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#don’t mind the fact that these are all just random quotes I could remember on the top of my head
artfartt · 13 days
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Good omens Sammymacks but swapped organized for your enjoyment (spoilers for s1 and 2 near the end)
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(This was definitely not a reason just to draw Sam as Crowley noooo…)
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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 1 year
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Hey, if you don’t mind me asking I’d love to hear your opinions on a few Hinny related questions, I love how real you are when answering questions about Hinny. It’s very refreshing and straightforward, it’s like you call it how you see it and also looking in from another perspective other than your own. (I hope I didn’t conditioning 😂 👀)
Do you think Harry teases Ginny with the singing valentine?
Do you think they every played a game of truth or dare but with a twist of using Veritaserum?
Do you think Ginny ever had second thoughts before marrying Harry? Even though our girl is strong and has a lot of witty comebacks/remarks against people trying to bring her down, do you think it ever affected her engagement with Harry?
Also, do you think Harry is carefree when it comes to drinking? I don’t know why but sometimes I see him as very cautious when drinking (he gets reminded of Ron’s poisoning ) and other times I imagine that he wants to be able to let loose with Ginny at a pub or a quidditch game and just feel “free”. Also, the fact that no matter what he wants to be able to protect Ginny just like his father tried protecting his mum, so would that mean he has a bit of trouble keeping the weights off his shoulders on a date night with the woman he loves?
I love answering Hinny questions, and it makes me so happy to hear that someone out there enjoys hearing my opinion about my faves!
Oh 100% Harry teases her every single Valentine's Day, to the point where Ginny is not embarrassed by it anymore. They both quote it together.
It's possible that the Gryffindors got together and played truth or dare during HBP, but I don't see Veritaserum getting involved since it seems like such a high level potion to make and expensive to use just in a game of truth or dare. I don't think they would play just the two of them nor with Ron and Hermione. But getting all the 5th, 6th, and 7th years together to play a massive game of Truth or Dare on a random Friday night is something that could happen! I also think a group of Gryffindors to play Truth or Dare just turns into a game of Dares very quickly, because I see Seamus and Dean loudly booing any person who picks Truth.
Canonically, by the time Ginny and Harry are at the stage to get married, I don't think there is any doubt in either one of their brains that they want to get married. However, whenever I listen to Midnight Rain by Taylor Swift, I imagine a world where Harry wants to get married and Ginny is not ready because she wants to become a world famous Quidditch player and she knows that Harry does not want fame so they break up. (and they eventually get back together in this world because I cannot live in a world where they don't end up together).
I think out of the two, it's Ginny who is more cautious while drinking. I think her first year when she constantly woke up not remembering anything made her never want to black out. This is something that is briefly mentioned in BrightlyBound's Erased (A fantastic fic!) and it has stuck with me ever since. Harry obviously supports Ginny and never gets wasted with her, but they both enjoy going out with the Harpies and the Aurors, and laughing at Ron as he makes a fool of himself.
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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years
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1 and 3 for Gandalf and Faramir pls?
1. “When I think they became friends”
Cue the “plundering the Appendices” music!
So Appendix A gives us a broad-strokes summary of the family of the Stewards. There aren’t a lot of dates given, but it does tell us that Faramir “welcomed Gandalf at such times as he came to the City, and he learned what he could from his wisdom; and in this as in many other matters he displeased his father."
My clue for the timeline here actually comes at the end of that sentence. The reason Denethor disliked Gandalf isn’t just because he’s a turd (although he is a turd); it’s because mental battle with Sauron through the Palantir meant that “pride increased in Denethor together with despair”, and he became so narrow-minded that he “mistrusted all others who resisted Sauron, unless they served himself alone.” We also know from earlier in the paragraph that Denethor never tried looking into the Palantir until after the death of his wife Finduilas; Appendix B tells us that she died in the year 2988, when Faramir was five years old.
SO. We know that Gandalf visited Minas Tirith every so often by his own volition, and Faramir would take the opportunity to learn from him, and that Denethor didn’t like that. That’s definitely when Gandalf and Faramir cultivated their friendship. WHEN exactly those lessons happened—whether they occurred before or after Faramir “came to manhood”—isn’t specified.
Maybe Denethor was approving or ambivalent to the lessons at first, and only developed a hatred and distrust for Gandalf later in life, as the darkness began to take hold of his mind. If that’s the case, Gandalf could have been present very early in Faramir’s life, before Sauron really began to corrupt his father. But if the first quote I mentioned means that Denethor ALWAYS hated those lessons—as I think it does—then that means Gandalf couldn’t have been in Faramir’s life until sometime after the death of Findulas.
So: Minimum age of Faramir, five or six years old, I think; I don’t know how long it took for that “pride and despair” to grow in Denethor. Maximum age of Faramir, right around the cusp of adulthood. Again, the paragraph discusses Boromir and Faramir’s personality differences in the context of them growing up.
My best guess would be that Gandalf really started to bond with Faramir when the kid was a young teenager; right around the time that kids start to get ideas of their own and break away from mindlessly parroting what their parents taught them.
3. “A random headcanon I have of them”
Faramir is one of the few humans who has ever petted Gandalf’s beard and come out unscathed.
Plenty of Hobbit children have done the same, of course. They’re Hobbits; who could refuse them? But Gandalf would allow very, very few of the race of Men to get into his personal space without a loud threat to singe their hands off and leave them with nothing but burnt little stumps on the ends of their arms.
Faramir is different. Faramir was just a kid. Right around the time they started to get particularly close—but before Faramir was old enough to be embarrassed by it—Gandalf was bent over a map, explaining the locations of old kingdoms and the movements of ancient armies, and Faramir was listening so intently that, without him realizing it, his little hand found the tail end of Gandalf’s beard that was resting in the table, and he absentmindedly petted the unfamiliar texture as he listened.
There was, of course, a split second that Gandalf thought of roasting Faramir’s hands off (or at least loudly threatening to do so), but then he thought nah, he’s just a kid, he means no harm by it, and kept talking.
Faramir never consciously remembered the incident, but the tactile memory sort of molded itself into an undisputed fact of how he understood the universe: Mithrandir’s beard is soft. He didn’t remember how he knew that. He just knew.
This, of course, caused a bit of hilarity several years later, when Pippin was talking about Gandalf and said with a shudder, “he’s terrifying when he’s angry with you, and his beard sticks out all like a patch of thorns,” and Faramir said “but surprisingly soft” and then both of them sat in silence for a second to process what he just said.
“How do you KNOW that?!”
“I DON’T KNOW!!”
FRIENDSHIP ASK GAME!
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niragixpsych · 1 year
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🍩🍟🌙🍧🍁🌹🙈🙉🌱🌏📖📸🎁👑✏️👖🎀🖍️📎
𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!
🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?
He loves mochi and strangely enough KitKat.
🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?
In the normal world he tends to order more often if he has lots of work to do. He isn't that fond of cooking despite being a decent cook.
🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?
He wants to have someone to truly connect with, someone that will be by his side no matter what. He doesn't want to be alone.
🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?
He has some childhood photos still, but nothing else from his past. His childhood was a rather lonely one with both parents working all the time. The photos are more for him to see where he came from, but he wouldn’t get upset if they should get lost. Sometimes he kind of wishes though he still had his dog plush from back then.
🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?
He actually enjoys summer because he can go outside and just sit somewhere and let the sun warm his skin. It allows him to just be and not think.
🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?
He dislikes Valentines Day and thinks it's a stupid holiday. And yes he received a few confessions after he turned 18 and the bullying stopped but he didn't care about it. And no he didn't confess on Valentine's Day. But if he has someone he is invested in he might do something, but only if his partner is into it.
🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?
His weaker, scared or more some and vulnerable side.
🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?
He heard it all by now so nothing can shock him anymore.
🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?
Coming home from school one day to find a note on the kitchen table. His parents would be gone for 14 days on business trips. They left him some money for food and that was it.
🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?
Yes, he would do that despite some people maybe thinking that he is too selfish for that. And he will make that decision within a heartbeat without any hesitation.
📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what’s their favourite genre?
Sometimes he does like it, but he hasn't a favorite genre.
📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?
He doesn't mind it because he is aware he is good looking. But he has no signature pose. And he likes taking photos of things that can be used as an inspiration or to capture a memory.
🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?
Any gift would do if he could sense the person thought of him while choosing it. And he is good at giving gifts if he wants to be.
👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?
"Hated, despised, further hated, living a life to be further despised."
✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?
Far too many to put them here. But I will put one example here: "I'll continue living, despised by others. I will continue to incur hate, and hold my head up high as I go to Hell!!"
👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?
Anything with dark colors.
🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?
I have all aus with him that I need I think. But I'm open to suggestions.
🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?
That he should allow himself to heal and grow from his past.
📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.
He actually cares about how he looks.
