’m fucking you, i wish you could see yourself. fuck,” he rumbles.
you moan at his words, because you couldn’t agree more. his hands were perfect; every inch of your body that he would touch, lick, kiss, all belonged to him. you belonged to him and jungkook was going to make sure you were aware of that by the end of the night tonight.
“moan louder,” he says while thrusting into you. “let everyone hear how much of a little slut you are for me.” he emphasizes the last word. his possessiveness was showing, but did either of you care? no.
as you give him exactly what he wants, he smiles while letting his cock fill you up, his hips hitting against yours with aggression. this all causes sparks of pleasure to coarse through your body, your veins felt like they were lit on fire, but not in the bad way. it was in a way only he could make you feel.
as you look at him through the mirror, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. you watch the way he looks back at you with a cloudiness in his eyes and the way his pink tongue swipe across his bottom lips. jungkook keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with a different urgency every time
“please- jungkook please, i need to cum!” you were begging, not even caring how pathetic you looked and sounded.
“not until i tell you to,” the evil tone in his voice was evident and you didn’t know how longer you could hold in your release.
jungkook noticed the way tears freely fell from your eyes. something took over him, a sense of care. halting his hips, he leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to your neck. “just a little longer, yeah? you’re my good girl, and my good girl can do it. it’ll feel amazing, i promise.” you shuddered, a whole new feeling blossoming inside of you. a radiating warmth coursing throughout your body.
his hands could feel the way your body trembled and quivered underneath him with each thrust. the way he started his merciless pace had you losing yourself to the feeling of lust and desire. your face scrunches up, a feeling of your coil about to snap in your stomach.
jungkook quickly noticed and brings one of his hands which were previously wrapped around your wrists, made their way around your waist and to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. it wasn’t long until you were coming undone, with jungkook whispering praises and sweet nothingness into your ear.
a few moments and pumps later, jungkook feels his dick twitch inside of you. pulling out, he cums on you: your ass, your back, and your cunt.
still feeling high from your euphoria, the two of you stay in that position.
completely mesmerized in your afterglow, jungkook looks at you, you doing the same. the eye contact is far more intimate than what the two of you did just now. he never found anyone more beautiful after sex, but you? it was like a whole new perspective.
jungkook pulls his dick out a grabs a tissue from the table near your bed in order to clean you up, followed by a small, tender kiss pressed onto your temple. “you did so well,” he whispers and you feel your knees become weak. it was either due to exhaustion or because of his words.
you hoped it was not the latter.
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primofate · 3 years
Note
im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox
Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3
QUEUED POST
Scenario: Breaking up
Characters: gn! reader x Albedo
Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?
Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)
Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)
Albedo
Alone.
These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.
You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.
Gone were those days. 
He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.
Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 
“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 
“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 
But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 
‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 
You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.
“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.
“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”
“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”
“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 
“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”
Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”
Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”
You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 
The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 
Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 
This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 
Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.
Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.
“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.
“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”
“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”
A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 
That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.
When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.
Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”
Empty. 
His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 
Empty.
Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.
The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 
He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.
You’re gone. 
Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.
“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 
“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 
“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.
“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 
His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.
“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”
“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”
He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 
He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.
Nothing for him to hold on to.
That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.
That night, he painfully got into bed.
Alone.
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navybrat817 · 3 years
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To the last ask has me thinking that Scott definitely has a housewife kink. Like the whole idea of coming home to a delicious dinner and his favourite "desert" 😉. Has him speeding back home. Thank you anon. Now im going to think about this the whole day.
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It has me thinking about it, too, lovely! So much that I HAD to write this real quick. 😭
Warmed Up
Pairing: Scott Huffman x Female Reader Word Count: Over 920 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, talk of oral sex (f receiving), housewife kink, teasing, Scott Huffman being a sexy beast. Also an AU (HE IS MARRIED TO YOU)
Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own.
I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! Please comment or reblog if you desire!
Scott worked hard to get where he was today. He saw how his mother struggled at times over the years, but always kept her head up. She never let it show how much it hurt to do it alone, but he knew. He vowed never to be like this father, the bastard who left when was five years old and never looked back. He also vowed when he found the one he loved that they would never have to stress or worry the way his mother had to in silence.
One of the things he loved about you right away was how you challenged him. You were smart and knew just when to push. The banter kept him on his toes. But you were also so thoughtful and loving. It was easy to picture you in his home, smiling as you sat with him for a nice homecooked meal. 
