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#honor is little comfort to a man alone in his home and in his heart!!!
firstroseofspring · 7 months
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edna st. vincent mallay, love is not all
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queers-gambit · 6 months
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Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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yanderelionwrites · 8 months
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Trick or Treat (Male!Yandere x Reader)
A Halloween one-shot for spooky season 🎃 I didn't want it to be too long so it's a little rushed, but here it is. Enjoy!
Content Warning: yandere, breaking and entering, assault/grabbing, manipulation
Word Count: 1.9k
“Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the party with us? I have a spare costume you could borrow that I know you would look great in!” Your roommate asked, adjusting the faux dog ears that were sitting atop her head as she walked into the kitchen.
You pulled a candy bowl out of the cupboard, dumping the sweet treats you had bought earlier today and filling it up to the brim. You smiled politely at her, but shook your head.
“Nah, I’m good. You know parties aren’t really my thing. Besides, somebody’s gotta watch over the house to make sure it doesn’t get TP’d or egged or whatever.”
“Still, though, I feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“You sound like such a mom, Mallory,” Your other roommate, Tristan, snarked, coming down the stairs clad in a black cat costume. “(Name)’s been home alone plenty of times before. They’re not a kid.”
“I know, but it’s Halloween! The holiday just makes being alone feel more scary…”
“I’ll be fine, Mal,” You sighed, though you were still grateful for her concern. 
“We should probably get going now,” Tristan said, checking his phone. “Come on, Mal, let’s go,” Tristan grabbed ahold of her wrist, dragging her out the front door. “Don’t have too much fun without us, alright?” He winked at you.
“Bye, (Name)! We’ll probably be back around midnight! Call us if you need anything!”
After waving them goodbye, you took a small table and placed the candy bowl on top, leaving it out front with a “take two” sign. You had only bought one bag so if it ran out, it ran out. Locking the door behind you, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, excitement coursing through your body. You loved your roommates, but there was just something about having the whole house to yourself that made you giddy. A true introvert at heart.
Plopping down on your bed, you turned on your TV, scrolling through streaming sites to decide what to watch. In honor of the holiday, you naturally chose a horror movie, something you’ve never seen before but heard good things about. Cuddling up with your favorite plush, you get comfortable as the film starts, ready to experience the same dread and terror alongside the main characters.
That feeling never came however, because you quickly fell asleep not even 30 minutes into the movie. An hour had gone by by the time you woke up, with the credits rolling and the obnoxious sound of the doorbell going off. You stuffed your face into the blanket you were wrapped up in, hoping and waiting for the visitor to go away. The candy bowl was probably empty and some greedy brat was outside demanding for more.
You were forced to jump out of bed and stomp down the stairs when the ringing only continued, followed by loud knocking. Damn entitled kids. You thought bitterly, undoing the locks and yanking the front door back without even checking who was outside first.
“Look, I don’t got any more candy, so just-” You barked, but stopped mid-sentence when you were met with a tall figure dressed head to toe in black clothes. He had a hood covering his eyes, with a mask obscuring his nose and mouth. He stood eerily still, staying completely silent, only the sound of his heavy breathing being heard. It felt like an eternity before he said, “...Trick or Treat.”
Your eyes widen, backing up a bit and closing the door enough to shield yourself from him. You definitely were not expecting a grown-ass man to be outside your door asking for treats. Chuckling awkwardly, you stutter, “U-Uhm, sorry…we unfortunately ran out of candy…”
“Darn…that’s too bad,” The man’s voice was husky, but muffled by his mask. “I was really looking forward to having something sweet tonight,” He flipped his hood off before pulling his mask down, giving you a hungry look. “You’re wrong, though. The sweetest piece of candy is standing right in front of me. I could just devour you in one bite.“
Slamming the door shut, you quickly locked it again, disgust and slight fear taking over you. The audacity he had to just start flirting with you was downright deplorable, the creepiness of it all causing your hair to stand on end. Maybe this could be a prank? A stupid Halloween scare that would rack up millions of views online, with poor you being one of the unfortunate victims. 
Yeah, that’s probably what it was. You wouldn’t expect any less from this neighborhood, after all. Your heart was still pounding as you tried to convince yourself that it was just a joke, however, and you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink. A glass of water was needed to calm your nerves.
After gulping down the cool liquid, you searched for a snack to chow down on. Hopefully if you eat something while watching your movie, you won’t fall asleep this time. Deciding on microwave popcorn, you popped a bag in and waited for it to be ready. 
