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#could i have done a better job on the ruffles?
mubbsy · 7 months
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timidly offers you this like a young child with a mudpie
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife
"How could you cheat on your wife?"
Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.
All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.
"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"
She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.
Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."
And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.
Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"
She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.
"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.
"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.
"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"
"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.
She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."
It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"
"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."
A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.
"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"
That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.
"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.
"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.
"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."
She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"
"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.
"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."
"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.
"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."
"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.
"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"
"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.
"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.
"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."
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queers-gambit · 9 months
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Neon Sticky Notes
prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.4k+
note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...
warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!
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You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.
It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.
By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.
However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.
So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.
Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.
You had an idea.
When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"
"Yeah, all good."
"Sure? Sound outta breath."
"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."
He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."
"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."
"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."
"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.
You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.
The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!
Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!
Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.
Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!
You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.
Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.
When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.
This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.
Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.
Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!
Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.
Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!
Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!
Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!
Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!
Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.
Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!
Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!
Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!
And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully
Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.
The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..
Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!
And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!
Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.
The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.
You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.
"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.
"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.
He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"
"What'd you get?"
"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.
"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.
"Like it?"
"Are these... My hearts?"
He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."
"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"
He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."
"You'd still be Carmy."
"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."
"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."
"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."
You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.
Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.
You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.
Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."
Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.
Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
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melrodrigo · 7 months
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my hair
Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader
Summary: Wednesday lets you braid her hair.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: I don’t think I used any pronouns, so it’s gender neutral really (at least i think so, i can’t rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grande’s ‘my hair’. happy halloween 🎃!
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“Wednesday.”
The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.
“Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.” You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.
She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.
She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing she’s been trying to get better at, for you. It’s hard, but she’s morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.
You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.
It’s something you’ve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.
She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesn’t let anyone else but you touch it.
Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.
You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.
“Ms. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.” You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.
She’s still only a second before she’s sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.
“You did sneak in, didn’t you?” She asks.
You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.
“Yes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.” You recount, from just the night before.
She turns to you, eyes squinted.
The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasn’t aware it could do. She’ll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.
Your hair’s a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.
She ponders about your words just a moment before she’s speaking again.
“Good. She should know that you’ll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.” She says, finally.
You grin, childlike.
She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.
“Do my hair?” She asks, almost more of a command than a question.
You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. She’s never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.
Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that you’ll say yes.
You could never say no to your girl, after all.
You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.
“Enid better not come in and see this.” Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.
“It would be better than when she came in last night while we were-“ Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.
She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one you’d given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.
You gulp as you realize what you’ve signed up for.
She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.
“Okay..braids.” You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.
To her credit, Wednesday doesn’t say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how you’ve done it.
But you aren’t that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And you’re self aware, you know you haven’t done the greatest job.
It’s not horrible, by any means. But it’s just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.
One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.
“Are you finished?” Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.
You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.
You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.
“Absolutely not.” She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.
You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.
“Just one?” You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.
Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.
“Love you so much.” You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.
You better, she thinks.
“Now, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. You’ve already made me soft. Don’t make me unpunctual too.” She says, the edge coming back to her voice.
“Wait, are you actually gonna go out like that?” You ask, a little shocked.
“Going to, y/n. There is no such word as ‘gonna’.” She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure you’ll be hurrying after her in minutes.
-
Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. You’re not late, but everyone’s there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.
“Um..Wednesday?“ Enid sounds from the back of the class, “Why does your hair look like that? And are you wearing a bow?”
You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?
One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again come to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.
“My hair is normal. And I quite like the bow.” She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that that’s the end of the story.
Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.
That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly kiss on the cheek, words muffled by the door.
“Love has made me so feeble.” She mumbles dejectedly.
You push open the door, pretending you didn’t hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.
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angelfoxx · 7 months
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Coddling Keegan while giving him a handjob😖😖he’s cuddled up to you, head buried in your neck while your hand pumps his cock slow nd sloppy, whines a little when you pay attention to his tip, rubbing it with your thumb, “feels good, baby? Hm?” While ruffling his hair❤️❤️
“You wanna cum, sweet boy? Yeah?” You murmur, practically babying him🫶🫶
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┊ ➶ 。˚ ° ❝ SWEET BOY? ❞
…in which a very tired keegan gets special treatment.
FEATURING: keegan p russ (duh)
WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. mild overstim. mentions of crying. whoopsie
NOTE/S: hi anon hope u know i read this and my stomach clenched up. sorry just thought u should be aware
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“Feel good?” Your voice is just a soft murmur, sickeningly sweet and practically dripping in endearment. “Is that good, Kee?”
The only response you get is a breathy half-groan.
Poor Keegan. Genuinely. He’d come back from what he dubbed a shit mission this past afternoon; nothing too risky. Just a job that the “regular” recruits hit a wall with. A job that he had to go finish, because apparently the general force couldn’t get the fucking thing done.
His next assignment? Tomorrow afternoon. Approximately twelve hours from now, he’d be out again.
The poor guy was fucking exhausted. Hell, he’d called you that morning from the bed of the truck, and…you know why he had to go, you know that it’s his job and all, but…Christ, he’d sounded so tired. Tired and strained and done. Every nerve in your body had been screaming at you to fawn over him the minute he got home; a warm bath, a hot mug of tea (black). Some soup, bowl steaming. Hell, you’d been wringing your hands together at the mere thought of washing his hair. It had become a regular practice at this point; whenever he came back from an assignment, you’d be there to give him a soft landing upon arriving home.
This time around, you didn’t have the time for that. Despite his arguments, you’d probably have a word with whatever shit-for-brains commander had been in charge of putting him on back-to-back assignments.
To focus on the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Keegan had told you he didn’t want all of the fancy stuff; tea, sure. Soup, sure. The bath and everything? No, he’d just shower.
He wanted a hot mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and then he wanted you to make him feel better in the best way you knew how.
Hence; your current position.
You hadn’t even made it to the bed. Keegan hadn’t even finished his fucking soup. He’d been staring into it like a ghost; gaze vacant, face empty, eyeblack staining his skin charcoal-gray. Hell, the man had just thrown whatever clothes he could find on; just a plain white tee and sweats. For once, he hasn’t been careful with his gear; he’s got it slung haphazardly across the chair beside him. His fucking rifle is sitting on the thing like it’s also eating soup.
He didn’t have to say much. He just kind of shifted and looked you in the eye; sat back, opened his legs a little wider.
Upon swinging a leg over him and sitting in his lap, Keegan had all but deflated.
He’d smelled like soap. Kind of tasted like it, too. Either he had scrubbed off a layer of skin in the shower or he’d just neglected to fully rinse all of the shampoo out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t mind; the fact that he smelled vaguely of vanilla (because for some reason he continued to take your shampoo and not use his own) and he was just slumped back in the chair, weakly holding onto your head as you littered a trail of little marks along his throat…
…oh, sweet boy.
He thought the pet name was stupid. Usually. He’d laugh at you if you called him by it in most situations; the day he’d apparently decided it was safe enough to kiss you goodbye before he boarded the plane to head out on an assignment, you’d called him a sweet boy and Keegan, fully geared up in his vest and helmet with probably five different weapons strapped on around his waist, had just whistled and hummed in response.
Sweet boy, carrying a rifle and a knife and god-fucking-knows-what-else.
Now, though, he doesn’t complain. Either because he’s too tired to or because, right now, even he knows that it’s fitting. Big, beefy soldier, pretty blue eyes rolled back, pretty pink lips parted and pretty little mouth too tired to fight the quiet little noises that would normally remain buried under his tongue. His brow knits, and his nostrils flare, and — oh — his chest rises and his breath hisses in through his nose.
A fat pearl of pre swells up on his tip for a moment before you run your thumb over it and spread it across the blunt round of his cockhead.
It’s not fair to him. Maybe. You’re going so slow and you’re just lazily stroking him but he doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, not at all. His brow knits and his mouth opens a little further; he lets out a short, hoarse breath, chest puffing up before it shudders back down and the muscles along his neck flex.
“Deep breaths, Kee.” You lean forward, kissing the side of his cheek and biting back a grin when his entire body shudders. “Easy.”
“I’m ff…fffuckin’ trying.” Keegan’s voice is rough, strained breathlessly thin. “I’m ff…uhhhckin’ trying, princess, but…”
“Can’t?” You smile, body shuddering. “Aw. Sweet boy.”
Keegan tries to shoot you a glare. He tries. One squeeze of your hand closing over his cockhead has him tensing up again, head tipping back and jaw clenching up as he bites back another groan.
You don’t say anything. You could tease him more (hell, you’d be jumping at the chance any other time), but right now he’s almost pitiful. Sore, exhausted, run-down and on a tight deadline to head back out tomorrow.
The man deserves a break. He doesn’t deserve to be mocked. So you keep your mouth shut (at least, in regards to taunting him) and you tease your thumb over his slit in slow little circles.
Keegan’s body shudders. From somewhere deep in his chest, he groans, brow knitting and eyes squeezing shut. His hips buck up; his cock slides through your grasp, swollen and slick. He’s aching for release, aching for it; it’s like his self-control has been put out to float on a raft and is just drifting towards total euphoric collapse. His head lolls on his neck; he’s in a daze, exhaustion and pleasure mixing like a dreamy cocktail in his system.
“I’ll get a nice bath ready for you after this assignment. Sound good?” You grin as you swish your thumb over his tip and he stiffens, body wound tight and eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn’t give you a verbal response; he just groans, one of his hands pawing uselessly at your waist. His big hands, gloved hands, rough and callous…
The throaty auh Keegan lets out brings your head back into reality, just in time to see his jaw drop and his pretty lips form a pink O as his eyes squint and his lashes flutter. His cock jerks in your hands, and a dribble of thin pre runs down the joints of your fingers. His hips buck up; under that thin layer of cotton, you feel his abdomen flex tight.
Apparently embarrassed at his own sound, Keegan turns his face towards you. Messily, he thrusts his lips at yours; when your body ripples and your hand flexes, he groans, low and tired into your mouth. His skin is hot; he’s flustered, but he’s too tired to do much about it.
“You gonna fall asleep on me after this?” You manage a quiet laugh. “No real rounds?”
Keegan groans. His voice, when it does manage to come out, is throaty and hoarse. There’s a sort of grumble in his voice, a sort of sleepy drawl that has your knees weak. “Shit, if you want…”
You giggle, biting your tongue when you skim the tips of your fingers over the ridge of his head and he tenses, teeth sinking into his lip. “I don’t think you can, Kee. I really don’t.”
“Shut it.” Though his tone is gruff, a tease of your finger over his leaking slit has Keegan’s head lolling back and his eyes, pretty pools of sapphire blue, roll back as his lashes flutter. “I’ll just lay there. You…nngh…you can just get on top an’…”
Keegan’s body shudders. His shoulders lift off the back of the chair; there’s a tremor deep in his belly that you can feel under your hand as he slumps back again, stomach rolling forward and hips rolling up. His abdomen clenches and sucks in so hard you can see the outline of his abs through his shirt, despite the loose fit.
Close.
You’ve learned his bodily cues by now. He tenses, starts to breathe hard — you can hear air rasping in and out of his nose — and, yeah, he paws around until he can grab onto your wrist, fingers wrapping around the spot right under your hand. He’s funny like that; you wouldn’t catch him dead pitying himself, telling you he was nothing but your little play-thing — but god, the quiver in his hand and the tremor in his breath is so, so far away from dominant. It’s so far away from being in control. If anything, he’s feeling your control; he’s feeling your pulse pick up as you shift on his lap, he’s feeling your arm tense as you bite your lip and stroke quicker, faster, twist your hand, and — oh — he’s gripping tight as you swipe your hand at just the right angle, pull it flush against the base of his cock and pump up and —
The strangled cry that comes out of Keegan’s mouth is strained and loosely contained. His jaw snaps shut, his lips seal; his hips buck up, and there’s a soft scuffle as his feet shove against the ground and his socks give him no traction to hold on.
You see the corded muscle of his neck swell at the same time that you feel a ribbon of something hot and sticky squirt up your forearm.
Five times. Five times, Keegan’s hips jerk up; his head turns either way, and his eyes squeeze shut for the first two jolts. They start to open; they flutter, roll back. Close again for the third. The same goes for the fourth. The fifth, though, his eyes open when his hips twitch, and when you try to meet his gaze you look into bottomless blue hues lidded and vague with euphoria.
The blunt edges of his nails dig into your wrist right under a streak of cum. The stuff strings your arm and webs beneath it, threatening to drip onto his thighs. Not that he’d mind, probably. Not now, at least. He’s too weak and tired to really care. Too busy groaning, sound contained deep in his chest, body rippling as pleasure tides over him. Over…and over…and over.
“Feel better?” You prompt the question in a soft voice after a long moment of silence for him to recover. Not that he had any performance issues — just tired, like this, pushed flat-out for too long…he has this worn, beaten look on his face. Barely lifted after everything.
“Yeah.” Despite that, Keegan’s response comes quick; breathless, but quick. His eyes shift over to meet yours, and Christ, if he looked tired before…
“Kee.” The note of pity that leaks into your voice is entirely instinctual. When you lean forward, his breathing staggers; he sort of half-laughs when you run your thumb over his three-fourths lidded eyes, weakly turning away from the contact. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Kee.” You repeat his name, more seriously this time. “Kee, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I’m not.” Keegan shakes his head; as if to prove his point, he shifts a little in his seat, pulling himself slightly more upright.