The further in love he fell with you, the stronger the urge to take care of you grew. It worried you in the beginning because you wanted to contribute as much as he did. You didn’t want to feel like a “freeloader”. He swore he made more than enough to provide for both of you. And if down the road the two of you have kids, he would feel more at ease knowing that someone would always be there for them.
You negotiated with him. A part-time, work from home job to give you something to break up your day. “Play money” is what you called it. He agreed and appreciated your grit. If anything, he admired you more for working, keeping the house clean and cooking. 
But, fuck, if he didn’t get hard some days walking in the door and seeing you set the table with a smile. Or wiping down the counter in the kitchen as you hummed to yourself. You barely got a word out those days before he had you bent over the nearest surface. You started wearing dresses and skirts after the first couple of trysts. Easier access. 
And something about digging his wedding ring into your skin as he fucked you senselessly made him even harder. A never-ending symbol of the love and vow the two of you made together. It showed that he was yours and the beautiful ring on your finger showed that you were his. Always his.
“Hey, babe,” he smiled into the phone, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the car in front of him. Why wasn’t he driving faster? He had to get home to you.
“Hi,” you smiled back. “On your way?”
“Yeah, if this asshole in front of me actually knew how to drive.”
Your giggle soothed him as his grip on the phone loosened a bit. “You’ll be home before you know it. And I hope you’re hungry because I made your favorite.”
His mouth watered as he sighed. Your cooking was otherworldly. He had no idea how you took simple recipes and made them so wonderful, but you amazed him each time. “I can’t wait.”
“I’m also wearing your favorite dress,” you added.
His grip suddenly tightened again when he heard the softness of your tone. And now all he could think about was that dress clinging to your every curve. “Don’t tease me.”
“And that new lingerie set you bought me. It matches perfectly. Are you going to tear it off or will you keep this one in tact?”
Scott’s eyes slipped shut, but only for a moment. He had to concentrate on the road. He loved and hated lingerie. It looked beautiful on you, but it always hid his prize. The only things that should touch you were his hands, mouth and cock. “Sweetheart…”
He heard the sharp inhale on the other end. It was always “babe”... except when you pushed. Then it was “sweetheart”. And you knew that. “But, Scott… I thought it would be the perfect dessert.”
He swore as he honked his horn, trying to get the fucker in front of him to move. “Tell me about my dessert.”
“It’s warm…” you began and he could picture you opening your legs as you said it. “And sweet… It’s going to make your mouth water.”
He licked his lips, wondering if those new panties were soaked. He loved how wet you got for him. “And what if I want that first? Something sweet to coat my tongue?”
He wasn’t one of those men who refused to please his significant other. You did work hard and getting his fill of you was just one way he showed that he appreciated you. Spreading you out like a feast as his tongue lapped at your folds and tight hole was the stuff dreams were made of.  He was addicted to your taste. And your cries. 
“You may just skip dinner completely. My dessert is that good.”
He groaned as the car finally, fucking finally, sped up. “I’m pretty fucking hungry, babe. I don’t think I can have just one serving if I’m skipping my meal.”
He licked his lip again when you moaned. “That’s the beauty of this particular dessert. It’s yours and you can eat however much you want.”
“I want you on the table. Right where I sit. Legs over the edge,” he ordered as he turned. Thank fuck he was almost home. He was straining in his pants. “And hike your dress up. I want the perfect view when I sit down.”
“Yes, Mr. Huffman. And don’t worry. I’ll keep it warmed up for you.”
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heythere525 · 2 years
Text
Two Adorable DorksUwU
Tssm Otto Octavius x Reader
I wanted to get on the Otto train because he honsetly is so adorable, and i haven't seen that much for tssm Otto, which there SHOULD be more because have you seen this precious cinnamon bunUwU
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HE DESERVES LOVE DAMNIT😂
Anyway onto the fic
All fluffUwU
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You were assigned to Oscorp after Norman Osborn heard of your work, you were already working in a lab before but when Norman offered to find you a place closer to his company and more money you decided it was time for a change and agreed. Little did you know Norman was only playing the part of a gentlemen. "Now y/n this is where you will be able to work, i've heard your work requires a bit more space than others" Norman said.