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violet-heaven · 2 years
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https://bispywithanacecase.tumblr.com/post/687156453964906496/send-me-a-character not to be predictable as one could ever possibly get but the resident gay lil meow meow (not actually evil) wilsonn
Hey anon, I was so confused by this ask for a second before I remembered that I had asked for characters SHNSJKS I had to go back and check
My favourite thing about them: Wilson’s hand gestures are my favourite thing. He can be so dramatic, and it’s both funny and endearing. Like the episode “All In” where he was describing his win. And of course, his “ah ha, you tried to kill me!” Is one of my favourite quotes from the show.
My least favourite thing about him: This should be pretty obvious but his reputation of cheating on his spouses. I’ve always been against cheating with a burning passion. I do still think it’s a great flaw for him to have though, it makes a lot of canonical sense and adds so much to his character.
My favourite canon relationship: Hilson /hj. Okay if we’re talking canon canon, I don’t have any Wilson ships that I like. Amber and Wilson were cute? I never liked it even if I love both Amber and Wilson. So in terms of canon relationships, I guess I’d say Wamber (though that doesn’t work with my HC for his sexuality)
My favourite non-canon relationship: Do we need to ask. I have a whole blog on it FNDNSKS. House and Wilson are very very special to me. It’s my favourite ship in the show, and for good reason. I’ve talked about it so much at this point that I don’t think I need to go over the reasons but they fit together like two puzzle pieces and complete each other. I love them
The sexuality I headcanon for them: Props to the House M.D fandom for this, because trans gay Wilson has been in my mind since the time they came up with it. If you scroll down my posts, we have a lot of headcanons for the characters but I have a soft spot for this specific HC.
What I’d do if I spent the day with them: This is such a good question. I’d probably grab ice cream with Wilson and listen to him talk. He deserves to have a moment of peace, just to clear his mind after all the shit he’s been through. Besides, there’s this one moment where House says Wilson paints his toenails so I’d love to sit with him and paint our nails together.
Random fact about them that I like: His ability to trick House whenever he wants. Wilson knows House really well, and he can be extremely intelligent alongside Cuddy (a friendship I adore) so the moments where he manages to get the upper hand on House are fun, especially because of House’s expression every time.
This was fun! Thank you for the ask, anon :)
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saraptor · 10 days
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15 or less LINES OF DIALOGUE FROM AN OC!
Thanks for the tag @mxanigel !!
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!
Most of these are random scraps/snippets/unfinished drafts from Laenlun's story and are all quotes by him!
1. “Mama says I am perfect the way I am.”
2. “Just start running and don’t stop. If you feel that bad, then remember my dramatic sacrifice for the greater good and keep going.”
3. “That acorn fellow was onto something.”
4. “I cannot believe how benign everything seemed as a child. It was all so... unassuming. But a few years later, the corpse is showing up at my doorstep because I loved its killer and it's come to eat me back.”
5. “Dreams and nightmares and fantasies all tend to get mixed together. A nightmare is just your fingerprints on glass. A fantasy was my belief as a child that my parents would ever approve of a spouse. A dream is something that's technically probable. Reality is the fact I’m overthinking again.”
6. “What people offer I know deep down isn’t for me. Or, maybe I’m not for them.”
7. “Every morning I look at myself at wonder ‘What the actual fuck am I doing?’”
8. “If you were only disgusting, I’d care less. But you had to kill people, lots of people, really far more people than normal, so now I have to get involved. This is why you don’t kill lots of people.”
9. “Tell me I was wrong! Tell me that they were all twisted, pitiful excuses for people and that I wasn’t justified! Otherwise, keep your mouth shut if you weren’t there and you don’t know.”
10. “I can’t be scared of the dark, the person I love is the sun. And the sun never sleeps.”
11. “Oh, no, no, no, I love sitting on a crumbly wall with a drop to certain death directly beneath my feet—yeah no shit I'm avoiding the Inquisitor! That’s what you do when you really don’t get along with someone: You avoid them.”
12. “I specialize in barriers and healing magic. You might hear that and go, ‘Oh, he’s a pushover, good for me.’ Well, my barriers don’t let air though for one, and for two, my healing is parasitic in nature. Also, my companion here is in need of emergency treatment. Thank you for your generous donation to the war effort.”
13. “Fire doesn't really have a smell. You're smelling the smoke, the warning. It's not the danger, but your mind is telling you it is. So, when you run into the warmth, you think it's safety. You don't even realize you're already dead.”
14. “Every hand I could have taken but didn’t and the one that grabbed mine without asking just had to be someone like you. I should feel trapped, but I don’t. I should feel like I’m dying, but I’m not. Make it easy for me and say you’re a talent at emotional manipulation, would you?”
15. “We’ll go somewhere far away. It’s enough to have a life. Sometimes, we think a little too big. Let’s just have this life and call it a day.”
leaving this untagged because idk who has OCs they want to talk about!!! if you do let me know bc i'll tag you!
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Holy fucking shit fellas guess what.
I had deja vu, right? Except I also knew what I was going to think, before I thought it?! And then I remembered REMEMBERING something bad and embarrassing happening to me, at the same time as I was remembering the things they were actually happening, and I looked upon myself, and I could see myself look at myself, and I was literally like fucking this:
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And then, one of the me’s I was remembering was talking to my dead Grandma, and there was also explaining something about Homestuck and some kind of elements to my little brother, accompanied by a “memory” of a fandom wiki page opened to an image of colored circles and symbols (and just for the record I know nothing about Homestuck, zero, zilch, too intimidated, and I certainly know nothing of Homestuck lore) but apparently in another timeline I do?! And the most vivid and scary thing was I wasn’t remembering or recalling any of this myself, I was remembering this from a memory of another me, who I “remember” being in my exact situation, in my position, down to the atom everything the same, having an equally confusing and disturbing experience, except they’re only the second in this strange line of me’s, and I inherit their sudden visions, getting all of this information second hand, from a me that also got all this information second hand, and I’m kinda worried now there’s another me out there who felt and experienced my experience and is now being dealt memories of futures and history that isn’t there own, futures they were locked out of ans opportunities for interactions they missed.
And this is a regular occurrence that has been happening since I was like 4 and every time for half a second I get the shit scared out of me hearing voices and seeing images and faces and me talking to people, minutes worth of conversation and experience condensed into a fraction of a second and dozens of those stacked onto each other and compacted into a short out of body and out of mind experience and memory that lasts less than a second, and it’s absolutely insane because the split second it happens, every time without fail, I think I’m remembering something that happened, until I realize this so called “memory” takes place right where I’m living now, right in my current situation, and right where I’m sitting.
Why the fuck does this keep happening? It’s, insane? I fashion myself as a particularly crazy individual, but this? It shocks me, despite being a relatively common occurrence! It just keeps happening, and suddenly my heart races and I forget where I am in my own body, and then it just stops. And I’m back, like nothing ever happened, and maybe that’s the thing, I’m “remembering” things that never happened, that can’t happen. What a useless ability, to see things in the present at random, but only things that don’t actually happen? Seems more like a mental illness than a super power to me.
My mother told me I gave her a prophecy as a baby among other “paranormal” things, quote un quote “visions”, but whatever gift I may have had then is gone and replaced by sudden spikes of hallucinogenic chemicals my body creates and runs to my brain. That or some god has cursed a future me to look back on and experience every possible life I have lived, and I am in fact not the last me in this terrifying chain of visions of alternate realities, and when it passes through me and disappears, some other poor soul inherits those visions, eventually culminating into one terrifying vision of all possible and impossible lifetimes I’ve lived for either a sinner trapped in a very extreme hell or an ascension for some more spiritually successful version of myself out there in the cosmos to ultimately experience. Is there some kind of “lesson” I have to take away from this? That even in the grand order of my own fate spanning across the multiverse I am in fact, not special and should humble myself? That I am a stepping stone towards my ultimate self or something? Or am I just genuinely insane?!
Either way, shit’s kinda crazy, and this among other things is why I’ve elected to stay away from any and all kinds of drugs, because if this is my brain normally I cower at the thought of how it could possibly get worse. Unfortunately, I suck at keeping promises to myself, and in fact, every time something like this happens, it’s never under the influence. In fact, I’ve been asked more times if I was on drugs while sober than when I was actually on drugs so, maybe I’m just a backwards ass person who knows! I sure as hell don’t.
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suna-reversed · 3 years
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Talking to the moon🌙
Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
minors DNI‼️
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3k+ words
(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)
warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)
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Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.
You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.
You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 
You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 
In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.
On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.
You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 
Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.
Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.
Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.
This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 
That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?
The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.
The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.
What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?
That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.
His initials and a crescent moon.
You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.
--------
You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 
The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.
Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.
He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 
It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.
His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,
“Who did this to you?”
You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,
“Consider this a warning.”
You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.
Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.
“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”
The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 
“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”
The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.
“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.
For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 
His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 
He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 
He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 
“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 
“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.
Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 
“Make it stop please.”
---
Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.
You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 
You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 
“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”
His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 
It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 
You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.
“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 
You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.
“...I promise.”
---
When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.
Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 
But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 
In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 
“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 
—-
“At least I kept my promise.” 
It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 
“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”
He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.
-----
“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  
“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 
“What are you two talking about?”
You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 
“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 
“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 
“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”
“I know- I made it!”