“You look like it. You look so tired.” You lean forward, this time; it’s an effort to push his hair back, and one that he leans away from. “Keegan. Let me take care of you.”
In response, he only laughs. It’s a tired laugh, one that rasps in his chest, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he replies, his tone isn’t serious. “You’ve got it on your hands.”
so sorry for my absence. my cod hyperfixation chilled the fuck out a little whoopsie anyways
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shu-porang-porang · 2 months
Text
Soft Currents
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A short drabble that turned out longer than I intended!
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / gn!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Fluff, Suggestive, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: sexual content (hand job), not proofread
Word count: 1 k
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It was a busy day but you were by his side every step of it despite his insistence on you staying in the hotel coz you’d already seen the first day of the event, the second one was gonna be the same and it could be tiring, but you accompanied him on this trip to spend more time with him, even if that meant staying out of their hair and watching from a distance, you were still gonna keep as close to him as possible.
You watched them perform from the backstage, the fans screaming from the top of their lungs reminded you how lucky you were to end up with him as your boyfriend and not just an idol who you had to worship from miles away.
When the show was nearing its end, you went back to the hotel alone, as much as you wanted to stay there and congrats them on the great job they did, it wasn’t safe to leave at the same time as they did, exiting the same door, getting in one of the cars lined up for them, you couldn’t risk letting the fans find out.
After an hour or so spending alone, Minho opens the door to your shared hotel room and you greet him with a hug.
“I’m drenched in sweat” he warns you as he only throws his arms around you and keeps your bodies apart.
“I don’t care, I miss you” you say as you sniff his neck, actually he smells nice, or that’s how it seems to you, his cologne mixed with his scent is intoxicating, you try to hug him closer but he slips out of your embrace.
“Let me take a quick shower and then you can hug me as much as you want, okay?”                      
You just stand there with your hands on your sides, pouting more than needed just to put up a show.
“Be back soon” he kisses your pout and disappears into the bathroom.
 You go through the TV channels as you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed, waiting for him. He finally emerges from the shower, with a towel around his waist and a smaller one around his neck gathering the droplets falling from his wet hair.
As astonishing as he looks, you don’t give him any attention, still a bit pissed that he didn’t hug you properly earlier. He sees you on the bed and can’t help but slotting himself between your legs, leaning back on you and intentionally pressing you hard to the headboard while chuckling at your struggles to push him away.
“Get off! You’re suffocating me!” you squeal and playfully punch him on the shoulder.
“Say you’re not mad”
“Okay I’m not mad, you big baby!”
He stops messing with you and sits up.
“Why didn’t you dry your hair? My shirt got all wet from the water dripping from it” you complain but you’re actually glad he didn’t do it, coz it means you get to dry it and that’s one of your favorite things to do, attending to a soft fluffy Minho after a shower. You remove the towel from around his neck and gently pat his hair with it to soak up the water.
When you’re done, you run your fingers through his hair, ruffling it up, making sure it’s dry enough so he won’t catch a cold. You throw the towel aside and wrap your arm around him to pull him back to your hug. He leans back and rests his head on your shoulder, then closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. You watch his perfect face for a few moments, cheeks still flushed from the shower, his skin feels warm and a little damp.
You kiss the vein on the side of his neck, your lips wander on the tender skin, he tilts his head for you so you have better access. He hums in approval as you lick his earlobe and suck on it a bit. Your hands roam on his toned chest, gently massaging his pecs. As your lips keep kissing wherever they can reach, your hands travel south and play around the hem of the towel still covering his waist.  
He reads your intentions and protests: “Babe, I’m too tired for that”
“You don’t need to do anything, just relax and enjoy” you say waiting for his permission, which he gives by turning his head and kissing your lips.
You keep kissing as you peel the towel away and press your palm on his still quite soft cock. You give it a couple of strokes before reaching for his balls and play with the sac. He lets out little whimpers which you swallow. It doesn’t take long for him to get hard, you map the veins running along it with your fingertips, how you wish you could do it with your tongue instead, but this position seems suitable for the moment, you don’t wanna disturb it. You work him fast, moving your hand up and down his shaft and turning your wrist the way you know he likes. You smear the oozing precum along his member, making the movements even more enjoyable. Every now and then you tug his balls and louder moans leave his mouth. Every time your thumb brushes on the tip or pokes at the underside, his hips go up, fucking himself into your hand.
He can’t focus on kissing you anymore as he’s nearing his climax, he nuzzles his face to your neck, his little huffs of air are hot on your skin. A few more strokes and with a loud moan, he cums in ropes of white on his stomach and your hand. He sucks on your neck as you help him ride his orgasm, all the cum covering your hand and his cock make the obscenest squelching sounds that gather more arousal in your already soaked panties. When his cock goes limp in your hand, you grab the damp towel that you used to dry his hair earlier to clean his abdomen and your hand.
He shifts on the bed so he’s no longer leaning on you, instead he lies on his side next to you “That was so good, love. Thank you” he says as he wraps his arms around you, dragging you down so you’re lying too.
You cup his face: “you worked hard, you deserved it” you kiss him deep and slow. He pulls you closer and falls asleep with you in his arms.  
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nats--sw · 6 months
Text
In your head | Leah Williamson
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Leah Williamson x reader It's England's match against the Netherlands, and your girlfriend is willing to do anything to win. Warnings: I think you may find some of the comments a little suggestive. note: set in England's last game, but I changed a few things here and there
You hadn't seen Leah for days, each of you in a different country preparing for a big game as it was every time England played the Netherlands. Your team a little more comfortable than Leah's in terms of qualification, but you would be playing at Wembley in front of an abysmal crowd and as Leah used to say, "The English are never done", so at the end of the day it was a tough game.
At your feet was the chance for your girlfriend to qualify for the Olympics next year, but there was also the chance to take your team to the Olympics.
"Good morning, Miss England" Jill sat down next to you for breakfast, ruffling your hair as she passed behind you.
"Shut up" you said arranging your hair back to how it was before "Why are you only picking on me, Viv is sitting right in front of me and no one says anything to her."
Viv raised her head and smiled mischievously. "Don't drag me into your fights, kiddo."
"Well Viv's face doesn't change every time she has to play against her girlfriend" Jill said as if it was nothing "But you instead haven't smiled for days because you keep thinking about how you don't want to kick your girlfriend's ass."
"These are tough days" you muttered lowering your head "This week it's this game, but then when I go back to England it's Arsenal against Chelsea".
That was another factor, you were playing for Chelsea, having only just won a starting place this season, and winning that game would mean securing the top spot in the table, but Arsenal was desperate for those 3 points and of course Leah was too.
"You're messing with your own head," Viv commented, folding her arms on the table, "Leah knows how to separate things and you should do the same."
"Just worry about giving 100% of yourself" said Jill patting you on the back "Because I assure you Leah will."
"How was the flight?" Leah looked radiant through the screen, smiling practically from ear to ear "You look tired".
"Uh... yeah, I didn't get much sleep during the flight" you mentioned settling better in your bed "How have you been feeling these days? No complications during training?"
Leah narrowed her eyes "Are you trying to get information out of me?"
"What?! Of course not!" you quickly defended yourself "I'm concerned about the physical health of my girlfriend who is apparently going to have her first game as a starter since her injury"
"I'll pretend I believe you" Leah replied laughing "But everything's fine, according to Sarina I'm fit enough to start."
"Good news then"
"Huh, tell your face that" muttered Leah frowning "You know you don't have to go easy on me during the game, right?"
"Yeah" A lie.
"Babe, we're professionals, it's our job to do this. A lot can happen in a match, whoever wins this isn't better than the other, okay? Everything will still be fine."
"I know... it just feels weird."
Leah disappeared for a few seconds from your screen.
"Uh, the girls are calling me. I should go, but please stop thinking about us like that, okay? Go to sleep, I love you."
"Hm, I love you more. Bye."
The atmosphere in the stadium was overwhelming, the energy of the crowd could be felt from the tunnel.
"Looking good, number 25" Leah's voice sounded behind you.
"Uh, you too" you muttered without even turning to look at her, your eyes fixed on Jill's back, who was watching the situation out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh… but love, you haven't even looked at me" her tone was full of teasing. That plus the mixture of her perfume in the air was starting to get to you, "Babe?" your girlfriend's fingers took your chin and made you turn to look at her. "Hi" her smile was dazzling, she knew she was getting what she wanted "How do I look?" she asked raising her eyebrow.
You looked her up and down instinctively, did she look better than usual today? Probably. She always looked good when she wore her England kit, but today she looked amazing.
"You look... amazing" you replied almost as if Leah's gaze had you under a spell.
"What the fuck" Jill turned away, fed up with the situation, slapping Leah's arm to get her to let you go "Get out of here, Williamson."
Leah immediately raised her hands, pretending to be innocent, when she saw Daan also approaching to see what was going on.
"Good luck" she said looking at them and walked off to the start of the tunnel but not before winking at you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" said Jill giving you a little shake.
"What?"
"Your girlfriend is getting in your head" Daan said looking sideways at Leah who was still smiling "Please YN, we all here know Leah, we knew it was going to be like this because she needs to win this game"
"I told you Leah would give her 100%, and if she's resorting to these stunts it's because she doesn't care if she has to beat you, she'll get it one way or another." said Jill "Listen to me, you will go out there, do your job, you will destroy Earps goal and only after that you will remember again that your girlfriend is the England captain, do you hear me?" this time Jill whispered in your ear as all the other girls from the England team had arrived in the tunnel.
"Okay, enough you two" you said getting a little annoyed "I'm a professional woman, I won't let my relationship affect my work and you should trust me as my teammates and friends.”
"We just want to make sure that-"
"No, I'm not a child who should be told what to do, now shut up you two" was the last thing you said to focus your eyes straight ahead, totally concentrated.
You were so focused on the game that you didn't even notice Daan and Jill high fiving behind you.
The first goal for your team came after the first 10 minutes, thanks to you and your ability to leave Lucy Bronze behind you. You also had another advantage, it wasn't the first time you had faced Earps so you knew where to shoot at the right time, so it was no surprise that your shot ended up in the back of the net.
Jill was the first to jump on you as you ran to a corner of the stadium where you could see some fans wearing the Netherlands shirt.
"That's what I was talking about!" Jill shouted in your ear as she kept hugging you.
Leah was watching out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Lucy, her jaw clenched thinking about how hard it would be to stop you.
Lucy was the one in charge of marking you, but now on every corner kick the person behind you was your girlfriend.
"Nice goal" she murmured close to your ear.
It was the first corner kick in favour of the Netherlands, so you were scared when you heard her voice, thinking that another girl would mark you.
You didn't say anything back, just pressed your elbow against her abdomen when you felt her too close.
"Too bad it was the last one." She muttered again, this time placing a hand on your waist and squeezing.
"Get the fuck off" you mumbled, starting to move from side to side to get her off.
"That's cute" was the last thing she said before the ball was kicked into the box, specifically looking for your head, but finding Leah's head first, who had no trouble clearing it out of the box.
"Shit" you muttered, glancing at Leah who was ignoring you again to focus on her team's counterattack.
"Focus on the game, YN" Vic said walking past you, giving you an encouraging pat on your back.
The first half ended with the Netherlands holding a one-goal lead. You had had a couple of chances at goal, but now in addition to having Lucy behind you, Leah was making a double effort to mark you in the same way, managing three times to get the ball away from you as cleanly as possible, as she always did.
During the half time talk no one mentioned the issue of Leah getting into your head, because from the look on your face everyone could tell that you were 100% focused on the game.
There were only 45 more minutes to go.
But to increase the lead you only needed 20.
"Hey, gorgeous" Leah's voice was in your ear again at another corner kick.
"God, shut the fuck up" you said pulling your body back, pushing her away. Leah, taking advantage of your action, raised her arms when she saw the referee signalling for you to stop the contact.
"You know what you do to me when you talk like that?" she whispered pressing her body against you once her teammates blocked the referee's view "It makes me want to make you- Hey!"
Before Leah could finish her words, your elbow had hit her abdomen hard.
"You two!" the referee came running up to where you were, giving words of warning to you and Leah.
"Come on love, let's be professional" Leah said once the referee left, her face was serious, but you knew her tone of voice showed how much she was enjoying the whole situation.
"Yeah, professionals" you muttered before you heard the referee's whistle.
The ball this time didn't go to your head, but to Daan's head instead, who's attempt unfortunately hit the crossbar, making the ball bounce back to your feet, Leah away from you because she had gone to clear Daan's first attempt.
It wasn't the best position to shoot, you didn't use your good foot either, but still the ball hit the net with the little push you gave it.
Now the Netherlands was 2 goals up on the scoreboard.
The whole team went up to you, celebrating between the rest of the English players who looked at each other blankly, including Leah, who was shaking her head with her hands resting on her waist.