He had promised you all the room you needed for your work and oh boy did he come through, you smiled and looked around, "thank you Mr. Osborn, its more than i expected", "well there is ONE thing, you do have to share this space with another but don't worry you won't even notice him" Norman smirked. It was a little mean to say that to someone but it slipped your mind when you heard someone come in mummbling. "Ah Otto there you are" Norman turned to face him, "this is y/n they will be sharing the space with you". Otto looked up from his clipboard on time to see you turn and face him.
He felt like time had stopped as he stared into your eyes, never had he seen someone as, adorable or gorgeous as you. You also had the same exact thought and feeling as Otto, his adorable dorky glasses almost matched yours but your glasses were round. Otto at first wasn't too sure about sharing the space with someone, but if that someone was you he didn't mind at all. Now he just hopped he'd be able to actually get work done without being distracted by you.
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It didn't take long for you to settle in and get working, It took only a day and a half for all your work to come in. You had explained to Otto what you specialized in and what you were currently working on, goodness he was in trouble because he felt himself falling so fast for you that it was so hard to form words the first day you met. "I see your things came in" Otto said standing next to you as you aranged some things you were working on, "yes it was nice of Mr. Osborn to bring them so quickly". Otto completely disagreed with you because nice and Osborn don't go together.
Just then one of your tools rolled off of your desk, you bent down to reach it but instead of grabbing your tool, your hand landed on Otto's who tried to pick up your tool for you. Your faces were just centimeters away from each other and both of you turned as red as a tomato, Otto squeaked and quickly rose to his feet. "I-i ap...pologize y/n, i-ii didn't meant to....to" he stammed but you cut him off, "its alright Otto i appreciate the h-help". God you felt like a fool, of course you'd make this moment more cringy then it should have been by stuttering too.
___________________________________________
Otto enjoyed your company, it was 100% better than Norman's or anyone elses, and you treated him like a human, "who knew someone like them would ever be this kind to someone like me" he thought to himself. "Otto? Otto?" You snapped him back to his thoughts, you were now also assigned to help Otto if he needed it, but it was only a few times where Otto called you over for help, he knew your work was important to you. "O-oh dear it seems my mind was elsewhere y/n, now what was it you were saying?" ".......i didn't say anything, you've been holding the screwdriver for 3 minutes in mid air and i was wondering if you were okay". For a genius Otto has never felt more stupid, he'd been so busy thinking about you he forgot about the work Osborn ordered him to do.
His face flushed, "y-yes im alright" he turned away, "Otto?" Ohhh the way you called his name always sent shivers up his spine, it was like your voice teased him in the best way possible. He turned to face you once again and was met with your loving eyes, he loved to stare at them, they were always so full of wonder, love, and creativity that he could never look you in the eye for long. "I think you need a break" you told him, "i couldn't possibly go on a break now y/n Norman would-" "would understand, plus i doubt you've eaten anyway". You were right, Otto can't even remember if he had eatten that day and it was getting late.
But he feared what Norman would say if he found him not working, "y/n i would love to take a break but...but Mr. Osborn he.......well" he rubbed the back of his neck, "please?" Oh god. How could he say no to you, how could be possibly think of upsetting you by saying no to your adorable face. Otto knew you had him wrapped around your finger.
___________________________________________
You had just found out how scary Mr. Osborn could be. You were late in completing a piece of your work and he had yelled at you and threatened you. All you could do was stand there and nod, now you knew why Otto never wanted to get on his bad side. You couldn't cry now, your at work. That would be embarrassing, especially when your only almost 3 months in. You saddly shuffled to your side of the lab, Otto noticed your change in you leaving and arriving the lab. "Y/n? Are you alright?" He asked not coming over to you.
"Huh? O-oh ya im fine" you would not let Otto see you cry. "What happend? Why did Mr. Ozborn want to see you?" "He wanted to see how my work was coming", Otto's eyes widened, he knew how you've been struggling with this point in your invention. "You.....you had no progress" Otto said and you shook you head. Once Otto came closer to you he saw your eyes had tears. He had never felt such pain till now, how could Norman be so mean to someone like you. Otto understood why he was like that to him but YOU, this was something unforgivable.
But when you turned to Otto you smiled and giggled. Otto's brows raised, "you have something on your face Otto", as Otto looked at himself through the glass he could see he had smeared something black on his cheek. But when he tried to rub it off it only made it worse. "Here let me", you grabbed a rag you had and gently cleaned his face. Otto took in a breath that he's sure you heard but your touch just felt so right. And he was glad your tears were gone.