A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 
“I-I do actually want to ask for something”
“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”
“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 
“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”
You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 
“You don’t have to if you-”
“Pick me up at 4”
“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 
------
Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 
Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.
You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 
You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.
------
“I’ll be back in just a second.” 
You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 
“Is everything okay?’ 
He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 
“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  
The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.
You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 
Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 
He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.
He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 
Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.
Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 
it didn’t matter now. 
perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.
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© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.
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sukunasbabymama · 3 years
Text
Big sister.
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𖣓 Summary: Kisaki has a big sister (3-5 years older than him) and she's always by his side no matter what. She gives him gifts and sometimes attends toman (or Tenjiku) meetings with him.
𖣓 Pairing: Kisaki Tetta.
𖣓 Warnings: Just slight gun mention but that’s it.
𖣓 A/N: I end up using time skip Tetta and some more for this one lmao. Also, I’m not tagging anyone since a lot of yall don’t like him and I’m avoiding making y’all uncomfortable.
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One thing's for sure: You’re the only person that he ever respected in his whole life, no question.
He made sure to send you to a good college even though he was younger by five whole years and before y’all come at me remember that this mf can talk his way into almost anything.
Now, as the leader of the most ruthless and dangerous gang, his big sister is by his side like always, as his right hand.
And it’s so known in the criminal world about how Kisaki doesn’t play about you that even if he’s in the middle of an altercation with another gang they don’t dare to even look your way, they know better.
Now, while you’re his right hand and the person in charge of all his financial business, you’re also the older, so of course you make it your mission to keep him healthy.
You barge into his office every single day with two tupperwares with a healthy breakfast, then a good meal and when y’all need to spend the night at the building you go out with Hanma to buy something good for him to eat.
Talking about Hanma, Kisaki has put his gun in the middle of Hanma’s eyebrows one time he was checking you out while you were wearing a short dress. He didn’t tell you to change, he just threatened everybody he encountered that day that if they made you uncomfortable he would blow their brains out.
On random days, you like to surprise him with certain little gifts that he may roll his eyes at you but he appreciates them a lot.
Like that time you gave him a maroon tie that matched with a new blouse that you bought too. He told you absolutely no.
That same night he wore it proudly at an event, matching with you and being the talk of the night as the best dressed siblings.
You’re pretty intelligent yourself, not to his level, but still to be smarter than all his men. And while a lot of the time he already knows about the month’s sales already, he still lets you explain to him every single thing you have in mind.
Even though you can hold yourself just right as the older, you let him take care of you due to his obsession with control.
You’re just his world and he needs to feel like you know it at all times. And it’s good cause he is the best brother you could ever ask for and you don’t care what anybody says.
BONUS:
Past!Kisaki.
One of the reasons why Kisaki has always respected you is because you can be ruthless due to the fact that he would never even raise his voice at you.
Like that time he tried to disrespect some girl at the park and you dragged him by the ear and made him apologize to the poor girl in front of everybody. Later you kissed his head and told him that you love him.
He was so damn confused.
The day he confessed to you he loved Hina you laughed in his face so hard that you fell from the bed.
You told him and I quoted “Has she ever said something more than a hi for you to be talking about love? Worry about the dishes downstairs”
You are the light of his life but why are you so stuck on roasting his ass in every chance you get.
Whatever, you’re still his princess so he’ll take it.
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Text
the one with a fool in love
a/n: i’m going to list this as a blurb even though it’ll have 2/3 parts because i don’t see it as a series... anyway.. cry with me (:
word count: 1.4k
warnings: angst (: (i leave it on a cliffhanger so bare with me hehe)
--
They say falling in love is easy… and truthfully, it is. It only takes one look, one touch, one kiss… then you’re falling all in.
It also didn’t help Harry with the fact that he’s a hopeless romantic. Harry is all about the small details that can make someone smile. The sweet good morning messages, the small gifts he’d make to someone just because it’d remind him of that person, the fact that he’d remember everything he’s told in case he has to comfort them in the future.
Harry couldn’t explain why he was that way – so considerate and thoughtful even if it wasn’t reciprocated, even if it hurt him that it wasn’t appreciated.
Loving (Y/N) was one of the easiest yet hardest thing Harry could ever do. There were no words to explain how much Harry loved her since the moment they met at her father’s publishing company when he started to write his book.
Somehow someway, Harry grew the courage to go up to her, introduce himself, even ask for her number. But the moment she took her phone out of her purse, something called Harry’s attention. Something shiny and huge. An engagement ring on her ring finger.
Time went on and eventually (Y/N) was assigned as his editor and they spend nearly every day together. They’d sometimes leave together for dinner, leave for their separate ways with heavy hearts while the other had no clue.
(Y/N) loved her father. He was amazing, but the man was stubborn. When he wanted something to go a specific way, he’d do anything and everything to make sure it happened that way. It explained why (Y/N) was engaged to Matthew. He wasn’t terrible. She just wasn’t in love. (Y/N)’s father wanted a man to take over the company but given that she was an only child, it’d be whoever she married, and he wanted Matthew. He made them meet, pushed all these ideas into his daughter’s head that it will be beneficial for her in the long run.
Matthew eventually proposed and (Y/N) couldn’t find it in her to say no. She was okay with it for a while. She settled – the one thing she promised herself she’d never do. Then Harry comes along, and she’s fucked.
Harry cared: he listened, he remembered, he took notes. Every time Harry brought her a new chapter to edit, they’d end up talking for hours and hours, (Y/N) having to take work home because she was too busy with Harry instead if working.
It didn’t take long for her to realize what was happening inside of her. She actually looked forward to going to work now. Harry always showed up with her favorite muffin and a little card with a different quote.
Today was no different.
(Y/N) was always the first one to arrive, being welcomed with dark halls and cold windows. By the time Harry arrived, a few other editors were already there and of course, her father too. (Y/N) sat in her office before the door whipped open to reveal a happy Harry with filled hands and a huge smile on his face.
“I come with a new chapter and blueberry muffins. They were out of the banana ones.” Harry walked towards her desk, dropping the papers and small paper bag holding the muffins.
(Y/N) smiled and shook her head as she grabbed the papers, fixing them before adding them to her file with Harry’s name.
“That’s fine. Anything you ever bring me is perfect.” Before she could reach out for the bag of muffins, Harry was handing her the small card with a new quote.
-Sometimes following your heart means losing your mind.-
(Y/N) stared at the card for a few seconds… It felt awfully personal and Harry wouldn’t take her eyes off of her, almost scared of her reaction.
“They’re random, y’know? I bought this little box that brings 365 quotes and I randomly choose one every day to bring it to you.”
Harry’s words snapped her out of her trance, looking back up at Harry with a sigh then a small smile. “Yeah. Um, thank you. Just, got lost in my head.” (Y/N) shoved the card into her purse and reached out for the muffin bag, taking one out of her and one for Harry.
“So, about the last chapter…”
--
“Honey, the wedding planner called saying she hasn’t been able to get in contact with you… Did you lose her number or something? She said we can give her an email if that’s better.” Matthew stood behind (Y/N) in the bathroom as she took off her make up.
Truth be told, she was purposely ignoring their wedding planner. The next 4 months were dreadful, and she told herself that if she ignored the wedding planner, then it’s an excuse to push back the wedding.
“I’ve been so busy. She calls me whenever I’m meeting with clients. I’ll give her a call tomorrow during my lunch.”
Matthew stepped closer to (Y/N), placing his hands on her waist with a kiss to her shoulder. “I told you I can take care of it. You have simple requests.”
No person ever has simple requests for their wedding. They always want it perfect and beautiful. (Y/N) didn’t want a big wedding like she always dreamed of… with a man she loves like she always dreamed of… So, a simple wedding was fine with her. It wasn’t like she was even looking forward to it.
“It’s fine. Leave it to me. I’ll take care of it.”
--
Harry knew he was an utter idiot for loving someone he couldn’t have. Even after conversations where he’d noticed that (Y/N) wasn’t too enthusiastic about her wedding, or her fiancé. She never spoke about it unless necessary. Harry even noticed she’d show up to work more often than not without her ring on.
Part of him lived in this fantasy where (Y/N) loved him too and was ready to leave her fiancé for him. But the realistic side told him that those things only ever happen in movies.
But the curiosity was growing inside of him and he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. He had to ask. He had to know if his mind was playing tricks on him because he knew she had to be feeling something even remotely similar to his own feelings whenever they were together.
“(Y/N)? Can I ask you something personal?”
She looked up from the mock book in her hand, pushing up her glasses to the top of her head.
“’Course, you can. Think we’re more than just client and editor at this point.” She chuckled and Harry nodded, nervously picking at his cuticles.
“Why did you stop wearing your ring?”
(Y/N) wasn’t too shocked to hear Harry ask her that. There was an obvious pull between them, and she knew that at some point, Harry would have questions.
The answer was obvious. She knew she didn’t have to dwell too much on it because it was simple: she loved Harry and felt disrespectful wearing a ring from another man that didn’t make her feel an ounce close to what Harry did. But why say the truth? To have her father cut ends with her? To hurt a man that’s nice to her? To make a fool out of herself when she wasn’t entirely sure that innocent Harry felt the same way?