It was all up to you to score a third goal, there were still 15 minutes left, not counting extra time. In a counterattack you were left with only Earps in front of you, but Lucy didn't hesitate to put her foot between your legs making you fall.
The foul had been called and Lucy had got a yellow card, because although she had made you fall it was not a red card action. But after a minute you were still on the ground.
You had fallen badly, with your wrist taking all your weight, plus apparently you had hit your head, or so said Vic who was the first to get to your side to keep you on the ground.
"The stretcher is coming" she said brushing some of the dirt and grass off your face.
"Babe? What hurts?" for the first time in the whole match you heard the tone of voice that Leah was used to using with you, a tone full of softness. One of her hands was placed on your abdomen, and she used her other hand to help Vic wipe your face.
"It's my hand," was all you said, opening your eyes to see that she was kneeling next to you. You weren't sure, but it felt like Leah let out a sigh when she heard that the problem was your hand and not your leg.
"You'll go to the bench." Leah murmured, watching one of your teammates take off her jacket to enter the field.
"Oh, you'll be happy now, Leah?" Vic teased her with a smirk.
"Shut up, Pelova" she said denying, but smiled anyway "Good, here comes the medical staff. I hope it's nothing serious" she said giving you a squeeze on the shoulder before getting up and returning to her position.
When you sat on the bench you were not unhappy with your performance, you had scored the two goals that led your team to a momentary win, but within minutes of you being substituted Leah's iconic phrase was ringing in your ears.
"The English are never done."
It only took your girlfriend and her team the remaining fifteen minutes and 3 minutes of extra time to turn the game around and take the 3 points.
"I can't believe it" was what you muttered as the final whistle blew, covering your face with your jacket, tears on the verge of flowing.
One of your teammates placed her hand on your thigh to reassure you, you didn't know who it was because you didn't remove your jacket from your face until several minutes later.
"Come on, YN" Viv grabbed your arm, forcing you to stand up.
You walked hugging her all the way to the centre of the pitch, where Beth and the other Arsenal girls were.
"Damn YN, I didn't know you had those goals in you" was the first thing Beth said, giving you a hug "You did well, don't worry" she murmured in your ear, knowing -thanks to Viv- how much you were worried about this match.
"You were a real nightmare," said Alessia, who then gestured to you to exchange shirts. "I hope I never see you doing what you did today again" she said with a laugh, referring to the next league match.
"I can't promise anything" you said shyly, still a little upset about losing. You were about to add something else, but in the distance you heard Leah's voice approaching. "Uh, I'll go inside, I think my arm still hurts, so I'll see if they can give me something for the pain."
Viv noticed the lie, but didn't say anything, just gave your healthy arm a squeeze. As soon as you started walking away from the group Leah did too, but Viv was quicker and managed to grab her arm to integrate her into the conversation and stop her from going after you.
"Great game today," Viv said, forcing her to focus on the conversation.
"Yeah, but you guys did well too. I think it was just a bit of luck that goal in extra time."
"That was a masterpiece!" Alessia defended herself, as she had been the one to convert that goal. "But of course, no goal will be that great for you unless it's from YN" she teased Leah, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"It's the truth, what YN touches turns into a masterpiece" Leah said, puffing out her chest proudly "I love watching her play, but I'd rather do it from the stands and not a few feet behind her."
"Look at you, flattering your rival, never seen that before from you" this time it was Beth who teased her.
"Since she's been with YN she has become a softie" said Viv, pinching Leah's cheek "Oh, why that grumpy face Williamson?"
"You're all idiots" she said smacking Viv's hand "So what if I've become a softie because of YN? I don't care if you laugh at me."
"We know why you have that grumpy face, Williamson" Jill said appearing behind her, jumping almost on Leah's shoulders "It's because your plan to get into YN's head didn't work out!"
"What do you say?"
"I think you achieved quite the opposite with YN, your words instead of distracting her made her try twice as hard, so thank you for that. Shame we didn't manage to keep the lead but that's the way it goes sometimes."
"Damn" Leah folded her arms "You're saying if I hadn't picked on YN she wouldn't have scored those goals?"
"I mean, she would have anyway, but I think you gave her a little push, so thanks."
At the end of the conversation all the girls laughed at Leah, who had planned all morning to get into your head, but in the end her plan didn't work out.
No one mentioned anything else about the game, let alone Leah. And the truth is, you didn't think about her either, well, that was until after you showered at the hotel, you found a bouquet of flowers on your bed and Jill and Leah chatting on the side.
"No funny business, you hear me?" Jill said to Leah before walking out of the room and leaving you two alone.
The atmosphere was awkward, but Leah didn't care.
"Uh, I brought you flowers" she hurriedly said and took the bouquet, walking over to you and handing it to you, smiling as she saw you accept them "You were amazing today... you were a real nightmare for Lucy and me."
"Don't exaggerate, it wasn't that big of a deal" you said smiling as you saw the card with a dedication in the middle of the flowers "I was the player of the match you think?"
"Yes, I can't deny it" Leah took the flowers from your hands to put it back on the bed "I did what I did because I knew it would be physically impossible to hold you back" she said taking your face, caressing your cheek. "It was a lot easier when you were subbed off, but Lucy got a couple of words from me afterwards."
"You're an idiot for that stupidity to be whispering in my ear the whole game, how old are you? 10?" you said resting your head on her chest.
"What did you expect? You scored a brace, I had to stop you somehow." Leah defended herself.
"Whatever you say... So, we're good then?"
"Yeah, I told you. It's just a game and things happen. I thought you wouldn't want to see me for how much I pissed you off today" she said laughing taking the opportunity to caress your back. "How's your hand?"
"Fine, nothing serious but I need to rest it for a couple of days."
"Good" she said and then started walking to your bed without letting you go, sitting down and making you sit on her lap. "Now... about what I said during that corner kick before your goal..." she said putting her hands on your thighs.
"Hmm..." you settled on top of her, not taking your eyes off her lips "I think that's the first time it's ever bothered me to feel you against my back if I'm being honest."
Leah couldn't hold back her laughter, taking the moment to slip her hands under your shirt "I wanted to do this every time I was behind you" she said before she started kissing you.
You guys stayed like that for a couple of minutes, with Leah murmuring how much she loved you every time she stopped kissing you to catch her breath.
"I've been worried about this match all week" you confessed as you stopped the kissing knowing you couldn't do much more than that.
"Yeah, I know. I think I got text messages every day from your team cursing me out. But I didn't want it to be like that, I like you to give your all always, even if it means being against me."
"It was just a difficult situation, your first game as a starter, qualification, Wembley...."
"I didn't want you to worry about me" she said tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "But I want you to know that despite the defeat, I'm proud of what you did today, and I feel like the luckiest person knowing who my girlfriend is and what she's capable of."
"You're such a sweet talker" you laughed but kissed her anyway.
"I know"
Leah patted your thigh to get you off her lap, standing up immediately after that.
"Well I gotta go, see you in a couple of days love."
"Good luck in your next match." You said giving her a last kiss on her lips.
"May the best team qualify, babe."
"Right. Go before you start your little mind games with me" you said pushing her out of the room.
"I love you!"
741 notes · View notes
myscenic · 25 days
Text
My Safe Place [Teaser]
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Pairing: bodyguard!lee jeno x male!reader
Genre: fluff, romance, smut, slight enemies to friends to lovers
Warnings: swearing, top!jeno, smut (more to be revealed later), reader is very childish, cold jeno
Word Count: teaser (1k+) | full fic (?k+)
Started Date: 15.5.24 | Finished Date: ?.?.24
Synopsis: y/n's family is going on a trip for a month but decided to leave y/n at home because he always causes trouble. they told jeno to take care of him. y/n was upset, especially he had to live with his cold ass bodyguard for an entire month.
ʚɞ Note: i'm officially working on my first long fanfic! don't ask me about the jisung one LMAO. i'm really excited for this one :>> i barely see any long fics for male readers so I decided to do one so. and for the ppl who sent in the requests, i'm sorry i haven't worked on any of them yet, but i promise i'll finish them asap!!
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y/n watched frustrated as the car carrying his family drove away down the long driveway. they were all waving goodbye through the windows, excited for their month long vacation at the beach house. all except him.
once again, y/n had been deemed too "troublesome" to join them, left behind instead with jeno, their family’s bodyguard. jeno stood next to y/n, his usual blank expression watching the car ready to leave.
"a whole month?!" y/n exclaimed, annoyance lacing his tone. he shot an irritated glare at jeno. "this is all your fault."
but jeno remained silent and stoic as ever. y/n knew he wouldn't get a response.
it's not like y/n caused that much trouble, he thought to himself. sure, he prank called a pizza place to send the school 20 pizzas on the principal's name. and he had set off a few stink bombs in class. but it was harmless pranks! his parents never understood.
the only one on his side was his brother junhui. as he got in the car, junhui ruffled y/n's hair affectionately and gave him an apologetic smile. "try not to drive jeno too crazy, okay?" he said with a wink.
y/n stuck his tongue out in reply. easy for junhui to say - he wasn't the one stranded for a month with the boring guy.
speaking of which, jeno had already started towards the house. y/n had to jog to catch up to his long strides. "so what, you're my personal jailer?" y/n grumbled.
as stoic as ever, jeno responded, "i'm doing my job to keep you out of trouble."
y/n sighed dramatically. "well your job sucks. this is going to be the longest month ever." but jeno just kept walking, cold and uncaring as always. ugh.
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y/n stopped in front of jeno, blocking his path to the house. "entertain me mr. bodyguard!" he demanded with a smirk. "it's going to be just the two of us for a whole month, so you better find some way to keep me occupied."
jeno gazed down at y/n expressionlessly. "i'm not here for your amusement," he replied in a monotone voice. "i have a job to do - keeping you safe and out of trouble so your family can enjoy their vacation."
he tried to step around y/n, but the boy moved to obstruct him again. "come on, there must be something fun you can do!" y/n prodded, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "or are you really as boring as you look?"
jeno sighed inwardly. dealing with y/n was never easy, but now it was going to be a full time endeavor for the next 30 days. as much as he disliked encouraging the boy's mischievous behavior, he knew he had to find some way to keep y/n entertained and well behaved while his family was gone.
jeno's mind quickly ran through possible options. "if you accompany me to do evening training exercises, i suppose i could teach you some basic self defense techniques," he suggested. it would help fill the time productively, at least.
y/n blocked jeno's path once more. "training exercises?" he scoffed. “no thanks, i’m good. come on jeno, live a little!"
jeno simply rolled his eyes. "then stop interrupting me and let me do my job," he replied in an exasperated tone. he tried to step around y/n again.
but the boy wasn't done yet. "how are you even the same age as my perfect brother junhui when you're so boring?" y/n continued to needle him.
jeno could feel a headache coming on already. "i’m not here to entertain you. now move aside," was all he said evenly.
y/n threw his hands up with an overly dramatic sigh. "ugh, you're impossible. i'll be in my room if you need me, which you won't because you're the most boring person ever."
with that, he spun on his heel and stalked back inside, leaving jeno alone on the doorstep. the bodyguard let out a quiet breath, silently thanking whatever higher power gave him the patience to deal with this difficult charge.
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later that afternoon, y/n was still lying bored in his bedroom after two hours of doing nothing. he was surprised when he got a text from his best friend chenle.
lele: yooo wanna hangout?
y/n: i cantttt jenos not letting me go anywhere!
lele: sneak out then? ;)
y/n felt a thrill of excitement at the suggestion. chenle had always been more of a rebel than him. before he could think better of it, he typed back.
y/n: omggg ur a genius! okay let's meet at 3pm at the park!
but as the time approached, doubts started to creep in. what if jeno found out? he'd be in so much trouble. y/n paced his room anxiously, debating whether to go through with it.
at that moment, there was a firm knock on his door. "it's time for your daily security check," came jeno's even voice.
he took a deep breath and opened the door, forcing a casual smile. "hey jeno. nothing to report, same as usual. boring in here!"
jeno's intense gaze swept the room before settling on y/n. "make sure it stays that way. no sneaking out while i'm not watching, understood?"
y/n gulped. with great effort, y/n kept his tone light. "yeah, yeah, i get it. you're in charge. i’ll be good, promise!"
for a long moment, jeno just looked at him assessingly. then with a stern "i mean it. leave the door open so i can check on you better," he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to wonder - how much trouble was he really in?
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y/n hurriedly changed into some nicer clothes, excitement growing at the thought of sneaking out without jeno catching him. he peered out his window, ready to jump out.
just as y/n swung his leg over the sill, ready to jump, there was a knock on the door. "y/n, do you want something to eat? i can grab you some snacks-"
jeno saw y/n was at the window, he shouted, "hey!", y/n gave him a cheeky smirk. "see ya!" he called out confidently.
in one swift motion, y/n launched himself out the open window before jeno could react. he managed to stick the landing in the grass below, rolling to absorb the impact. already he could hear jeno shouting after him from the bedroom window.
"this kid..."
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187 notes · View notes
portgasdwrld · 8 months
Note
Hello, Tomie! Are requests still open? I got the cutest fluff idea and I think you're the best writer for the job because you really write the characters so well.
Cold/stoic OP boys reacting to an S/O who MUST always stop to pet, feed, and photograph every cat on the street? Maybe Smoker, Zoro, and Law.