___________________________________________
"Stupid machine, i get you to work and now what? Your broken again" you mumbled to what you were working on in your hand. Otto from his side of the lab giggled at how adorable you got when mad. Just then your mumbling turned into a yelp as you dropped what you were working on. Otto saw you hold your hand in pain and rushed over, "y/n! What happened? Are you alright?" "Ya im fine but this stupid thing shocked me". "Let me see" Otto said taking out his hand asking for yours, you gently placed your hand in his and Otto was amazed just how tiny your hand was compared to his but fit so well.
But he couldn't think of that right now he had to make sure you were alright. The only thing on your hand was a black little spot from where it burned you. "Well you seem fine, and your not in pain anymore so you'll be okay" he said, you smiled, "thanks for coming to my rescue Otto, your the best!" Otto's heart lept in joy and the blush on his face spread everywhere. Oh god how you loved him.
___________________________________________
"Would you like to see it?" Otto asked, "Of course!" Otto had finally finished his invention after having you work there for 6 months, and wanted to show you before anyone else. Though he did get embarrassed having to undress a bit in front of you that the blush of his face was on his chest. Though Otto wasn't the only one blushing because getting to see him in a tank top was a dream come true. He explained to you how his alculaters worked and what they were supposed to do. "Wow Otto this is incredible!" You said seeing the alculators move and wiggle in excitement.
"Really? You think so?" He clasped his hands to his chest, "of course, your absolutely amazing Otto". His alculators kept wiggling in his happines and you thought it was the most precious thing you've ever seen.
___________________________________________
"I-i promise Mr. Osborn that it will be up and w-working i swear!" Otto said cowering before Norman, "it had better Otto or else! Don't think i can't just have you replaced, you will do as i say" Otto whimpered, he hated looking to weak like this. "STOP!" Otto and Norman turned to see that you had shouted but you looked just as scared as Otto, "what was that y/n?" Norman asked walking towards you. "You-you can't treat him like that, h- he's a person too M-Mr. Osborn, a person that h-has done great things for your companies na-name". You were standing up for him. Otto couldn't believe it. You hated to see Otto treated so cruel when he was absolutely the sweetest guy you've ever met.
Norman now stood in front of you and smirked, "well glad to see someone around here has a backbone, but this is the last time you talk to me like that y/n. Am. I. Understood?" You nodded and Norman walked off. Norman left the room and Otto rushed up to hug you, you gasped at the contact, Otto felt so warm and soft. The belt around him was cold but Otto's giant arms and cest brought you into the warmest and best hug you've ever felt. In your shock you wrapped your arms around Otto's neck, careful of the chip and metal on his spine.
"Oh darling that was so brave of you and courageous standing up to him like that! You were absolutely outstanding! And you did it for me, but why?" Otto said but you slowly pulled away, a blush on your face. "Did....did you just call me darling?" Otto's eyes widened at his mistake and he now realized how close you two were, he immediately let you go. "I.......well......you see........im.....im s-sorry-" "no Otto don't apologize, i like it, and i stood up for you because im not gonna let anyone talk to the person i love like that" you admitted.
"I......you......love?" Otto couldn't believe it, "you....you love me?" He said barley above a whisper. "Of course i do! What's not to love about you Otto? Your kind, brilliant, loving, gorgeous, you want to prove yourself but you have nothing to prove because you already are amazing, and i love you just because your you, you mean the world to me". Otto thought he might cry. Hearing everything you said about him, all the good you saw in him. It was like he finally meant something to someone.
Otto couldn't speak rigut now that he didn't even know how to respond to everything lovely you just said. "Y/n i....i love you too.....so much, and if i could form more words i would darling believe me". You then pulled Otto down so quickly, Otto gasped and his alculators froze. Your lips were the sweetest thing Otto had ever tasted, he never thought he would ever experience how perfect your lips felt against him. Once the shock left him, Otto sweetly kissed you back gently cupping the sides of your face in his big hands. His alculators then began to wiggle so fast again.
As you both pulled away with your faces so flushed you both smiled. "What do you say to some dinner? Cause im starving?" You laughed, Otto laughed along side you and gently held one of your hands in his. "That sounds lovely darling".
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