“I… It’s complicated, Harry. If I say it out loud then I’m officially the shittiest person to walk this earth.” A sigh left her lips, knuckling at her tired eyes and quite frankly too afraid to look into Harry’s eyes because she knows she can’t lie to him. And clearly, he does too.
Harry stood up from the chair parallel to her, both his palms flat on her desk as he levels his face to her.
“Is it because of me, (Y/N)?” Harry’s voice came out barely above a whisper almost afraid someone was listening, his eyes staring right into her own and she knew she couldn’t look away because his were begging for an answer – the answer that could ruin the settled life she had planned but could make her happy again for the first time in forever.
Harry was afraid of her answer. Even though he would want nothing more than to be selfish and have her to himself… she belonged to someone else. (Y/N) was about to start her life with someone else and Harry meant nothing, he was only in the way.
“Please, lie to me. Tell me it isn’t me…”
--
taglist: @mouthfulloftoothpasterry @imavirginhoe @camflowervol6 @evanjh @peaceandloverry @majasophieanna @msolbesg @julietteand-romeo @handsomerry @harrysddtittys @lollypopsx @damnasstyles @gucci-hazza @awesomebooklover17 @ayeshathestyles
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dreamerstreamer · 3 years
Text
Speak Your Mind
Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader
Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)
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George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.
I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world. 
But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.
He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.
[y/n]: hi george!
[y/n]: how are you doing?
George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.
He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.
The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.
You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.
“Woah. You’re really pretty.”
He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”
He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”
“George!”
The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.
Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.
You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.
The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.
Hopefully.
With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.
GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha
[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3
His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.
Oh god, he was so screwed.
He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.
GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?
A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.
[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)
A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.
“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.
“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.
“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”
“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.
But I wish I knew you better.
“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”
He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”
“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”
George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”
He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?” 
He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”
“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?” 
He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”
“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”
He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”
You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”
His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.
“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”
He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.
Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”
You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”
He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”
It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”
A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”
A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”
He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be? 
“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly. 
A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.
You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”
His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?
“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start? 
There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”
He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”
His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.
“You what?”
He froze.
Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?
Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”
A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.
If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.
“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.
“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”
Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.
Why did he do that? How did he do that?
Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard. 
He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.
In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.
“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.
Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.
Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.
He was sure things could only go downhill from here.
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“You what?!”
George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.
“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”
George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”
Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”
All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”
There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”
“Yeah, and?”
Another beat of silence.
“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”
George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”
“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”
“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.
“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”
George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”
Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”
George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”
“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”
“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.
George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”
“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”
He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”
“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”
George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”
A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”
George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.
“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”
Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”
“You really need to stop calling me that.”
“Nah. It’s funny.”
Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”
George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”
“Good luck, Gog—”
It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.
Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
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George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.
It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long. 
Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.
I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.
That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.
You suck, he thought.
The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.
His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.
GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?
The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.
[y/n] is typing...
His heart leapt into his throat.
[y/n]: okay!
He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.
“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.
“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.
“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”
Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”
He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”
Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.
“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”
George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.
“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”
You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”
He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”
Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.
It’s now or never.
“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”
He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”
He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear. 
I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—
“I like you, too.”
His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.
Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.
He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.
“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.
You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins. 
Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.
“I like you a lot lot, too.”
He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?
Your grin widened. “Yes.”
For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.
A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now? 
Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.
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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years
Text
Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)
Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.
Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside
Main Masterlist
A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.
Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.
Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.
Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.
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Chapter 2: Just My Type
It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.
After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.
Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.
One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.
You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.
When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.
Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.
It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.
Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.
To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.
When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.
You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.
He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.
“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.
“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.
“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.
“He’s a widower.”
His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”
Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.
“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.
“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.
“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.
“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.
“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.
“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.
He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”
You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”
“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”
Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.
“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”
“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.
“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.
The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.
‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’
Aiden was right.
Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.
You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.
Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.
You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.
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That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.
Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.
The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.
Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.
As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    
Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.
As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.
~
I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers
                                                                                            ~
You stilled as you read it over and over again.
An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.
All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.
Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.
That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!
You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.
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 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.
While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.
“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.
“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.
You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.
In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.
You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.
“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”
You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.
You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.
He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.
As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.
“You look stunning.”
You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.
“Thank you.”
“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.
The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.
Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.
He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.
Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.
You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.
You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.
You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.
You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.
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Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.
Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.
This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.
When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.
“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.
Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”
“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.��� His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”
That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.
“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”
“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.
The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.
Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.
His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.
When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.
Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.
The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.
You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?
Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.
“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”
Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.
“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.
You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.
When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.
“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.
Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.
She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.
“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.
“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.
“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”
Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.
“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”
She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”
You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.
Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”
“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.
“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.
Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.
As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.
“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”
His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.
“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.
He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  
The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.
His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.
You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.
He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.
Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.
He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.
When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.
He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”
“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.
“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”
You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.
They never came.
Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.
“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.
You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.
Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.
Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.
A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.
‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’
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tarosin · 3 years
Text
the great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and wilbur - racing across the sea
requested: yes/no
part 8 of the great adventures series
warning: cursing, anxiety about the sea
ever since the argument you and tubbo had become inseparable, he practically lived with you and your parents at this point, and your community was loving it. everytime one of you would stream, tens of thousands of people would tune into your stream to see what madness was going on and today was no different. the pair of you decided to stream a laugh and the stream ends challenge. safe to say you ended up changing the rules several times, you even made ranboo join the stream so you could have extra lives. not long after the stream ended you, ranboo, and tubbo practically dominated the twitter trending page. today however was tubbos last day at yours and shortly after you ended stream, the pair of you headed out to the train station so you could make sure your best friend made it onto the train safely. after you said your goodbyes, you decided to facetime jack on your way home to discuss vlog ideas, and just to talk to him, as you had been rather busy this past week going over plans with ranboo, tubbo, and all of your parents about the uk trip that was happening pretty soon.
a few days later, it was finally time to go film the vlog. you couldn’t exactly lie, you weren’t exactly looking forward to this, as you were told it had something to do with the sea and boats which oddly enough didn’t mix very well with your fear of the deep sea. you had no idea what’s down there and you didn’t want to find out, but hey at least you’d be with tubbo.
your parents offered to drive you there so you didnt have any additional stress from having to get a train then a taxi, this allowed you to have a pretty quiet journey to meet up with your friends. you sat in the back of the car on facetime with tommy who was the only one who knew about your fear and was rather confused as the why you would agree to do such a thing
“i’ll never understand what goes through your mind, you’ve got this though! you’re going to be completely okay, plus you never know it might help you get over your fear, you did tell me you had been working on getting over it.”
“I suppose you’re right, it can’t be too bad. I mean I love the sea. I just don’t like what’s deep down, you feel me?”
“i understand mate, but you need to remember jack wouldn’t put you in danger. as much as he acts like he would, and even if you do fall off the boat or some how end up in the water, you won’t automatically end up at the bottom of the sea. just try to enjoy yourself, yeah?”
“...yeah”
“call me when you get home you can tell me all about what happened, afterwards we can record a minecraft mod video.”
“of course, boss man.”
“you hang out with tubbo too much, you should hang out with me a lot more.”
the car pulled into the car park and within a minute of the car stopping tubbo was at the window shouting your name.
“right tommy, i should probably go, ill see you later bud!”
you said goodbye to your parents as tubbo opened your car door for you.
“what a gentleman, thank you, tubbo.”
“anything for you, now let’s go. jack began filming the intro and i really want the hat hes wearing.”
“you’re ridiculous.”
he stood with his arms crossed shaking his head, pretending to be offended before walking off with you not far behind him.
you stood with niki and wilbur as tubbo went off filming some of the intro with jack. the three of you stood talking about how you have all been and discussing more plans for your meetup.
“y/n, go control your friend, he’s stealing a hat!”
you ran up behind tubbo and stole the hat from him, putting it on your own head.
“why have you got the hat now?”
“i am now captain!”
“but i wanted to be captain!”
you and tubbo stood arguing back and forth over who was captain, ignoring jack trying to get the pair of you to stop.
“you have 5 seconds to stop arguing or you’re being separated 5...4...3...2...1 right.”
“jack no!”
jack pulled you aside claiming he has something really important to ask you.
“so did you bring something valuable?”
“yeah i did actually, i brought tubbo and the necklace tommy gave me for my birthday last year.”
tubbo overhearing the conversation walked over telling you both that he also brought a valuable item, in fact it was a family heirloom.
“i brought an urn.”
“why would you do that tubbo? what the fuck-“
“you two do realise if either of you lose it had to go in the sea?”
“poor grandma.”
“aye about that you will have to pry that necklace out of my hands in order to throw it in the sea!”
the three of you went up to wilbur and niki where wilbur stole the hat you stole from tubbo, and you were told that you were all about to race to the isle of wight.
it was unfortunately time to board the boat, you sat next to tubbo, so that you felt like you had some sort of control with what was about to happen. the others sat making jokes about what was going on whilst you were trying to get control of your breathing. as you all set sail, you thought you were doing a good job of hiding the fact you were potentially about to have a panic attack as no one seemed to notice, or so you thought. considering the fact tubbo was your best friend, he instantly noticed something was wrong and wrapped an arm around you, and decided that distracting you would be a lot better than making you focus on what was currently happening.