🍃Hey sweetheart!! Thank you for sending this ask! I love the idea so much and thanks for the support!! I hope you like it 🪽
🥝 Op men + cat lover reader
Featuring: Zoro, Law, Smoker
Warning: None, fluff, established relationship for Zoro & Law. GN! Reader
Zoro
Zoro stares at you as you stopped for the third time today to pet a black kitten this time. He doesn’t see the appeal & doesn’t understand why you love cats so much. He looks around making sure you two are still out of any enemy attack, before he approaches you. He gasps a little when he sees you open your bag to feed the animal with some treats specially made for them.
-Do you just walk around hoping to fall on a cat?
He asks in his usual stern voice. You look over your shoulder and laugh when the realization hits. You couldn’t help but soften, faced to those adorable animals. You would take them all on the ship with you if you could.
-I do be giving this impression, huh?
-Yeah,… you really seem to like them.
-They are so cute don’t you think??
You exclaim while picking up the cat in your hands and showing it to him. He furrows his eyebrows, before looking away uninterested.
-Nah, don’t get it.
-You’re always so grumpy, a bit like a cat.
-Are you comparing me to that thing??
-A thing?? It’s so cuteee!! Look! It even has a scar on its eye just like you! What are the odds!
Zoro’s cheeks slightly flush embarrassed by your comparison, while the cat and him stare at each other. He scoffs as your words ring in his head. He doesn’t see the ressemblance and doesn’t want to. A pirate like him looking like a kitten? You must be out of your mind.
-Let’s go, the others are waiting.
He says quicken up his pace as he walks away from you, still flustered. He hears your laugh echo again and soon after, your arms wrap around his as you look at him with big eyes.
-Do you think the cat is a fighter too?
He gives you a bit of a side eye wondering where you find those type of questions. He shrugs his shoulders as a smirk cover his face.
-He must be the strongest, if so.
Maybe he will consider making space for a cat in your shared cabin, maybe…
Law
Law sighs as he sees you once again bend down to pet a cat. He’s always a bit in a hurry as he’s a busy man, in his words. So he does find it inconvenient that you have this habit. The crew is walking not too far behind and he hopes to not waste any more time in this village after buying everything they needed.
-Are you done?
He asks softly, but it still comes off with an annoyed undertone and his stoic facial expression doesn’t help. You straighten your back as you give him a bit of his attitude back.
-Nah
You retort while putting your tongue out and hugging the cat in your arms.
-The cat has an ear missing..They need a doctor!
Laws mouth stays open for a little a bit speechless. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks at you.
-It’s a stray cat, they are made strong.
-Pfff, not very doctor of you, Trafalgar.
You reply while scrunching a little your nose unsatisfied with his answer. Law rubs the bridge of his nose, before getting a better look of the cat.
-Im a doctor for humans …. The ears seems like an old scar that have already been healed, so don’t worry.
He adds as he notices your uneasy expression. You smile and ruffle with the tip of your finger the fur on top of the cat’s head, happy with the news. You thank him, before letting the cat go.
-Stay safe~
You say to the cat with caring eye as you watch it walk away. Law watches with a fond smile. You take his hand and with the crew, you make your way back home.
Smoker
He exhales a cloud of smoke as he cocks an eyebrow to you petting a cat that crossed by you two.
-Isn’t it so cute!!
You exclaim with an excited expression as you focus on the small creature in front of you. You reach for your bag where you find your camera and click couple of pictures.
-What are you doing? We are wasting time.
-Im taking pictures for souvenirs!
-Of cats ?
He retorts, lowkey judging you. He thinks the behaviour is a little childish, especially when you two needs to be attentive at all time for any pirates that can cause trouble. But here you are, taking pictures of cats and petting them.
-Yeah, why not? Want me to take some of you?
You say with a teasing smirk and you stare at him this time. The man blushes a little flustered and shakes his head.
- This isn’t very professional.
-Ohh, relaaax. If some idiots want to cause trouble we don’t need to worry if you are here right ?
-U-uh yeah…
-All cool then~
You conclude with a cocky smile, satisfied as you pet another cat under the man’s confused eyes.
416 notes · View notes
hisui-dreamer · 1 year
Note
*kicks in door*
imma have ta ask ya for those tickling hcs for the vices if i may be so bold
the ones where their lover is the receiver
won't you focus on me?
Characters: Vice-dorm Leaders (Trey, Ruggie, Jade, Jamil, Ortho, Rook, Lilia)
Synopsis: With you entirely focused on your phone, he finds himself feelng neglected. What better way than tickling to regain your attention and affection?
Tags: tickling, fluff, slight hurt much comfort, reader is ticklish and has hair, reader is kinda obsessed with their phone, bot proofread
Word count: 1.9k+
Notes: i love the energy of this ask hahaha! i included Ortho for fun, but as always, his is purely platonic!
Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 2 ✧ Masterlist
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Trey comes over to Ramshackle to visit you with food!
he's been a bit busy lately with unbirthday parties and so he really wanted to spend some time with you
but here you are, all caught up in your phone???
not even the scent of pastries is enticing you?
he's a bit offended by that, but mostly patient with you
"Well, I can wait until you're done with your phone," he sighs
when you still won't pay attention though, he knows just what to do to get your attention
he's used to playing around with his siblings
he starts with light tickles and gradually increases intensity depending on your reaction
gosh he's revelling in your attention now that your phone is out of reach
he won't be too mean, but he'll tease you for quite a bit
when he stops tickling you, he'll hold you in place for a bit to savour your company
"What's going on, sweetcakes?" Trey reaches out to ruffle your hair. "You've been glued to your phone all day. I brought you your favourite pastries?"
"Come on, I'm just messing around with you. It's your fault for ignoring me!" He chuckles as his wriggles his fingers across your sensitive spots, a playful glint in his eyes.
He stares at your disheveled form, satisfied. "Alright, alright, I'll give you a break. But seriously, put down the phone and let's eat!" He pulls you closer and you can feel him smiling as he kisses your forehead.
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Ruggie finally has a bit of free time!
he's been working extra hard to finish his jobs and tasks early to spend some time with you!
and you're just ??? on your phone???
he's pouting, honestly how could you?
"Well well well, looks like someone's too busy with their phone to pay attention to their favorite person in the world," he grumbles
he's impatient and if you're not showering him in affection immediately, he's pouncing on you
he'll start ticking you and laughing as you squirm at his touch
but oh? you swatted his ears a bit and he's shivering?
it turns into a tickle battle where you're both clawing for each other
when you're both out of breath, he'll snuggle close to you
the two of you spend some time together, doing whatever you want
and whoops! he's lost track of time and he needs to go running to get leona's laundry now
you better make it up to him next time!
Ruggie mumbles under his breath, dissatisfied. "What's so important on there, huh? Cute cat videos? I'm better than those cats..."
He snatches your phone out of your hands. "You thought you could ignore me, huh? Pay attention to me now!" He exclaims as he starts tickling your sides.
"See, I knew I could make you forget about your phone! Shishishi, you're all mine now. What do you say we do something fun together?" Triumphantly, he lays his head in your lap to gain your full attention. "We could chill, watch a movie, whatever you want, as long as you promise to give me your undivided attention," he says, as he leans into your touch.
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Jade was finally able to get a break from his duties
and so he wanted to spend some time with you building terrariums together
emphasis on together
he's also a bit a distracted by the flora but when he turns to you, he realises you're just on your phone???
"Darling, which do you think would be better? Hypoestes hyllostachya or Soleirolia soleirolii? Hmm, darling?" He turns around at your silence.
*Insert his creepy smile*  ̄⁠v ̄⁠
sighs and sneaks behind you before attacking your neck with tickles
oh no, you dropped your phone? he'll deal with it later, right now he's focused on punishing you
even better if it's broken so it can't distract you
and oh boy, he's not gonna stop anytime soon, he's not so secretly relishing in your squirming and giggles
when he thinks you've suffered enough, you'll have to deal with his crocodile tears as he laments you don't love him anymore
this sneaky eel wants you all to himself, ok?
Jade smiles at you, but you can't detect any warmth from it. "Pardon me, my pearl, but I do believe you've been neglecting me," he hums thoughtfully. "Perhaps a bit of tickling will remind you of your priorities of the present moment."
He sniffles as he wipes away a fake tear. "My pearl, you wound my heart so. Am I no longer entertaining enough to hold your attention?" He cups your cheek and directs your gaze towards his. "I hope you know I always crave your attention," he says as his hold on you tightens.
"I must say, it's quite satisfying to see you laughing like that. You have such a lovely smile. Now, how about we forget about that device for a while and just enjoy each other's company?" He smiles affectionately as he leans in for a kiss.
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kalim just announced another impromptu banquet, so Jamil won't have a lot of free time for a while
he finds you completely engrossed in your phone, oblivious to his presence
normally he wouldn't mind, he just likes being near you and hearing your heartbeat
but he really wanted your love and affection to keep him motivated
"Ya amar, do you mind paying attention to me?"
you hummed in response without looking away from your phone
well, time to take matters into his own hands
he shuffled closer to you, leaning in to hug you like he would as always, then he snuck his hands to your sides and neck to tickle you
you try to wriggle away but he's got you pinned down, and he's very precise in where he's tickling
when he finally relents and lets you catch their breath, your faces were flushed and his eyes sparkling with amusement at the sight
now you're just snuggled together, his head on your chest as you brush his hair and he sighs contentedly
make sure to check in on him when he's busy! he'll need to recharge with you
"Sigh, looks like I'll have to resort to drastic measures," he mutters as he reaches over to hold you.
"Got your attention now, huh?" Jamil teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You are still panting from his attack, bit you couldn't find it in you to get mad at him at all.
Jamil grinned, feeling satisfied that he gotten your attention. "So, what were you looking at on your phone that was so interesting? Tell me about it more, I want to hear you talk."
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you had asked Rook to demonstrate archery and how could he say no?
but wait! there's a new trending video on magicam!!
he notices immediately you're distracted by your phone
your hunter is less than pleased, he wanted your eyes to be on him!
he tries calling you all sorts of nicknames to get your attention, but you're just ignoring him???
"Mon chou, ma puce, mon cœur, mon trésor, ton attention s'il vous plaît!"
but nope, this video is just thaat interesting
he's nothing if not determined though, and he sneaks closer to you and starts tickling you
his eyes are narrowed in amusement, quickly catching your phone before it hit the ground and placing it on the bench, then continuing his attack
once you beg for him to stop he will, and he just cradles you in his arms tenderly
you're such a creature of beauty, he can't help but want to monopolise your attention
Rook stands in front of you and sighs dramatically. "Trickster, it seems you have been ensnared by the siren song of your phone. But fear not, for I have come to free you from its grasp!"
"You thought you could ignore me, mon amour? Think again! Your laughter is music to my ears, and I shall not stop until you are helpless with giggles!" He says as he continues to attack your ticklish spots.
"Come now, let us bask in the glory of each other's company, and leave this electronic abyss behind! Mon chou, won't you keep your eyes on me," he murmurs, pulling your hand to cup his cheek as he leans into it.
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Ortho's super excited to come over and play the newest video games with you!
he did try to get idia to come, but he's still running away from irl contact
he really likes hanging out with friends like a normal kid
but oh? you're distracted by this video online?
he already saw it a day ago, and idia complained about normie humour when he saw it
"Come on! You promised to play the game with me!" he pouts
see, he coould disable the video from the internet
but there are better and more fun ways of getting your attention!
per anime logic, why not try tickling you?
sneaks up behind you, and gently tickles you under your arms
this is so fun??? he can't stop tickling you, and you're just trying to squirm away
you can try to tickle him back, he's not ticklish with how idia built him
instead, just try the new game out! he wants to see how normal gamers play!
Ortho tilts his head in exasperation, before settling on the perfect strategy."Initiating playful retaliation protocol. Tickling commencing in 3...2...1. Warning, increased laughter and squirming may occur."
"Tickling pressure increased by 20%. Friend's laughter response is at maximum levels. Suggested response: continue tickling," he continues attacking ticklish spots that you didn't even know existed until you're left gasping for air.
"Haha, gotcha! You can't ignore me forever. Now come on, the game's already set up, let's have some fun!" He exclaims in excitement.
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Lilia offered to help you study history when he learned you had a habit of dozing off on Trein's history lessons
he's very excited to tell you the more accurate version of history but oh?
you're entirely focused on your phone and not a word of his lecture is entering your mind
"Sigh, looks like I'm not as interesting as that little screen of yours. Young people nowadays..." he shakes his head
he sees this as the perfect opportunity to tease you!
you're lucky you two decided to study in the common room and not the library
smiles wickedly as he's tickling you, and he knows where all your ticklish spots are
try as you might to push him away, but he's surprisingly strong despite his petit stature
he'll tickle you until he's satisfied with how dishevelled you are
that should teach you a lesson to pay attention to him
now come on, your history books won't study themselves and you have a very charming tutor here to help you, the least you could do is focus on him ;)
"My dear, it seems your attention is quite fixated on your phone. Do you not wish to give your attention to me, your beloved partner who has offered his services in teaching, for a moment?" Lilia asks, batting his eyelashes playfully.
"Hmm, perhaps a gentle tickling will be enough to regain your attention," he hums thoughtfully.
"Ah, it seems I've finally caught your attention. I hope a little tickle didn't inconvenience you too much," he laughs as he brushes your hair out of your face. "But I must say, you're quite ticklish! I'll have to remember that for next time," he smiles mischievously.
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 2 ✧Masterlist
938 notes · View notes
sixxrock666 · 6 months
Note
Could you do platonic? With a girl who’s in the band and how that would work? Like she’s probably rlly popular cause she’s the only girl and all and she’s like rhythm guitarist
Just like how they would act w her and stuff
awhh love this idea<33 I think you requested that for mötley but if i was wrong you can totally request again and i would do it again. I hope you will like it I tried my best :))
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• at first Vince and Nikki would definitely try to sleep with you but you would turn them down every time so they would eventually give up
• Tommy would literally be your best friend. He would be super clingy and would cuddle up to you, would love it when you would stroke his hair
• i feel like Mick would be really cold towards your at the start but when you’d break through, surprisingly you two would get along the best
• Mick would be someone you’d have a lot of inside jokes with and could talk about anything together
• they would usually let you do and talk to any guy but as soon as they sensed the guy was a creep they would step in, especially Nikki and would send him away
• all of the guys would be super protective of you but especially Nikki and Vince even tho they knew you could take care of yourself
• Vince would definitely still flirt sometimes but not seriously just some flirtatious jokes here and there, it would be how you two would mostly communicate
• you, Tommy and Nikki would for sure become THE trio. You would do so much random shit, get drunk together and smash places down. Call it the terror triplets if you will
• on the stage you would get crazy with the boys. You would jam with Mick a lot and do your thing, leaning against each other while you both play your guitars
• you would also get crazy with Nikki on stage a lot, banging your head together to the music and running around the stage and Vince would sometimes join
• if you’d feel down they would all try their absolute best to make you feel better. Tommy would try making you pancakes but would probably burn everything down. That would result in boys yelling at him but it would fill your heart with warmth
• you would adore studio time. You’d all joke around but still get work done and usually after you’d all go out to eat and get drunk.
• whenever you’re all drunk you would usually have to take care of Nikki and Tommy and they would get all clingy. To say the least it wasn’t an easy job dragging two grown men along but you were the only one willing to do it. Sometimes Mick would tag along and help you but that was rarely. Vince was probably hanging out with some chick somewhere in the mean time
•if you were the drunkest one Vince and Mick would take care of you. Tommy and Nikki would try to get more alcohol into you because they would be so intoxicated themselves. It was crazy trying to drag you away from them at that point.
• they’d definitely get into fights at the bar if a guy would harass you
• sometimes at the end of the day you’d all chill in one of your rooms, probably get high and laugh all night long until you’d eventually get all sappy, telling each other how much you love each other
• let’s be real you’d definitely walk in on the boys at some point
• the tour bus would ALWAYS be a mess and you’d literally be the only one trying to keep it together. Tommy would sometimes feel bad and help you but that happened once a year at best
• i feel like Vince would love to ruffle your hair especially when he would see you get frustrated over it every time
• Tommy loved to drag you along everywhere he went, be it the record store or some random bar he thought looked cool
part 2
☆彡𐬿𐮙✧⁂ミ✯
242 notes · View notes
cloudrumble23 · 8 months
Text
Evan woke up gasping, his shirt plastered to his back and his hair stuck to his face. He rubbed the tears from his eyes quickly to focus on the clock. 5:48 a.m. An ominous feeling spread through his entire body, but he took comfort in reminding himself that nothing bad could happen while Fredbear was watching over him.
The fabric of his plushie was worn and stuffing was sticking out between some of his joints, but Evan couldn’t bear to part with him long enough for proper repairs to be done. Father always said it would take a few days to fix the plushie if he wanted it done properly, and Evan would never accept a poor repair job, so instead of giving up the bear for repairs, he just kept Fredbear as he slowly deteriorated more and more each day.
He didn’t feel too bad about it though; Michael had done the exact same thing to his Foxy plushie, and he’d had his toy much less time than Evan had. Evan swapped out the destroyed plushie with his own, but Michael hadn’t seemed to notice, even as the original plushie’s head fell off somewhere, making it impossible to repair the poor fox.
The vest was coming a bit loose, but Evan ignored that. Fredbear didn’t need the vest anyway. It wasn’t his identity any more than Foxy’s hat was, and besides, no one remembered that Foxy even normally came with a hat. He squeezed the small bear, humming softly to himself as he waited for 6 a.m. to arrive.
Evan walked cautiously down the hallway to the kitchen, his guard still up from his unpleasant night’s rest.
“You stink,” Elizabeth complained. She was already in the kitchen eating her cereal while Michael was pouring his own bowl.
Michael rolled his eyes. “Welcome to reality Lizzie. People sweat and have body odor.”
“You never stink in the morning,” she retorted as Evan set Fredbear on the counter before climbing on it to reach the cabinet.
“I put on deodorant. Ev, get off the counter. I can get that for you.” Michael grabbed another bowl from the cabinet and filled it with cereal as well. “I’ll get Evan some when I go to the store, okay?”
“You better,” Elizabeth grumbled into her cereal.
“Plus, it’ll be fine. He’s probably going to shower before we leave for school anyway.”
Elizabeth scowled at that. “But then I won’t have time to do my hair.”
“Then I’ll do it.” Michael rolled his eyes again. “You talk like you have a terrible life, Liz.”
“Maybe I do!” Elizabeth snapped, shoveling more cereal into her mouth.
“Good morning to you too,” Mother said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen. “Are we having cereal for breakfast today?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Michael said, grabbing Evan around the waist to drag him from his spot on the counter. “I was planning to go to the grocery store today to pick up a few things.”
“No nonsensical things we don’t need now, Michael. You know how your father hates that sort of thing.”
“Of course,” Michael’s voice sounded stiff, but he maintained his politeness. “Do you want some cereal as well?”
“That’d be lovely, darling.” She sat down beside Elizabeth. “You children are so wonderful.”
Evan felt himself finally starting to calm down. Today was a good day. Mother and Michael were both in a good mood, a rare occurrence, if he was being honest with himself. Elizabeth’s mood was always sour, depending on who she decided to blame for her problems, but she was manageable. He just hoped they didn’t see his Father before school. That was the one thing that could ruin the peaceful moods of his mother and brother before they left for school.
“Do you want to go to the store with me, Evan?” Michael said abruptly after they’d all finished eating. “So you know where to look for deodorant next time?”
“I guess so,” Evan replied quietly, hoping that was the right answer.
It must’ve been, because Michael smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. His expression faltered, and he made a face though. Michael wiped his hand on his pants. “You really need to shower before we leave though, Little Man. Lizzie was right, no offense. You are kind of gross this morning.”
Evan shrugged. He didn’t want to explain the nightmares, assuming it would put Michael in a sour mood. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“Fredbear’s not looking too good lately either,” Michael mused. “Want me to stitch him up for you?”
“Huh?” Evan blinked up at his brother. “Fredbear’s fine.”
“His stuffing’s going everywhere-“
“He doesn’t need anything. He’s fine!” Evan scooped the little bear into his arms, and Michael raised his hands in surrender.
“Fine, fine. If you change your mind, let me know. It would only take, like, 30 minutes, tops.”
Evan didn’t reply to that. Instead, he changed the subject. “I’m going to go shower.”
“Okay.” Michael almost sounded disappointed. But that didn’t make sense. Normally he was happy to be rid of him. Especially so near his birthday, when his friends would be coming over all the time.
On the walk to school, Elizabeth wouldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful her hair was. She practically begged Michael to make it a more regular occurrence, but Michael just shrugged. Evan could see the smile on his face though. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth got her way.
“Mike!” one of Michael’s friends tried to call him over, but Michael ignored him.
“Come on, you two gotta get to class,” he said softly, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder to direct him away from the other kid. With a startle of surprise, Evan saw a faint frown on Michael’s face. Maybe he’d had some kind of fight with his friends? Evan couldn’t ask about it, just in case.
“You can’t ignore us forever!” one of the boys shouted angrily while Michael guided Evan in the direction of the store after school.
“Just keep walking,” Michael muttered. He seemed very tense, and Evan wasn’t sure he could do anything to reassure his brother. He just did as Michael asked, hurrying along so they could get out of range.
A few short minutes later, they were walking into the store. Evan felt odd. He’d never been to the store without his parents before. Normally, he and Elizabeth only came when Mother was looking for something specific, or when Michael was sick, and Father was going to the store instead. Being here with Michael was… different.
“They don’t get it,” Michael whispered, seeming to forget who he was talking to.
Evan blinked at him, but Michael didn’t elaborate until after they’d filled the basket with necessary groceries and Evan’s deodorant.
“Everyone expects so much from me,” he mused. “My friends seem to think I have to give them every second of my attention. Mother thinks I have to be responsible all the time. Father…” Michael shook his head. “Even Uncle Henry assumes things. It’s awful, Ev.”
“Maybe it’s just because they like you so much,” Evan said quietly, hoping not to upset him.
“Nah. They expect me to disappoint them. Aside from my friends, anyway. It’s just so stupid. All this shit I have to put up with.” Michael froze. “I mean- Just forget I said that.”
Evan giggled involuntarily, surprising them both. “You’re not seriously apologizing for saying ‘shit,’ are you?” Evan asked. “Kids say that all the time at school.”
“Yeah, but if Mother or Father catches you saying that-“
“Who’s going to tell them?” Evan blinked innocently up at Michael.
He groaned. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”
“Only when I can be.” Evan grinned, feeling secure in his behavior. “Let’s get home. I have homework to do.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Michael shook his head, but the faint smile Evan had seen that morning returned.
“Want to watch T.V. with me?” Michael said when he walked into the kitchen.
Evan guessed he was finished with his own homework, considering his confidence in the way he sat beside Evan at the counter.
“What are we watching?” Evan replied, continuing his notes while Fredbear observed them both.
“The Immortal and the Restless,” Michael said with confidence. “And, it’s not even scary, so you won’t wet yourself when we watch.”
Evan shook his head disparagingly. “I got scared watching a movie with you one time-“
“It gave you nightmares, Ev! I got in so much trouble for that, you know.”
“Then why offer to watch something with me again?” Evan asked before realizing what he was implying.
“I-“ Michael sputtered. “C’mon, man.”
Evan put his pencil down and stared at his brother. He wasn’t getting angry, which meant Evan could actually ask serious questions without fearing consequences for it. “You spend all your time making fun of me, and teasing me, and scaring me, and making me miserable. Why should I trust that you actually want to watch something with me?”
Evan expected a lot of potential reactions to his comments. Yelling, maybe. What he didn’t expect was for Michael to crumple in on himself. “I… Look, it’s not…” Michael swallowed harshly. “I can’t say anything to justify my past actions. You have every reason to be weary. But maybe I’ve changed, Ev. I want to spend time with you. I’m tired of pretending all the time, and I-“
“You’re not kidding,” Evan said softly. “Were you exaggerating this morning, then? When you said it would only take 30 minutes to fix Fredbear?”
“What? No. It’s a bunch of little fixes. You just gotta have the right thread. And if we hurry,” Michael glanced at the clock nervously, “I know Father has thread in his office.”
“You…” Evan blinked. “You’d do that for me?”
“I gotta prove my point somehow, don’t I?” Michael jumped up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”
Evan turned back to his homework, no longer able to fully comprehend what was happening here. Was Michael genuine? Was he really trying to be a better brother? Evan honestly had no idea, but the best way to find out was to wait until the summer, when Michael was always really nasty usually. For now, though, he’d settle for help repairing Fredbear.
Michael returned, out of breath and a little bit shaky. “We only have a few hours before Father is supposed to be home.”
“Lucky you said it wouldn’t take very long,” Evan said softly, expecting a contradiction.
“Still frightening to think about,” Michael replied. “Okay, I got this.” He threaded the needle and looked at Evan expectantly. Reluctantly, Evan handed his brother the battered gold bear.
Michael set him up gently on the kitchen counter, tucking the stuffing back where it belonged as he started his row of stitching. Evan knew the seams had been originally on the inside of Fredbear, but Michael had tried explaining that he couldn’t fix Fredbear like that. He’d rolled his eyes actually, saying that doing it that way would take a sewing machine and a trip to the workshop, something Michael was not willing to do without permission.
So Evan had to accept that the repairs would be visible, but at least Fredbear would be ready to fight off another night of terrors.
Evan didn’t mean to fall asleep against Michael’s shoulder while watching the show. In his defense, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Michael was too busy watching to explain it to him. Evan ended up giving up on the show to study his brother’s face. It surprised him how energetic Michael seemed while watching the screen, but then, Evan guessed this was one of his rare moments where there weren’t expectations dragging him down.
He stirred as Michael carried him upstairs. Confused, Evan blinked sleepily at his brother. “What-“
“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Michael said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to have nightmares.”