“hey y/n, i have an amazing idea for when ranboos in the uk. a 4 month sleep over.”
“heh?”
before you had time to fully process what was going on, all you could hear was wilbur now claiming to be captain then going on to tell you why portsmouth is called portsmouth. you couldnt help but laugh at the random things he was coming up with since he put the captains hat on.
“that is a cinema..i’ve been in this industry for a while now, isn’t that right?”
it was silent for a while until niki tried to steal the captains hat, but was unfortunately unsuccessful .
“maybe next time niki.”
“thank you for believing in me, y/n.”
you pointed out a castle which ended up with wilbur talking about how the planned executions there .
“are they dead?”
“...tubbo of course they’re dead. what kind of question was that?”
the other boat began getting closer to the boat you were all currently in, indicating that it was almost time for you all to split up into two groups.
“my boat is going much faster.”
“that is a sign of pollution.”
“wow jack you’re polluting the world, i hope you’re happy!”
the ride was pretty chill until jack asked what he had lost in the past.
“past relationships.”
“the love or host.”
“laugh you lose streams.”
“the waterslide races from when we went to the water park.”
you and tubbo continued listening things that jack had lost.
“okay. so i’ve lost a few things.”
jack looked towards the other boat.
“however, you two are about to lose each other.”
“excuse you?”
“no, y/n is mine!”
eventually wilbur had enough and picked tubbo up and took him to the other boat with him.
“TUBBO!”
“Y/N!”
you and niki sat laughing as jack and wilbur bickered about who was going to win the boat race. whilst jack was distracted, you felt niki tap your arm and told you to look over to the other boat where tubbo was reaching his arm out to you so you could quickly swap boats.
you quickly got into the boat and sat next to your best friend, tubbo knew you were still slightly nervous, so made it so you would be sat in between him and wilbur so you would feel a lot more comfortable. a few minutes later, your boat began to set off and all you could hear was a mixture of tubbos laughter and jacks yelling getting quieter the further you went.
“AY THEY CANT START WITHOUT US!. AND THEY GOT Y/N, WHEN DID THEY GET THEM?!”
you turned to face wilbur who pointed towards a building before announcing that it definitely belonged to the the three of you, and was renaming it reddit gold.
“reddit..reddit gold, are you serious?” you said through your laughter, the three of you sat together taking turns narrating what was happening .
“go on, y/n.”
“if this capsizes, were all drowning.”
“cheerful as awful.”
“do you think sharks are beneath us?”
“i’m not even answering that question.”
you looked over your shoulder to see that niki and jack were catching up to you all.
“i hope they don’t overtake us, otherwise it’s bye bye tubbo.”
“and grandma.”
“excuse you, tubbo?”
“he’s claiming that he brought an urn with him and if we lose our valuable item gets chucked into the sea.”
a little while later jacks boat was next to yours and you and wilbur started to shout how it was like romeo and juliet.
“y/n, you studied this at gcse a while back, yell some quotes.”
“tubbo i didn’t listen to the teachers.”
“do it!”
“no!”
wilbur continued to talk to the others whilst you and tubbo sat bickering about William Shakespeare .
“tubbo my favourite character was benvolio and he fucked off halfway through.”
“what do you mean he fucked off?”
“he literally disappeared.”
wilbur was genuinely questioning what he was listening to he slowly turned around and tried to catch your attention; however you were currently in the middle of a debate about why benvolio disappeared, which was that last thing you expected to be doing on the boat. eventually your debate died down and you looked up to see wilbur shaking his head at you both, clearly confused as to why you spent 5 minutes arguing about romeo and juliet. an idea came to wilburs mind as he started laughing and pointing at the sea.
“drink some seawater, tubbo.”
you looked away as tubbo reached into the water trying to hold as much water as he could before bringing it to his lips and drinking the seawater.
“tubbo did you really just-“
“more tubbo!”
tubbo did the same as before, however this time brought his hands towards your face.
“drink it, y/n!”
“yeah, y/n, you can help desalinate it.”
“how wonderful, i’ll pass though.”
tubbo looked at you pretending to be upset and lifted his hands towards you again, this time you gave in and drank some of the water.
“thanks, tubbo, I can now only taste salt.”
jack noticed what you and tubbo were doing and looked at wilbur confused.
“im making them drink seawater!”
“what’s it like?”
“potassium!”
“salt.. a lot of salt!”
you checked your phone as you kept receiving multiple messages from tommy trying to get your attention, forgetting that you were currently on a boat with the others. you looked up from your phone to see tubbo drinking more seawater.
“AGAIN?”
you had no idea what was going on for jack and niki, but it sounded a lot like they lost hope as jack yelled asking if there was room for him on the boat while tubbo sat flipping him off in response to his question. jack continued to yell at the three of you however none of you could hear what he was yelling, so you kind of sat just nodding your head in agreement to what he was saying. wilbur pointed out that he could see the finishing line and how it looked like you were all going to make it. you looked over to see jack and niki recreating that one scene from titanic tubbo looked at you smiling, trying not to laugh.
“absolutely not one of us, if not both of us, would end up in the sea.”
the boat began to go significantly faster. at the start you were unsure how to feel, however a few minutes into it you began laughing enjoying how fast you were going.
“woahhh we’re turning!”
the boat did a loop before going straight on as fast as it could go.
“y/n, tubbo, we’re going. we’re going.”
“OH MY GOD!”
you ended up passing another boat you and tubbo instantly waved to everyone on the boat a few people waved back .
“they don’t wanna wave.”
“they know their boat is bigger than ours.”
“they could easily ram us and kill us all.”
“hopefully they decide against doing that.”
the boat began weaving resulting in you, tubbo, and wilbur constantly crashing into each other, not that any of you cared you were all having the time of your lives. you pointed at a boat which was cutting off the boat jack and niki were in .
“we’ve got this in the bag boys, victory is ours!”
your boat slowed down so it could dock.
“i think we’ve won!”
“we won”!
“holy shit we won! tubbo doesn’t have to go in the sea now!”
everyone got out of the boat so you could all wait for jack and niki to reach the dock, as the two of them approached you all tubbo began to sing.
“we are the champions my friend!”
“STOP IT!”
“i have to go into the fucking water!”
you pulled niki into a hug.
“jack you cruel man.”
“did you not have fun niki..we had a great time.”
you let go of niki and stood behind tubbo placing your head on his shoulder whilst jack explained to wilbur what was going to happen if they lost.
“oh, I thought we got to decide who was thrown into the water.”
“no no no no no no!”
“well i think considering we won..”
after a small discussion as a team, you all instantly agreed that jack should be thrown into the water, you all stood on the boat as niki argued that he cant throw her into the water. a couple seconds later wilbur walks towards jack handing him the camera before picking him up.
“are you ready?”
“i don’t think the bits that funny will, i don’t think the bits that funny!”
you all screamed and laughed as jack was thrown into the water. jack complained about the temperature of the sea as he climbed back onto the boat only to be pushed off again by you and tubbo.
“that’s revenge for trying to put us on separate boats!”
you spent the rest of the day together just hanging together as a group before you said your goodbyes.
the ride back home was you excitedly explaining what your boat ride was like to your parents, once you got home you ran upstairs to your room then called tommy on discord
“how was it then?”
“tommy it was so cool, honestly i wish you could have come with us.”
“i mean you’re coming with me george and wilbur to a water course next week, you don’t have a choice.”
“oh okay, it’s a good job i’d love to be there then, tom, also what mod are we playing just so i can check i have it ready.”
“rlcraft.”
the two of you spent a good hour talking before getting ready to film a video with charlie and jschlatt for tommys youtube channel.
taglist:
@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @c1loudee
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jxmieoleksiaks · 3 years
Text
Paradise -> Mat Barzal
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This is for @antoineroussel​ ‘s summer fic exchange! I had the lovely, and awesome @texanstarslove   I was so excited when I found out I had you, but wanted to wait until the season ended, though I know just like me, you didn’t need a repeat of last year. I think your writing is amazing, and I’ll never forget you randomly boosted me, and I’ve gained a lot of followers since then. I really hope you enjoy. I’m also so sorry this took so long 💚
Word Count: 2,390 Smut: Mentions Language: Yes
It was like deja vu. The team had lost again, to the same team, in the same round, for the second year in a row. This time though, it stung a little more, as their were fans, and they were in Tampa. It didn’t help the players were making fun of the guys getting a little emotional. You were too, and not only because you were heartbroken about the loss, it was your boyfriend Mat. He worked his butt off all season, and off season to stay in shape, and be best for his team. You knew he would get emotional, and he did, the first night after the loss, being the toughest. He was proud of him and his teammates, and vowed to make sure this didn’t happen again.
Mat was one of the toughest guys you knew. From the random night you met him at the bar, to when he had the two black eyes in last years playoffs, literally nothing stopped him. The idea of love never existed in your mind. Seeing your parents loveless marriage and hoping one day they would divorce and you could live with your mother, made you think that actual love never existed. But with Mat it was easy, you two could have nights out, and nights in and have the same amount of fun, you could see a future with him, but you were not in any rush for major things to happen.