Evan always had nightmares. That was the general idea of everything going on. He hated the idea of disappointing Michael, especially after how nice the day had been, but he couldn’t control his dreams. Not now and certainly not ever. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have nightmares every night. But he had a feeling Michael wouldn’t be swayed in this, so he just nodded against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes again.
Evan didn’t have any nightmares that night. Or at least, they weren’t nightmares he remembered. He woke up that morning with Michael curled protectively around him, like Michael was afraid of something happening. Evan wasn’t particularly worried about that, though.
For the first time in years, he felt content and safe.
300 notes · View notes
bettyfrommars · 10 months
Note
Monster Eddie Jobs: haunted clown doll. Poltergeist. One of those paintings where the eyes follow you around. INCUBUS
haunted clown doll it is
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hauntedClownDoll!Eddie x Reader
another blurb from The Nightmare Factory
Nightmare Factory Masterlist
Another step in Eddie's journey to find the Nightmare Factory job that will entice you to want to get to know him. A lot of you darlings came through with a handful of fun, creative requests, and I'm excited to keep them going through spooky season! I will also be using others that were mentioned in this particular ask, and always happy to receive more! I stayed at the Clown Motel once and lived to tell. There really is a cemetery right next to it, no lie. wc: 1.5k
18+ONLY, mature themes, nightmares, clowns, longing
The Clown Motel in Tonopah, Nevada gave you the creeps, but all you needed was a quick bed for the night, and $65 was about all you could afford.  There was an old cemetery next to the property, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed it was all a staged setup to add to the spooky appeal of the motel.  But, no—the headstones were all very real, dating back to the late 1800’s.
You saw him when you first came in—he was impossible to miss.  The life-sized clown doll dressed in colorful stripes with a wide mouth and round, rubber nose.  He sat in the middle of a square nook filled with clown dolls of all shapes and sizes.  Some were ceramic, some were cloth.  Some were wood, carved to look like a nutcracker.  The big clown had one hand in his lap and one hanging down his side, and his eager eyes sought you in a way that made you avert your attention until you were done checking in.  
Your room was on the second tier and you took some time to get cleaned up before calling over to the restaurant across the way to order some food.  On you way back across the street, clutching the styrofoam container in your hand, you caught a glimpse of something bright in the cemetery.
It was dusk, and you wondered if maybe it was someone visiting one of the burial sites.
But, with a muffled scream you noticed—for a split second—that it was the same clown doll from the lobby standing like a statue by one of the headstones.
It was watching you, leering at you, and it lifted its arm in a stiff wave as the wind blew back the silk of his costume.
You blinked and choked, and when you focused on the spot in the distance again—the clown was no longer there.  
Eddie materialized in the cemetery to get a better look at where you were, and then he tripped over his floppy shoes and almost impaled himself on a handmade, wooden cross.  
He cursed under his breath, wondering why he chose Haunted Clown Doll over some type of apparition so that he could be near you without making you uncomfortable.  First of all, he thought having a physical body would solve the communication problem, but of course—the clown’s face couldn’t move, and his voice came out as not much more than a mocking cackle.
Second, it was only a three day training, and most of it was just watching safety videos about how to walk in the shoes.  They also taught him to sit for a while, and then stand in the corner, and then hover near the bed when the person having the nightmare least expected it.  
They repeated a lot of the same shit at the training, and when he crossed his arms over his chest to sink back in his chair, he started to fall asleep.
He snorted awake with a start when the teacher—-a professional Nightmare Clown with a gaping maw of sharp teeth and a bright green wig—-barked his name.
“Sorry,” Eddie said groggily.  “I’m listening.”
“Is that right?” The teacher clown also had cat’s eyes for pupils and a polka dot jumper with ruffles at the wrists and blood stains across the front.  “Indulge the rest of the class and tell me what the last rule was I just went over.”
The “class” consisted of 3 unfortunate souls, including Eddie.  
Eddie could not contain the yawn that stretched his mouth, so he spoke while it was happening.  “Going under the covers,” he answered.  “When the person puts their head under the covers, they are safe, and we can’t touch them or scare them.”
“Exactly, now, how do we keep them from going under the covers?”
Eddie must’ve blanked out on that one.  “Um, we can’t?”
The teacher heaved a weary sigh, cocking their head.  “Distractions, Munson. Doors that fly open, a face in the window, whispers in their ear.”
This was all beginning to sound way above his pay grade, and he wasn’t interested in being the best student or the best employee—he just wanted to see you again.
He should’ve dematerialized before you caught a glimpse of him from across the street, but some insane part of him hoped you might recognize him—even though you’d never seen his actual form, and he was dressed like a literal clown this time.  
A car honked, jolting you from your reverie, and as you jogged the rest of the way into the parking lot, your eyes darted around, hoping to god that you would not see the clown again.
On your way to the stairs, you passed by the glass front to the lobby, and found yourself looking in to make eye contact with the clown doll again.  Its eyeballs were painted on, but somehow—you felt like they were watching you, as if someone were looking through from the other side.  Both of its hands were in its lap, now, and its shoulders were hunched; big, oversized red shoes planted on the floor; short, frizzy orange hair sticking out of a floppy sleeping cap.  
You went up and watched some lame sitcoms while you ate your dinner, and you tried to forget about the inanimate clown doll that was gnawing at your brain.
Eddie noticed how you took the time to check in on him on the way to your room, and his heart leapt.  And then, he thought he was the one dreaming when he watched you descend the stairs and return to the lobby a few hours later.
The night manager popped his head out to ask if you needed any help, but you confessed you were only there to look at the clowns.
One in particular.
You made your way over to stand at his side and covertly whispered in his ear.  “Was that you out in the cemetery today?”
Eddie’s clown hand fell from his lap to sway at his side, making you jump back, eyes widening at the coincidence.
When you found the nerve, you leaned closer, inspecting the wide, painted smile on his porcelain face, the brown of his irises.
You were so close, Eddie could smell you.  You radiated fresh lavender and coconut hand lotion and a tang of garlic from the dinner you just ate.  He watched your lips move as you whispered to yourself, something about, “where have I seen this clown before?”
Eddie couldn’t speak though, he could only chuckle, and he didn’t think it was the right time.
The body of the doll was so lifelike; you had to feel it for yourself.  With a shaky hand, you reached out to touch his shoulder—it wasn’t soft like stuffing, it was hard, like a store mannequin.  You bent down to squeeze the thigh, finding that it was made of the same solid material.
Eddie could feel everything, the way you were caressing him. On his plane of existence, he parted his lips and let his eyes roam over your face.  Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to kiss you.
You bought some souvenirs—-a shot glass and a mug for your mom—and then returned to your room for the night.
It took you a while to get to sleep, but when you finally dozed off to the point that your body jerked from an imaginary fall, clown Eddie was sitting in the chair in the corner.  The maniacal smile stretched across his face was locked in place—his eyes unblinking as they stared across the room at you.  
You rolled over with a groan, pulling the covers closer to your chin as you went.  
Eddie materialized at the side of the bed, at your back, tilting his head, wishing he could crawl in and put his arms around you.  He’d take his big, stupid shoes off first.
The next morning, you woke up refreshed, and busied yourself around the motel room getting ready for the last leg of your road trip, oblivious to the way Eddie had been standing at the foot of your bed all night.  
After your suitcase was in the car, you went to drop the key off at the front desk, and noticed the life-sized clown was no longer therr.  You went over to inspect the area: its chair between the shelves of smaller clowns was gone too.  There was not a trace of it, as if it had vanished.
“Hey, so, where did you put the huge clown that was down here?” You asked politely as you passed the man your key.
He squinted at you, a bit confused.  “Huge clown, you mean the nutcracker ones?”
“No, the really big one,” you turned to point to the area where it had been.  “It was taller than me with enormous red shoes, a really creepy smile.  It was sitting right over there when I checked in yesterday.”
The man bent forward over the desk to see where you were pointing, even though he had no idea what  you were babbling about.  
“We’ve never had a clown that size,” he assured you. “But I wish we did. It sounds like something from a nightmare.”
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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months
Text
In The Way I Need You | Part 4
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Series Masterlist
➪in which clay becomes more and more aware of his feelings for you, and you grow more and more attached to both him and joey.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Clay Beresford: Stuck at work for a bit longer today. Are you able to get Joey ready for bed again? 
You glanced up at the kid who was sitting on the living room floor, his head propped up on a pillow as he skimmed through a picture book. You had babysat a lot of kids throughout high school, but Joey was by far the cutest and sweetest child you had ever met. You had grown so attached to him in so little time, and you were beginning to fear that maybe being around him and his dad so much would end badly, but you didn’t want your time with them to ever end. 
Clay was so kind and not at all like the stereotypical rich guy who just cares about his job and money. He adored his kid and had a close relationship with his mother and so obviously cared deeply about those around him. You met him because he had helped you out with directions, surely making himself late for work because of that, but never rushed during the entire time you and him talked. 
He was about to single-handedly ruin your standards for men.
Of course I can. He just finished dinner, so I’ll let him relax for a bit before putting him in the bath. 
Clay Beresford: Thank you. I’ll pay you extra again for the trouble. Just tell him I’ll be there before he falls asleep so I can say goodnight to him. 
No need to pay extra. Got more than enough last night, Mr Businessman. I’ll let him know. See you later. 
You set your phone down and got off the couch. Sitting on the carpet next to Joey, you ruffle his hair a bit and smile at the laugh that escapes him. “Would you like me to read to you before your bath?” You offer and he nods, sitting up and moving onto your lap. 
You wrap your arms around him and begin reading The Kissing Hand. Once you are done, Joey leans back against you and plays with the charms on your bracelet. “That book is like my dad and I,” he says and your heart swells and breaks at the same time. 
The Kissing Hand was a book about a mother raccoon and son raccoon, and you were once again reminded that the sweet kid on your lap was robbed of his own mother at such a young age. 
Not because she tragically died or anything. No, she willingly left both him and Clay as if she thought she could live a better life somewhere else without them in it. 
Your eyes stung a bit as you leaned down and kissed the top of his head before you began to really think about it. “You love your dad, huh?”
He nods and looks at the picture on the front of the book. “He’s my best friend,”
You blink away the few tears that formed as you stand up with him in your arms. “You’re sweet, you know that?” You murmur as you carry him upstairs and into the bathroom. “Do you want a lot of bubbles or only a little?” You ask as you turn the water on and look at him from over your shoulder. 
He gives you a crooked smile from his spot on the footstool. “Grandma puts a lot in. Daddy doesn’t,”
You smile back as you stand up. “Looks like you’re getting a lot tonight,”
After letting him sit in the bath for a while and then helping him change into his pajamas, you sit next to him on his bed as he tries to decide what book he wanted you to read to him. “Read this one?” He held up Lullaby Moon and you were powerless to stop yourself from agreeing. 
You were both tired by the time you finished reading it, and you had to fight off a few yawns as you set the book aside. “Did you have a good day?” You asked as you smoothed out his hair. 
Joey nodded and snuggled closer to your side. “I like it when you’re here,” he mumbled and your heart swooned a bit. 
“Yeah?” You hum with a grin. “I like it, too.”
He closes his eyes and holds onto his teddy bear. “When will daddy be home?”
“Soon, buddy,” you answer, looking over at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was nearing eight thirty. Clay must’ve gotten held up even more since he said he would be home by now, but you honestly didn’t mind sitting with Joey when he was all sleepy like this.
He was ridiculously cute and was practically Clay’s twin, and you were quickly realizing that you would rather be here with them than anywhere else. You were becoming too attached to them far too soon, and you knew you needed to get a hold of yourself. 
“He always tucks me in,” Joey whined quietly and you think your heart physically cracked a bit at that. 
“He’ll be home soon, Joey,” you promised, standing up and tugging on his covers. “It won’t be as good as the way your dad tucks you in, but can I try? See if it helps you get more comfortable?”
He nods and you take it upon yourself to gently shove the blankets under his body and position his pillow so his head was resting on it a bit better. 
“How’s that?” You ask as you kneel next to his bed. 
“Good,” he smiled and reached out to grab your hand.
“What?” You asked when you saw that his eyes were open again and he was staring up at you. “What’s the matter?”
“I miss daddy,” he answers and you could hear the quiver in his voice. 
You pout down at him and lean in to kiss the top of his head. “I know you do,” you murmur. “He’ll be back soon. Would you like me to stay with you until he gets home?”
When Joey nods, you move so you’re sitting on the carpet next to his bed, your back against the side of it and your hand locked with his smaller one. 
And as you waited for Clay to get back, the soft sounds Joey made as he fell asleep slowly but surely had your eyes shutting and your own body giving into sleep as well. 
-
“Yes, mother, I’ll let her know,” Clay muttered as he entered the house and quietly shut the door behind him, despite knowing that no one would have been able to hear it, anyway. “I’ll see you next week.”
“You’ll take care of yourself, right?” Lilith asked and he could hear the worry laced in her voice. “Maybe you should have Y/n stay over to keep an eye on you.”
“Jesus, mom, I’m twenty seven years old,” he grunted as he shoved his keys into his pocket and ascended the stairs. “She’s here to look after my kid, not yours.”
“I just worry about you, Clay,” she said quietly, making him sigh as he poked his head into the living room. He knew he wouldn’t find Joey or you in there, but he still checked anyway. 
He had gotten home much later than he expected to, and he was a bit annoyed at how his meeting went today. At about four PM he was ready to call it a day and he wanted nothing more than to go home to his kid and maybe chat up his babysitter a bit before having an early night in, but clearly that didn’t happen at all. 
“Don’t stress yourself out,” he said in a much calmer tone as he looked in the kitchen as well. He found that it was once again spotless, and his mood lifted considerably at that. His eyes narrowed at the pots drying on the dish rack, a small smile forming on his lips as he realized that you had made pasta. Joey’s favorite. “I’ll be fine. You have a nice trip, alright?”
“I’m here for business, Clay. I’d hardly call that a trip,”
The call ended not long after that as he made his way up to the third floor and peeked his head into his son’s room. While he was expecting to find Joey asleep, what was not expecting was to see you sleeping right next to him with your head on his bed and your legs folded on the floor. 
The position you had fallen asleep in would surely result in a stiff neck tomorrow, but even that didn’t seem like a good enough reason to wake you. Joey’s fingers were tangled with yours, and you both looked so peaceful, it felt like Clay’s heart had skipped a beat. 
Or he was having another heart attack at the scene in front of him. 
It was perhaps the sweetest sight he had ever seen, putting aside all the times he’s watched Joey fall asleep, and he truly didn’t think he had the strength to wake you up. 
He knew he needed to, and he knew he would begin to feel like a total creep if he were to wait any longer, so with a quiet sigh, he makes his way over to you. Kneeling down, he smiles at his son before reaching out and gently shaking your shoulder. “Y/n?” He called quietly, pulling his hand away when he saw your eyes open. 
Your gaze met his and he watched as your eyes filled with a bit of confusion. “Clay, hi,” you mumble, sitting up and looking behind you at Joey. You turn back to Clay with wide eyes and a nervous look on your face. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I put him in bed and he wanted me to sit with him until you got home then I accidentally fell asleep somehow, and-”
“Hey,” he cut you off with a laugh, getting off his knees and crouching next to you instead. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay.”
“It’s unprofessional,” you corrected as you rubbed your face roughly. “What if I forgot to lock the door and someone broke in? Or something else happened to Joey and I missed it because I was sleeping? God, this is so embarrassing.”
Clay laughed quietly and gently took your hands in his when you kept them pressed against your face. “It’s fine, Y/n, really. Joey’s fine,” he assured you, pulling your hands away from your face. “You fed him, got him ready for bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep. I don’t care that you fell asleep, too. The door was locked so you weren’t being unsafe or anything. It’s fine.”
His hands were still holding yours, and he hesitantly pulled them away after realizing that - though he really didn’t want to.
You give him an embarrassed smile. “Okay,” you reluctantly murmur, watching as he stands up to his full height and holds his hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you up with little to no effort at all. “Thanks.”
He smiles down at you, his mind begging him to be selfish and say something that would get you to stay a little while longer. “Any plans after this?” He asks and you shake your head, lifting your shoulders in a form of a stretch. 
“No, I was just going to have an early night in,” you say with a shy smile.
Clay knew he had no business asking you what he was about to ask you, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He just witnessed you and his son in the cutest scene ever, his brain was a fuzzy mess at this point. “Would you like to stay for a bit? Other than the day we met, you and I haven’t talked much. You know, one on one. Maybe we can get to know each other better,” he suggested, his eyes a bit wide as he looked for any clues that would indicate you were uncomfortable. For safe measure he added, “Only if you want to.”
Your smile grew a bit at his words, and suddenly he felt less nervous. “Yeah, I’d love to,”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,”
And that was how he found himself sitting next to you on the couch in his living room. Yeah, maybe he was a bit too close to you, and yeah, maybe this lighting was making you look like something straight out of heaven, but Clay was still well aware of the fact that nothing could happen between the two of you. He was your source of income, for fucks sake. Nothing can happen.
“So, I graduated at the top of my class then moved as far as I could with the money I had saved up. They don’t tell you how expensive places are in the big city until you’re stranded in it,” you say as you lean back against the couch, a pillow placed on your lap like last time. “That’s how I found myself scrambling to find a job. I lucked out when I ran into you, oddly enough.”
Clay grinned at that as he believed that he was the lucky one. His kid adored you and it was clear you adored his kid. You were kind and genuine and you thought about both him and Joey. His mind went back to the first night you made him dinner, and the cute note you left with it. 
The same note that was still stuck to his alarm clock right now.
His mothers words echoed in the back of his head and he debated on whether or not it was too soon to ask you if you are able to stay the night so you can get Joey ready in the mornings. “I think Joey and I are the lucky ones,” he says instead. “That kid loves you already.”
You grin over at him with that pretty smile of yours and Clay felt the heat rush to his face, feeling like he didn’t really deserve to be at the center of your attention right now. Sam really fucked him up and he knew it would take a long time for him to feel whole again now that he didn’t have her anymore, but it didn’t seem so bad ever since he met you. You, for some reason, made everything seem a bit easier. “I’m glad,” you say quietly, despite Clay moving the two of you downstairs and into the living room so you wouldn’t wake Joey up with your conversation. “You’ve got a cute kid, Clay. He is far too sweet for his own good.”
Before Clay could stop himself or think about his words, he blurted out, “You and him have that in common,” he knew how inappropriate that sounded and he also knew he needed to take it back somehow or find a way to make it sound less…weird. 
But you just smile again and look away. “Well, I don’t know where I get it from, but Joey for sure gets it from his dad,” you responded and Clay had to turn away as he felt his face heat up once again.
He debated on whether or not he should just go for it and ask if you are available to stay over for a few nights. Fuck it. What’s he got to lose other than a really great babysitter? “Hey, uh….are you able to stay over from Sunday night to late Wednesday? It’s just my mom is out on this trip and I would be late for work if I were to try to get Joey ready for school on my own. There’s a guest room a few doors down from mine,”
You studied his face for a bit and he could see the smile you were fighting off as you leaned back against the couch. “Sleepovers with the Beresfords?” You tease with a small grin. “I’m honored.”
Clay forced out a laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, you help out so much around here, and Joey would be so happy to have you around for that long,” he said then quickly added, “If you’re not able to or already have plans that’s fine. I’ll figure something else out-”
“Clay, I think we’ve already established that my social life is lacking severely at the moment,” you laughed and leaned over a bit, giving him a hint of the sweet vanilla scent of your perfume. “I’d love to stay over and help get Joey ready for school. Hey, maybe I can even help clean up this place. It’s pretty messy.”
You laugh again when Clay looks around the damn near spotless living room before he shakes his head with a smile. “Have at it,” he said back then met your eyes. You looked so pretty right now, the lamp on the side table illuminating only half your face, but you still looked so pretty. He could kiss you right now. He wanted to. Fuck, did he want to. 
Professional, Clay. Keep it professional. She’s your kid’s hot babysitter, get over it. 
He could tell himself that all he wanted, but it wouldn’t make him any more interested in actually pursuing it. “Thanks,” he said in response to your agreement. 
You smiled again and Clay felt himself leaning closer to you just slightly. He could do it right now. Say fuck it and see what it felt like to kiss you after imagining it from day one. 
Nothing can happen. Nothing can happen. Nothing can happen. 
You were a mere few inches away now, and you were clearly waiting for him to make the next move. He wanted to, so badly. 
But he waited too long. He thought about it too much and now you are pulling away with a sheepish look on your face. “It’s getting late,” you say quietly as you stand up. “I should get going.”
Clay made a move to stand up as well. “I’ll walk you to the door,”
You nodded and allowed him to guide you out of the living room and down to the first floor, where the two of you fell into your routine of him wishing you a goodnight and requesting you to let him know you got home safely before watching you get into a cab and head home.
-
Shorter chapter since I am drowning in assignments, but sleepovers are next ;)
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sangwooooh · 6 months
Text
Why won’t you speak?
“Even dead they ignore you, huh?”
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This is the second part. If you want to read the first part, the link is at the end. Sorry, it took me a while :,)
Warnings: character death, mental issues, grief, child neglect (?), disability (m/n is using crutches because of the injury he got from an accident in his younger years). Canon divergence … ? Regardless, I’ve changed things. also, the addition of Roy Harper ;)
“Close your eyes for a second, won’t you?”
M/n chuckles, “What do you want, Roy? Don’t we have anything better to do?” He closes his eyes nonetheless. Wouldn’t hear him say it out loud, but M/n will probably do anything if it was Roy who asked. That’s how the two of them are.
“Just…,” there is some shuffling. What is that man doing? “Just bear with me for a sec.”
“Fine, I’ll indulge you. But it better be worth it.” M/n added as more of a joke at the end. It wouldn’t even matter if it was worth it or not, if Roy considered it so.
Roy sighs and touches M/n’s shoulder, slides his fingers down to his hand and holds it, squeezing it softly. Then the touch is no more and M/n is left feeling cold.
“You can open your eyes now.”
“I’m married now, by the way.”
“What?!” Jason stands up in shock. He clears his throat because some heads turn his way. They are in a public place, after all. A dingy bar, but still public.
“Yeah. Who would’ve thought, huh?” Roy plays with a small lock of his hair as Jason sits back down. 
“It’s… something.” Jason coughs.
Roy pushes his friend slightly, no ill intention there. Jason laughs that laugh of his that leaves Roy stunned. An almost fragile smile graces the redhead’s lips and he can’t help the sigh that escapes him.
Jason swirls his drink, a low quality beer that doesn’t even get the job done, but it’s cheap and it’s alcohol so whatever, “She’s one lucky girl.” He looks straight at the queasy liquid and feels a lump forming in his throat. A tiny one, the one he gets from time to time, at the thought of what his life could have been. He can’t even comfort himself with the idea of another Jason in another world living happily in his stead. He doesn’t believe he is that lucky. Entertaining the thought only brings something close to nostalgia for what has never happened and… well, how would he even begin to explain?
He gets another push from Roy, one that pulls him out of his thoughts. “Hey!” Jason exclaims.
“Look at you assuming!” Roy ruffles Jason’s hair.
Jason pushes Roy’s hands away from his freshly washed hair.
“Who ever said they were a girl? I’ll let you know that I’m the lucky one to have my hubby.” Roy is presenting the most disgustingly precious heart eyes, almost making Jason visibly shudder.
Once Jason gets Roy off him he fixes his hair (not really doing much, but whatever) and downs the rest of his drink. He leaves some money on the table, nodding to the bartender (poor guy was trying to wipe away some stain that was probably never gonna leave that sorry excuse of a bar), who nods back.
“Let’s get out of this shithole.”
“Uh-Uh, okay.” Roy quickly downs his apple juice, cringes, then leaves his own payment on the greasy table.
As they walk down the dark streets of Gotham, Jason looks at the smogged up sky, can almost see the clear moon if he squints.
“How’s he like?”
Roy sighs dreamily, “My life’s been pretty shitty after you ‘died’, but he helped me get better. He is… I wouldn’t know how to explain it, but there is no need for you to worry, Jason. I’m finally at peace, I would say.” Jason’s friend ends on a sadder note and Jason thinks that, perhaps, he thinks of it too, what could have been.
Jason clasps a hand on Roy’s strong arm, “You’re good. That’s what I need to know.” He smiles at the redhead who looks close to genuinely crying. Tears gather in the no longer child’s eyes too, but Jason doesn’t let them fall. Memories are blurred, but some spring up now that he looks Roy in the eyes. If they hug it out and some tears slip, it’s for only them to know.
M/n cooks breakfast for Bruce, Tim and Alfred, as he does every now and again, whenever he stops by the manor. Roy doesn’t complain and, of course, he joins, aiding his hubby with the help he needs. When Bruce tries to keep him at the door, Roy can always use the I’m part of the family now argument.
Speaking of Roy, he’s been behaving strange as of lately. He comes in late and he leaves at the first sign of daylight. If he were anybody else, M/n would suspect cheating or growing back into old habits, but that simply isn’t his Roy. M/n is pretty sure his husband will say something pretty soon. He always slips up. Can’t keep a secret from M/n to save his life.
M/n picks up the plates, balancing them on one hand, the other holding onto his crutch for dear life, and takes six instead of five. He stares for the longest time at the extra plate, then places it back. With the five plates in hand, he heads towards the enormous table (it always seemed bigger than the world when he was younger, just like Bruce), stumbling here and there on the carpet (it’s not that the carpet isn’t neatly placed every time, courtesy of Alfred, but handling everything with one hand is harder than you’d think), and sets it nicely. He has developed a sense of dexterity around the house, even with the setbacks. Alfred smiles proudly at him as the older man brings the pancakes from the kitchen.
“I’ll go get the honey.” Dick and Alfred used to look at M/n with concern when he first started eating honey with his pancakes. After all, Jason expressly used to talk about how it was ‘ultimately the only way he likes pancakes’.
“It’s alright, I got it.” Bruce appears from the kitchen as well, making M/n jump.
“Don’t just sneak up on people, dad!”