It was now July, and you two had decided to take a vacation, a much needed one in fact. With last years bubble, and this years crazy season, he needed a vacation just as much as you did, someone who worked 40 hours a week, and also had to log in some on the weekend.
“Okay, where should we go?” You asked Mat, who was reclined at the end of the couch, while your legs were across his waist, laying on the couch, with your laptop sitting on you with vacation websites on.
“Somewhere warm?” He questioned, as he was watching the NBA finals.
‘That narrows it down a bit.” You laughed.
“You know what I mean!” He laughed back. “No where that’s like, not beach like, does that help?” He asked, taking a drink of the beer he was drinking.
“Yes, thanks.” You shook your head and started to google places you two could go.
As much as you loved Disney, and wanted to go there, you two needed some private time, and that was not the place for it. You looked a couple more places, and gasped at the website you were on.
“Look at this!” You exclaimed and sat up.
He looked to his left and noticed a vacation website for a resort in the Maldives. There were resorts. and private villa’s, and as you saw on your many hours of Tik Tok scrolling, it was pretty affordable.
“Oh that looks really cool.” He nodded, grabbing the MacBook from you to look around.
“It’s perfect, I heard it’s pretty adorable too.”
“Babe, that shouldn’t be the deciding factor, I can afford to take you to somewhere you really wanna go.” He said seriously. You did appreciate that about him, but in the back of your mind, you didn’t want people to think you were using him for his money, which was not the case whatsoever. You loved him for him, and you were just someone who worked and cheered on your boyfriend.
“Yeah, but I wanna go here!” You smiled. “Let me and a cool resort, and then we can think about booking it.” You smiled as you got off the couch quickly to grab a glass of wine, loving the fact you were about to book a romantic and fun vacation.
The trip was booked about three hours later, and in two weeks you would be heading to an island paradise. You never flew across the ocean before, so that part. made you nervous, but you couldn’t be more excited to finally get some peace and quiet with Mat.
You and Mat were now sitting at the gate in JFK, getting ready to catch the first flight, which landed in Dubai. You had an iced latte in your hand, which made the nerves you were having a little bit worse. Along with never flying across the ocean, you’ve never had a 19 hour flight before, and that was nerve-racking to you.
“Babe, are you okay?” He asked you, sounding concerned.
“Yeah, I think it’s the flight that makes me nervous.” You said, before taking a sip of the coffee.
“It’s gonna be alright, I promise, plus we have first class, and that should make things a little more comfortable. If you feel uneasy, just lean on me.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head, making your mind ease, and heart feel warm with love.
Movies, laughs, and naps made the flight, and it’s connecting in Dubai, made it so much easier to do, and now you two were on a boat with other couples, and three families to make their way to the resort. When the two of you checked in, and headed to your bungalow, you felt like you could cry. The water was a type of blue you had only seen in movies. The sky, was something out of a book, that you could imagine with your eyes closed. It was perfect.
“Holy shit, you gotta see this patio!” Mat said as he was walking around the place you were staying the next week. You walked outside and saw a private deck, with some chairs, but also a swing. You just imagined watching the sunset with the both of you on the swing.
“I don’t know how I was able to find this place and pull it off so easy. This is a literal Oasis.” You said, your eyes almost bulging out of your head with how beautiful it was.
“Ah, well, the view is almost as beautiful as you.” He grinned.
“Mat, nothing is as beautiful as this view, shh.” You laughed and rolled your eyes, but you knew he meant those words.
You never purposely pushed his complements down, it’s just who you were.  You never really got complements before meeting him, so it was kind of..a reaction.  The first time he compared you to the beautiful full moon, one April night, you almost cried with laughter. You thought he was quoting a movie or something, but you could tell he really meant it. He knows that you’re going to shove them off, knowing that something that happens in nature, and in space is something amazing, but he really thought you hung the moon.
There was a little cafe in the main part of the resort, away from all the bungalows. You could get your morning cup of coffee, while eating breakfast and looking out at the views, and people watch too. It was the middle day of your trip, and you were already dreading of leaving, but didn’t want to think about that just yet. You two were going to do your own things today, he wanted to golf, and you wanted to check out the resort spa. You had gotten up before he did, and went over to the cafe, leaving him a note, since he didn’t wake up for anything, and kisses his forehead.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Mat questioned, as he sat down with a cup of coffee, already dressed for a day out on the green.
“I tried…You don’t wake up for shit!” You laughed. “If we were home, and the dog went missing, I would scream, you would snore.” A giggle left your mouth as he rolled his eyes, he knew it was true, and so did you.
“When we finish up, we can change and go out to the bar, that’s over the water.” He said, taking a sip of coffee.  
Your heart about fluttered, the views from the bar looked amazing, the bar after dark, over the ocean, thought you could do that in your bungalow, something about drinks around other people, and being so close to Mat, excited you to no end.
You and Mat planned on going to the bar when he cleaned up from his day of golf, but a nap called the both of you, and you two didn’t get there until after the sunset. You were a little bummed, until you saw the bar, and it’s area surrounded in hanging lights,
“Wow.” You sighed, after the waiter took the drink orders. “How does this place keep getting better…” You said, unable to believe you were here.
“I hope these drinks are good.” He chuckled, throwing your own feelings back to you.
“Oh, so now I get the shoved response?” You playfully rolled your eyes, before looking at the ocean in front of you.
The tequila sunrises and Screw Drivers the two of you were drinking, were really making you two feel really good.  You don’t remember when you decided to sit on Mat’s lap, but he was pretty comfortable, and was keeping a good grip on you.
“You know, you could stick your hand up my dress and no one would know.” You giggled, before taking the last sip of your tequila sunrise.
“There’s no one around?” He looked around.
“I..don’t think so, it’s dark, there could be people around us, but that’s more fun.” The alcohol was running through you,
“As much as I love that idea, and how I would love for you to just ride me, I think it would be better to do this in the room, no?” He asked, his lips against your neck.
You never had the idea of something pubic, but he was right, your private space was made for the adventures you two had in bed, and though you two were having a lot of fun doing that already, you always had time for more, and agreed.
“Let’s go back.” You whispered before you hopped off his lap.
He paid the bill and left a decent tip for the waiter, he did hear the both of you slightly slur and probably thought you two were up to something when you hopped on his lap. You grabbed Mat’s hand and headed back to the bungalow.
You were first into where you were staying, and he quickly picked you up after you set your bag down on the table. You giggled as he placed you on the bed and hovered over you.
“I don’t know how you do it, you just look so damn beautiful.” He whispered before he quickly pressed his lips onto yours. You wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you deeply, you two may have been a little tipsy, but you could feel the love in every kiss, and every movement after.
You two probably would have woke neighbors if you had any. The way Mat made you feel was something no on else had been able to do. With the couple of years you two had been together, he knew where to touch you, how to do it, and what to do, to make you come undone in a matter of moments. A lot of people would say men don’t care that their woman didn’t cum, but he did, and he made sure you did every time.
You let out a load moan, and released as Mat groaned. After a moment of staying connected, he pulled out, and after you ran to the bathroom, you two were now laying in bed, bare and the moon shining into your room.
“This trip has been perfect so far.” You sighed quietly, as you set your head on his chest.
“You did good babe, I have to admit it.” He chuckled as he played with your hair.
“Is it bad I had no idea where this place was until I had to google it?” You asked, not being the best with geography, but honestly not knowing where it was.
“You really think I knew where this place is, babe….” He said, knowing he wasn’t that great with geography either.
“Fuck what happens if we get on the wrong flight or something?!” You asked.
“Siri will help us, because we can’t help our way around a map. I’m not the leader in any of these hockey trips for a reason.” He shook his head, and you covered your face trying not to laugh so hard.
“Listen, I know the last couple of seasons didn’t go as planned, but I don’t know if I could be more proud of you, you just…work so hard, and I see it, and I hope others do too. If you go to the Olympics, and they let family in, I’m screaming my ass off for team Canada.” You said, meaning every single word.
“I like heading that from the guys, but babe, you know it means so much coming from you.” He said. “And trust me, if I even make the Olympic team, I’d love to have you there. You’d be screaming the loudest, and probably freak out some of the others, and I want nothing more than that.” He started to laugh more.
Even with your normal type job, you wanted to be there for him as much as you could. You had even worked remotely to support him in the playoffs, and knowing he would do the same for you if he had the chance meant so much. You knew he was the one, even though you two were a little busy to think about the M word, you knew, when you both were ready, you would be the one, that he would ask, you, and you would say yes.
“Babe?” He asked you.
“What’s up?” You were a little nervous, he sounded a little unsure of himself.
“You’re gonna plan our next vacation when we get back, right? You’ve done great with this one, and now I need you to plan everything.”
You hid your face in his chest, and started laughing again.
“I love you.” You told him.
“I love you too babe, he kissed the top of your head, something you always wanted him to do, and it brought you comfort, the feeling that you had right at this moment.