Bruce scratches the back of his head, “Sorry, can’t really turn the stealth mode off.” Tim snorts from his spot at the table. The brooding bat is trying to be better, M/n knows this. He can’t help, however, the lingering loneliness he feels whenever he looks at his father too long. It’s not something he can control, really. But dark thoughts must be kept at bay.
Roy makes his way into the room, hands wet from washing them. He walks to M/n and places a kiss on his husband’s cheek, using the diversion as a chance to wipe his wet hands on M/n’s hoodie (that, actually, belongs to Roy). M/n gasps in faux shock, but Roy only laughs and pecks him on the lips.
“Love you.” Roy says cheerily, loud enough for the whole room to hear. Bruce clears his throat, eyes narrowed, hand squeezing on the honey jar.
“Careful not to break that, Master Bruce.” Alfred speaks with an amused glint in his eyes. “How about we all get to the table? Master M/n has made us quite the nice breakfast.” Alfred ushers all of them in their respective places. All on one side of the big table. Bruce at the head, to his right Tim, to his left M/n. Roy is to the left of M/n, and Alfred to the right of Tim. M/n doesn’t escape the images flashing before his mind’s eye: a boy in front of him, not Tim, and he talks like he has the whole world to fill with words and not nearly enough time. Right after, M/n couldn’t bare to see the spot empty and when, two years later, Tim came and filled it himself, M/n couldn’t bear to see it filled by somebody else. M/n swallows hard, yet the lump is still there, pressure in his chest growing steadily. It happens from time to time, the feeling of the world falling around him, the feeling of helplessness from within in regards to the falling. Tears sting his eyes, yet he doesn’t let them fall. He tries to take a bite of his pancakes, oozed in honey, but they get stuck in his throat, choking him. He bends forward for the water glass in front of him. The cold liquid clears his throat and eases the constricted passage.
“Do you ever think of going back?”
Jason stares at the resting figure belonging to a life so far away. The sun is too bright and the flowers pale in comparison to the now man laying in the grass. The manor is as imposing as Jason remembers it — as if through a dream. It’s unreal. And so is the sight of his brother. He looks almost… peaceful. It makes Jason’s stomach churn and twist with he doesn’t know what. Maybe it’s pain or some itch he can’t scratch that goes as deep as his soul. Or maybe it’s longing? His hands shake (they always do, like what the fuck? can’t he just do something without thinking he’s going to fucking burst? get destroyed more than he already is? what even is his fucking life. it’s not even a question anymore. there is no life left. there is nothing. he is nothing. just a pile of bones covered in flesh that should’ve long rotten to dust) and he feels too little on the outside, too much on the inside. He wants to fucking scream! He wants to yell to RAGE AT THE WORLD AND AT THE NEANT and he wants to whisper about everything (about nothing at all) and he wants to have a vanishing act, finally catch up with his end. That is his brother! His brother? Ever since he was able to remember anything at all about his old life, M/n has been there, nagging and pocking and there always there (GOD IF YOU ARE REAL make his un-life make some sort of sense), being the brother he had never been seen as. Conversations that could have been. Conversations that never will be. Jason’s mind is a scrambled mess of scorched and festered brain. He can’t make up half the things he thinks. But, somehow, M/n shines through and it hurts.
He hasn’t seen his home in what feels like an eternity. He has been, in fact, putting it off. It doesn’t even feel like home, just a memory slowly melting into a void in his mind. It’s no lie that Jason half expect his brain to drip out of his ears in his sleep at some point.
“It’s useless, pathetic even, to think of something I can never have. So, yes. I do. I am, in fact, quite useless and pathetic.”
M/n doesn’t notice anything wrong at first, nothing out of common or eye catching. In fact, he would say he doesn’t feel as much of the pressure as he usually does. The world is so big and, really, today it feels like he might be in it too. And it doesn’t occur to him in this moment (perhaps it is that M/n stops it from occurring) that he hasn’t been in it for far too long for that to be true.
Tears don’t—tears don’t exist. They are not real as they fall down his cheeks and he moves his arm to try and stop them. He tries to keep the raptures of his soul from reaping further, he really tries. You have to believe him. M/n really tries to see the world as it is. He just can’t stop himself from seeing it as it should be.
Because he should be here too, seeing the flowers bloom and the sun shining just right, happy and God without those lifeless eyes he sees in his dreams every night (yet in some of his dreams they are so full of life it’s overwhelming; in those dreams Jason is back and he is laughing again and M/n apologizes for everything and things are good; reality often disappoints).
He doesn’t notice the figure creeping up on him, not with his trembling fingers rubbing at his eyes as he slowly and rustily sits up on the grass.
“Get it together, M/n. It’s been over for too long, there is no going back.” M/n sighs his tears away, eventually wiping them with his shirt.
It’s too quite in the garden, even with the occasional chirping of the birds or the buzzing of the busy bees, thus he hears the voice well enough to know it’s not the wind.
“What’s been over?”
M/n’ head snaps up so fast he gets a bit dizzy. The sun casts the man in front of his eyes in a gentle light, and he is so tall as he approaches that he casts M/n in a slight shadow. M/n stares at the man, confused. How did he get here?
“E-Excuse me…?” M/n squints up at the man and can barely distinguish some of his features. Dark hair with a white streak that softens his face. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
The man… smiles?
“Yeah… I’m not.” There is a certain nuance to his voice, a note of… sadness.
M/n doesn’t no why, but he feels warm in the presence of this person, and it’s not just the sun, “Do I know you?” M/n asks before he can stop himself.
M/n have the chance to say anything more as the man slowly crouches to his eye level, a cace illuminated in the sun, blue eyes with specs of green.
It’s immediate, instant and shattering— the recognition. It doesn’t take anything more than looking into those eyes, the eyes he sees in his sleep, the eyes that haunt the corners of his mind and hide in the shadow of every memory.
M/n makes a sharp intake of breath, involuntary and too sudden. He doesn’t what he is doing, his actions uncontrolled. He raises his hands to the cheeks of the man in front of him, the man who seems as stuck in place as M/n. M/n rubs softly at the skin, not sure if it belongs to the physical world.
“…Jason?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, quite to his own ears. He smiles through the stinging in his eyes, then shakes his head, “No… this is my dream… always my dream.”
There is conflict in his Jason’s eyes, something M/n can’t figure out, something he’ll never know.
It is a dream because reality is never this kind. He spends moments staring at his Jason’s features, taking them in, admiring the handsome face that could have been if the little boy from back then had been give a chance. When M/n speaks again, he’s already lived a thousand realities in his mind.
“Why do I wake up every time? It’s always better here, with you, than back there where everybody expects me to be real…” A lone tear drips down M/n’s cheek. “You are always quiet in my dreams. So strange…”
“What’s been over?” His Jason repeats, slightly startling him, and he looks at M/n with the same lack of resolve M/n feels. His Jason looks as close to the end as M/n feels. His Jason looks like a requiem to M/n’s final dream of life.
“I always try to tell you, but I never quite get the chance… How,” He looks deep into the apparition’s eyes, the windows to his Jason’s soul, “How much I regret not listening to you.”
His Jason tenses under his hands. His eyes look conflicted again, shadowed by feelings M/n can hardly recognize as a reflection of his own soul. The man brings his hands up to M/n’s own and takes them away from his cheeks, envelops them in the soft skin that feels too real.
“You just wanted me to listen to you, to hear you, right?” M/n tries to keep his smile on his face, but his muscles are heavy with grief and it’s too hard, “I couldn’t see beyond the thought that you were there to replace me because I was defected.” He slips one of his hands from his Jason’s. M/n place it at the back of the man’s neck, running his fingers through the fluffy hair there. His Jason latches his now free hand to M/n’s forearm, holding it tight.
“I miss you.”
Tears gather in Jason’s eyes and his lower lip trembles. He hasn’t cried in so long and, so sudden, he cries twice in a week. He tries to keep it in by biting his lower lip, but the sob, however muffled, still escapes the confines of his soul.
He wants to scream ‘I’m real! I’m here, stop crying, please! You are my brother, even though I thought you’ve hated me when I was alive!’ But he can’t bring himself to talk, he can’t bring himself to say anything as more quiet sobs escape his bitten lips.
“You feels so real…” M/n looks up at him with bigger eyes than the world, with an inner peace one would only have in the happiest of dreams, pain seeping in at the edges. Is this a dream? It might be a dream. Jason always thinks he’ll wake up to stare at the inside of a coffin, six feet under. “But you always feel real. You always feel so real, and I always wish I weren’t. Maybe if I weren’t, you’d still be here.” A sob finally escapes his brother’s lips as well, pain winning over. “Maybe, then, everything would be alright again… You know, for the longest time dad couldn’t even look me in the eyes. You meant the world to him, you still do.”
Jason lets go of his lower lip and lets the sobs free, not able to hold back anymore. He feels like a child again. He didn’t get to be a child, didn’t get to cry and to be held and he feels rage because he wants it, he wants it so bad.
Jason wants to have the warmth of his childhood, not just some half assed memories of good for nothing parents who left him and closer memories—a big brother who has the biggest smile, another brother who looks at him like his world is smaller just for Jason’s existence (not knowing that, to Jason, M/n was the one who made the world bigger), a butler who always knows what to say and a father who gives him something his real parents could never.
All the rage he felt, all the rage he kept inside himself for years after being brought back to a world that he no longer belonged in was being brought forth and he felt like a child. His dad never avenged him, his killer is still out there, but how can he hate the man that loved him so much Jason felt like the whole world was his? How can he possibly understand what that man thought and felt? His brother, whom Jason always thought hated him with everything in his soul, is here in front of him, talking about Jason like Jason is M/n’s entire world, like he wishes he was dead instead.
Why did Jason die? Why did Jason have to die?
The little boy in him, the little boy that cries and cries and hasn’t stopped crying, needs Jason to let go of his rage. But how can he do that? How could he ever do that?
Jason looks down towards M/n’s hand that is still in his grasp and squeezes it to his cheek as Jason leans forward to M/n’s chest. He falls to the ground and, even with his body being larger than his brother’s, he feels so small and on the verge breaking.
“Why did I die?” M/n frees his arms and wraps them around Jason’s shivering form. “Why did I have to die?” Jason closes his eyes and feels the warmth of his brother’s body. His body is rotting around him and the world doesn’t feel real, but the brother who had never wanted him feels the realest anyone ever has.
Jason realizes M/n is shaking as well. “I don’t know. I’m sorry it had to be you,” M/n squeezes Jason tighter, leaning into him as if wanting to keep him away from the world. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it was you.”
Why is M/n talking like Jason isn’t real? This is real life, right? If this is a dream and Jason has to wake up again after this, he doesn’t think he’ll live. He won’t make it.
“I’m real, M/n, please believe me, I’m real” Jason rubs his face into M/n’s shirt, staining it even more with his tears, “I’m real, I’m real, please I’m real” Jason repeats it like a prayer, he is praying to the God that has abandoned him, praying because he wants it so badly to be real. Because he doesn’t feel real. Not anymore.
“I’m scared that soon there might be nothing left for you to miss.”
@tkiesai
Part 1:
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shegetsburned · 6 months
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Since you like Kusakabe, could you share some hcs for us Kusakabe fans 🥺🥺
making my pathetic heart full with this request, i absolutely can <3 this is basically what i could think of in the moment, I'd also love to see some hcs from you anon!
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꒰ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙠𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 ꒱
man has back problems. he’s stretching and massaging his shoulders often to release the pain. i guess it’s carrying all that stress during missions or something.
i just know this man is always so unlucky. he wanted to avoid by any means necessary dangerous sorcerers/curses in shibuya and just happened to find himself beside none other than the king of curses. and he curses under his breath every time something like this happens.
i’m sure he rethought all his life choices as soon as sukuna showed up too.
like i already mentioned; enormous forearms due to his sword training. and they’re hairy too just how I like it
he’s like a dad who’s stuck with kids and doesn’t want to endorse these responsibilities but is so good with them nonetheless. like how he teaches stuff almost better than satoru so that the students understand.
so basically, the kind of teacher that doesn’t give a fuck but that all the students like.
he’s the type to say "fuck this job." then go to work every day.
kusakabe’s so grumpy bro. he’d answer your every question but look so done with you while doing it.
he snorts when he sleeps.
he has a whole ass collection of lures that he keeps hidden at home.
prefers to text than call and there are never any emojis nor traces of joy. he’ll never forget the coma too.
kusakabe’s determined to look presentable every day before work. not that he takes a lot of time to prepare. it’s more that he insists on wearing his usual black blazer and coat which makes him look more professional.
to go on about appearances, he shaves his beard every day and it’s so clean too. i mean, have you seen his perfect sideburns?
also, he’d just ruffle his hair and go on about his day, not other care needed and he looks so hot nevertheless
often mumbles "why the fuck am i here?"
prefers winter over all other seasons.
i feel like he’s also pretty healthy, i mean he has stopped smoking and i know he eats basic but healthy stuff most of the time.
has one favourite type of lollipop and doesn’t want to experiment with other flavours.
i’m sorry but his jawline? UGH.
𝙖/𝙣 : definitely going to do some for hcs for him as your man so never worry about the lack of content for him sweet anon, i gotcha. also i’m obsessed with him and will never stop being annoying so please be annoying with me kusakabe lovers.
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