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kurohoely · 3 years
Text
mask (sakusa x y/n)
What happens when Sakusa realizes masks are better off than on?
genre: hurt/comfort, sakusa is in time skip!
wc: 2.2k
It was known that Sakusa is reserved, he only shows his most relaxed self to those who he trusts, which includes you. He can show those random, whacky emotions, teasing you and giving some gen z emojis but being open and vulnerable? That’s just not him.
You have been dating him for almost a few months now and a lot of people were surprised that you both actually worked out. The dynamic you both have was something people often quote as ‘not compatible’. You knew him before since you both have few classes together in college but who would’ve thought from those unintentional crossings lead you here. Sakusa’s character is pretty obvious and you kind of get it by now how he works and acts but was there any difference between before and now? Why does it feel like the walls are kept up, and builds higher than before?
You tried to initiate a lot of things. He does too but he was indeed more awkward, baby steps as you call it. Despite all that, you appreciate him, all the things he did were definitely out of his comfort zone. You kept saying to yourself that he's trying, remembering that he was the one that confessed first. You hold onto that memory in hope that it will be dynamic throughout the relationship.
But how about right now? With the new season up and running, you kept seeing less and less of him. Countless lonely dinners and cold bedsheets. Rescheduled dates and missing out on one another. You almost excused Sakusa for forgetting your anniversary, thinking it was a given. You signed up to be with someone that has no constant rhythm in their life, always the next big thing to keep their lives afloat. Again, you put on another layer, masking away, reasoning to yourself that things will work out. You don't want to bother him, let alone be the reason why he is stressing out. Patience has always been a good nature of you but sometimes, you question if you should stop being selfless and start being selfish. He is your boyfriend after all.
Sakusa noticed the subtle changes that happened. He felt that you were perfect. Too perfect, as a matter of fact. He wanted to sit down and try to understand why and where this was coming from because he definitely didn't confess to you for perfection. He wanted you. Not any other version. Pure and transparent. No mask. But as much as he wanted to, it is still out of his nature, and with the season starting, it will be quite some time before he can bring this again.
Mid through the season, work is piling up, matches are getting tougher each time they win. That’s a given. You came to almost all of his games and have them recorded on tv. Whatever the outcome, you will always be proud of him. He was basking in his prime condition; you were there for him and his plays were getting synchronized with the team at a rate that even the coach was surprised. He left the thought at the back of his mind, focusing on what he has to do first. After each match, you both have this little ritual, spending some alone time together starting with dinner as both of your schedules sometimes don't overlap quite nicely. Sakusa told you about his plays as if you weren’t there to witness it all and you can’t blame him. You love seeing the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about how good it felt when spiking. The conversation flows naturally and you both talked about how your days went. You were both walking diaries of each other. Not until Sakusa flipped a page that has been long overdue.
He cussed himself to have the audacity to forget about this issue. He doesn’t like this. It was as if he’s taking advantage of your facade, your mask. Even though Sakusa tells you many times that you need to wear one physically, this was something that he wished to be stripped off completely. He hates it. He hates that he can't be a safe space for you. Someone you can let yourself breathe from the suffocating expectations from the outside world. But what he hates the most is that you changed yourself to accommodate his own ignorance.
Sakusa flipped his match schedule. It looks like there won't be another match in 5 days. He called Meian and Iwaizumi if it’s okay if he takes a few days off from practice. Both of them were surprised that Sakusa would even ask for a day off but they agreed anyway. He’s not the type to ask for one so this must be something really important.
Saturday shifts are hard. You only have one day of rest before hustling again on Monday but oh you were SO GLAD that your manager said that you can have a paid leave on Monday after helping out on a side project for some other team.
You pushed your shared apartment door, dragging your feet inside. You saw Sakusa peek his head from the kitchen. He took off his apron and walked to you, grabbing your bags from the floor and giving a peck on your cheek. You went to the bedroom and saw the bath bomb that you bought impulsively on your previous date. A bath sounds nice, you thought to yourself.
Filling up the bath to a slightly hotter temperature, a much-needed one to shake that fatigue out from your body and start your long weekend with a fresher body. Gently dipping your toes, you hold the sides and lower yourself in, letting the heat seep into your skin. As you were shuffling your position, a knock on the bathroom door.
“Can I come in?”
“Doors unlocked so yeah baby come in”
Sakusa twisted the knob, letting himself in. He sat on the floor next to the tub, a rare sight for Sakusa and you. He folded his arms on the dry part of the tub and stared into your eyes. Losing himself in your mind, finding where he actually belongs. He knows this isn’t the right time, not even a good one, to bring up this matter but it has been pushed back for too long, he couldn’t care less about what setting it was in right now. You were always firm on your stands, confronting those to have the middle ground in everything but now, it was as if he’s with someone else.
“Hey sunshine, how's the bath”
You flushed at the pet name he called you. When was the last time you heard that softness, that warmth? The sense of home and belonging to another person, solely wanting to give your whole life away in exchange for his.
“It's pretty nice. Do you wanna join in?”
“Hmm sounds nice.”
He removes his mask and strips quickly, submerging himself into the tub in front of you. He pressed his muscular, toned back to your chest, taking its warmth into his body. Taking in whatever he could take from you between his skin and yours. Your scent, your heat, your touch, the friction, sensation - everything. He knows he wants everything but how about you? He sometimes thinks that he forced you into the relationship, going above and beyond to go with how he handles things. His fussy attitude when it comes to cleaning, being in crowds, and towards people in general. Whatever the train of thought was, he needs to know, He can’t bear seeing his future bland and monotonous because you were not there. You were his yellow, heck, you were his entire spectrum.
“Hey y/n, I know it's not a good time to ask this but, did I do something that makes you uncomfortable? I know I’m not good with words or being affectionate, doing all those sweet things that you see in movies but the last thing I want you to be is forcing yourself to be something that you are not.
“If there’s anything wrong that I did please tell me I…”.
“No! You did nothing wrong. You were perfect but maybe too perfect. I have this feeling that you weren't being yourself for quite some time. It's like you have this mask that you put on whenever you are with me. I know you are sensitive in nature - both to other people and towards yourself, which is why I fell in love with but aren't relationships supposed to be a two-way thing? I need to know what’s bothering you so please talk to me. I want you to feel safe with me. I want you to be your most comfortable as if both of us are the only ones that are living on this earth. I wish I could come and talk to you sooner about this but I got too caught up in the games. It's my fault. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be braver on confronting things like these. I’ll try to be more attentive to the small things”
Hearing this from Sakusa made your heart burst into so many emotions that were buried for so long. Happy, sad, hopeless, desperation, anger, guilt but most importantly, longing. You could only cry when he finished his last words. You were gasping for air, clawing yourself into Sakusa’s shoulders to grip on whatever you can. Wet streams trickled down Sakusa’s nape, dampening them. Sakusa was flustered as if it was the first time he ever saw you broke down. The first time? Oh God, how much has he been missing in this relationship...
“I’m sorry Omi. I was trying to be understanding. I tried to make this home at least a space where you can have at least some peace. I wanted to be with you more so badly but I know by asking it, you have to take time off or you might just think I'm annoying. And I hate it. Words cut more for me since it is the least effort to bring out but weighs the most. I don't think I can bear with it. So I avoided it. I avoid creating any chances that would lead us to fight. But then, it hit me when you started to slip away, distancing yourself subtly. Our dinner time became shorter, we didn't even cuddle anymore because your muscles were sore and I want them to heal fast so you can play your best. It seems like it backfired huh?”
Sakusa was taken aback due to a lot of things. How he finally was able to hear you say his pet name, the range of small things that you do, putting him as your topmost priority when you yourself are buried down, succumbing to earth more and more. How could he be so blind? It hurts him. It hurts him that you didn't even consider being comfortable with him. It destroys him that all of your actions were threaded with the thoughts of him when he did nothing, even worse, he forgot. Sakusa felt a sting poking through his heart, thin-like rods thrusting through it slowly. He felt a burning sensation that he was sure he didn’t like. If he felt this after hearing all of these, what about you? You’ve been carrying these for weeks, stretching out to months, yet you’re still here. How did he end up with someone as thoughtful and wonderful as you? He turned his body around, facing you. Your legs tangling together, bringing you inside his embrace, pushing your foreheads together. He lets out a breath after his thoughts finally reach a verdict.
“Hey bub, it’s okay. We’re here now. I’m sorry it took my dumbass this long to have this conversation. You don’t know how much you meant to me even though I barely show it. Please know that at least. I love you. I love you so much, too much that I cannot imagine waking up the next day without you. You were the reason I can handle Atsumu’s ass, thinking about if I can go through that part of the day, I can see you again. A little reward from me to myself. I asked for a few days off, shall we do a bit of catching up session?”
A tint of coral pink brushes lightly on top of your cheeks. Seeing Sakusa being all vulnerable and open, is a view that you wish no one will ever see besides you. You smiled and chuckled lightly.
Sakusa's heart swells. There it is. The smile that got him smitten all over. The small chuckle that you made was a symphony to his ears. It was as if at this moment he fell in love again. He found the you that he fell for but even deeper. He swore that day he would never make you feel like this.
You both get out, drying yourself together. Omi blow-dried your hair and you did his. He's pretty good at managing your hair because of his curls. You both did a random 14-step Korean skincare routine and cuddling around watching your favorite movie - Pride and Prejudice. Sakusa never understood why you liked this movie so much but today he finally does. When two lovers placed down their masks and finally faced each other, all became visible. The adoration in one's eyes, longing for the warmth of the other, to finally be together.
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neo-shitty · 3 years
Text
all the muggle things. — c.s
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description. in which you and san spent the rest of your days after hogwarts getting the muggle experience.
pairings. slytherin!choi san x gender-neutral (wizard) reader (yes, this fic is house friendly)
genre. harry potter/hogwarts!au, fluff
warnings. mentions of injury. 
word count. 1.6k
writer’s notes. i don’t know why i never thought of writing a harry potter-inspired au before! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for ateez. i hope this didn’t turn out so bad! 
inspired by option #1 (roommates au) + prompt #36 from this list (given by @kathyrncapp835​)+ prompt #46 from @ficscafe​‘s dialogue prompt event (given by @meaningfulmess​). prompt lines are bolded.
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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  TERMINOLOGY GUIDE :: for the muggles, explained and simplified by yours truly
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Muggle - someone who isn’t able to use magic / non-wizard
Lumos - spell that makes the tip of a wizard’s wand light up
Quidditch - a game for wizards that involves flying on brooms and shooting balls through hoops, basically basketball but more complex because there are three hoops and someone’s trying to catch an ‘i-am-speed’ ball that dictates the fate of the game in the end
Sectumsempra - a spell that lacerates the opponent
Wizarding War - the war between Voldemort’s side and Harry’s
Dark Mark - Voldermort’s mark
Nox - counter spell to Lumos that switches the wand’s light off
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You tried your best to peer your eyes open when you heard the front door slam shut. You groaned, infuriated at how such simple tasks like breathing and opening your eyes required extra effort whenever you were sick. But getting sick was merely a consequence of your own actions, so you really didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself.  
You managed to open one eye, fighting back the heavy eyelid that threatened to shut and you searched the room for other movements besides your own. 
“It’s 2AM, go back to sleep,” a voice said. Soon, it’s owner emerged from the shadows of the doorway.
Dressed in his all-black work uniform was San. His whole figure blended into the background too well that it almost seemed like he’d apparated back to your place. But with the faint sound of his footfalls, you concluded that he used the muggle way in.
You turned your head. You considered turning your whole body but everything felt sore and heavy. Plus, you were content with the way the comforter was wrapped around you—which was rare, even on better days. You watched San pass by the living room before heading to the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see him from the living room couch, you could see the shadow casted on the floorboards by the kitchen light he switched on. It danced as he moved around, probably to get a late night snack before heading to bed. You could hear him uttering hushed incantations followed by the faint clattering of kitchen metals.
“I’m glad you didn’t burn the house down while I was gone,” he said from the kitchen.
A smile crept up to your lips at his statement. You opened your mouth to utter a small thank you but you could only manage a whisper. You weren’t even sure if he even heard it from that far.
Moments later, he reappeared by the kitchen doorway. “But you were cutting it a bit too close though,” he continued, clutching a frying pan in his right hand. 
The pan—originally gray—was now blackened from the mishap earlier. You had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking your own dinner, only waking up to the smell of burnt meat. The scent had been that thick that it managed to seep through your clogged nostrils. It was that bad. You ended up ordering take out instead. You forgot that you didn’t clean up the evidence.
A croaky laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the accident. San only shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen to put the pan back to the sink. When he came back, he had two cups in hand. He walked over to set both down on their respective coasters on the glass center table of your living room. When he reached over to turn the lights on you stopped him.
“Don’t turn the lights on,” you said, your voice barely audible but he hears it, stopping before the lamp fully on. “They’re too bright. It’ll give me another headache.”
You see his silhouette nod. You could hear him flipping his coat around, shuffling to find something. You didn’t know what he was searching for exactly and you opted to ask him. But you soon find out what it was when you hear him whisper.
“Lumos.”
Where San stood, an orb of light began to glow. You soon realized that the light came from the tip of a stick. He was holding the fir wand in his hand, controlling its brightness until it was just right. Soon, it illuminated the room with a faint light—bright enough for you to see outlines of the room and the furniture scattered but not bright enough to make your eyes water like the lamps did.
He walked over to where you were before leaving his hand outstretched. “Sit up to drink your leaf water,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.
“Leaf water,” you repeated in a hoarse voice before taking his hand in yours, clutching it as you helped yourself up. You crossed your legs, tucking each foot beneath the opposite leg in order to give room on the couch for San to sit. 
He handed you your cup of tea before he sat adjacent to you with his own cup in one hand and his wand in the other. Your eyes lingered on the wooden stick he gripped in his hand and on the fingers he had wrapped around it. All his rings were silver, representing the complementing color of his house, Slytherin. Or that was what you remembered of him back when you were still studying at Hogwarts.
You recalled when you used to watch him play Quidditch. He always kissed his rings first before putting on his gloves. He was deemed one of the more valuable players next to their seeker and you were just another student from another house. It wasn’t until your last school year at Hogwarts when you first interacted. The first time you both went beyond the occasional glances you shared whenever you were both in the same class. 
Though your first time meeting wasn’t the best setting for the start of something new.
You were tending to one injury after another, working with the school nurse to cater every student who ran to the infirmary for aid or additional support in the form of potions. San had walked in alone and upon catching sight of his green sigil, your first instinct was to cast a spell to disarm him. But he didn’t have his wand raised, nor did he show any indications that he was about to attack. Your guard was up; he was still a Slytherin and fighting for the opposing side.
But he was still a student of the school with a bleeding arm. The rip on his upper sleeve revealed enough of  his wound for your body to move on its own without much guidance. You led him to the nearest vacant bed, letting him standby until you got everything you needed from the cabinets. 
In the time you were treating the wound, you learned that it took him half the war and a Sectumsempra to the arm (which was originally aimed at his chest; thankfully he was able to dodge it—barely) to realize that he was fighting for the wrong side of the Wizarding War. He was glad he was going to sit out the rest of it and vowed to—and you quote—“Never do stupid shit again.”.
The Dark Mark was still tattooed on his arm, a permanent reminder of decisions that did more harm than good both to him and to the people around him. The tattoo faded over time as the population of evil wizards gradually decreased. 
Your brain was hot-wired to never trust a Slytherin. Or at least, it used to be. 
Much to your surprise, San did keep his words that night at the infirmary. He spent his years after Hogwarts atoning for all the damage he’d caused, dedicating nearly all his hours into hunting the last of the witches and wizards who still practiced the Dark Arts. 
San shifted beside you, leaning against the back of the couch before turning to look at you. He set his mug back down to its coaster before he pressed his palm against your forehead. 
“I’m feeling a bit better, don’t worry. I think I’ll be fine by morning.”
“I still don’t get why you let yourself be sick when you can just—” he flicked his wand, “—it away.” 
You set your own mug down after taking a sip, only noticing then that he pulled out the matching Hogwarts house coasters. His furrowed expression softened when you held his hand, peeling it off your forehead before sandwiching it between your cold ones.
“I’m trying to experience muggle living,” you answered. 
Slytherins normally weren’t the type who liked involving themselves with muggle things, more so with the muggle way of living. But San wasn’t always like other Slytherins. Cheesy, you thought. But it was a fact.
You held his stare when his eyes landed on yours. You knew his mind was brewing some sort of egoistic line or anything short yet clever to say. But you were faster.
“You did well today,” you told him, drawing random shapes and symbols on the back of his palm.
Even after hearing it everyday for the past few years, San’s heart still warmed upon hearing the words leave your lips. 
You said it the first time at the infirmary. At first, you were unsure if you were saying it to yourself as he heard you utter it after you patched him up. Later that day, you reassured him that it was meant for him. San, at the time, wasn’t too keen on accepting it. Nothing about what he did that day was worth the praise. But he soon realized you were referring to his decision to right his mistakes instead of staying ignorant.
You haven’t stopped saying it since then. The phrase became more of a part of your routine over time but it still held the same value as the first time you ever said it. You still smiled softly after saying it and you still looked at him fondly like you were genuinely proud of it. San was trained to easily catch  whenever people lied—be it in the form of speaking or in acting. But he never found any trace of ingenuity whenever it came to you. 
Somehow, that was enough to convince him that he could still make up for mistakes made in the past. It wasn’t too late yet. 
You catch the moment the corner of his lips curved up into a smile. One sly finger up, you were ready to—once again—poke the dimple on the side of his mouth.
He hated that. But if he were to be honest, he could never really hate anything you did. One ‘Nox’ and a flick of his wand later, the light on the tip of his wand disappeared—plunging the both of you into complete darkness before your finger could even touch his skin.
“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath, drawing your hand back and crossing them over your chest.
You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you could tell the smirk from his tone, “Of course you do.”
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© neo-shitty, 2021
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