Only a few seconds went by when you heard tapping on a window. It was coming from the sliding glass door that led out into the backyard. At first, you wanted to believe you were just hearing things, but the next taps were louder and incessant. The last thing you wanted to do was investigate, having had enough fright for one night, so you stayed where you were.
Good thing you did, because immediately after the tapping stopped, came a loud crash. You screamed, watching in horror as you witnessed a brick fly through the glass door, shattering it to pieces. Reflexively, you quickly grabbed a knife from the knife block, just in time to see the man from before casually stalking into your home. He turned to you, an eerie grin on his face as he approached. You pointed your weapon towards him, making sure he kept his distance.
“Stay the hell away! The fuck’s your problem, why are you breaking into my house?!” You shouted, putting on your nastiest glare.
He cocked his head to the side, as if he couldn’t understand why you were angry. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for my candy,” He said matter-of-factly. Smirking, he curled his pointer finger at you. “So put that silly thing down and c’mere.”
“You’re insane! Get the fuck out of my house!”
“So rude,” The man huffed, pouting like a child as if this was all a game to him. “Well, if you’re not going to give me my treat, I’ll just have to give you a trick. That’s how this works, hm?”
Before you could even process his words, he lunged forward, twisting the knife out of your hands with ease. He was stronger than he looked, and within a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the counter. You winced as your stomach dug into the marble surface, and you desperately tried to move your hands from out underneath his iron grip. They wouldn’t budge.
“Don’t struggle too hard, darling. It’ll make this easier for the both of us,” The man breathed into your ear. Chuckling, he added, “You’re cute when you’re scared, you know. God, I can’t wait to taste you.”
Your fear only worsened at that, struggling even harder even though it was useless. “W-Why are you doing this? Who even are you?” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“Who I am doesn’t matter right now. And maybe you’ll find out why this is happening to you if you do some digging later. A little detective work, if you will.”
What the hell does that mean? You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, though, because the man was pressing into you even closer now. You squealed when he dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, anger getting ready to burst when he only laughed at your reaction.
“Get off me, creep!” You snarled, and you actually managed to jerk your arm back and elbow him in the stomach. Hissing, his grip loosened, allowing you to push him off. He stumbled back, and while he was vulnerable, you promptly kicked him in the groin. The intruder yelped in pain as he fell to the floor. You took this chance to run, practically throwing yourself at the front door and fumbling with the locks so you could get the hell out of there.
“Yeah, you better run…while you still can…” The man groaned, but his threats hardly fazed you considering he was just a pathetic heap on the ground now.
Flinging open the door, you sprinted out of the house, planning to find safety with one of your neighbors. You couldn’t get far, however, as you ran into someone quite familiar.
“Tristan?” You panted, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath while looking up at your worried roommate.
“(Name)? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to try and comfort you. “What are you doing out here?”
You sucked in a few more breaths before explaining the situation to him. “There…someone….some guy broke into the house… He was after me…he tried…tried…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, it was too terrifying to relive. 
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” Tristan hushed you, pulling you into a surprising embrace. It was something you never expected from him, but you returned the gesture anyway.
“He’s still in the house, Tristan… We need to call the cops and get away from here,” You pulled away from the hug, eyes now focused back on the house. “I left my phone in my room, so can you call them?”
“Yeah, I will,” He nodded, whipping out his phone to start dialing. “Let’s go back to my car and stay there until they arrive, okay?”
The two of you made yourselves comfortable in the warm car, and you listened intently as Tristan called 911. After he hung up, he told you that they were on their way and would be there as soon as possible. It was able to calm your beating heart only a little bit. There was a beat of silence between you two before you decided to speak up.
“So where’s Mallory? Is she still at the party?”
Without missing a beat, Tristan said, “Yeah, she is. I just had to come back cuz I forgot something. The last thing I expected was to see you in such a panic, though. Good thing I got here when I did.”
“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what neighbor would answer the door to help me, so I’m glad I ran into you,” You confessed.
Tristan laid a comforting hand over yours and smiled. “I’m just happy you’re not hurt. That guy’s gonna pay for what he did.”
You gave him a weak smile in return, before leaning into his touch. Seeing Tristan being so soft was new, but you found it sweet and appreciated how hard he was trying to soothe you. You closed your eyes as he wrapped an arm around you, glad that you were finally away from that creepy intruder.
Tristan let you rest, pulling out his phone when it buzzed with a text alert. Opening the message, it read:
I’m out of the house now. Sorry I couldn’t keep em pinned for longer, I know u wanted to look like the hero or some shit. Though it looks like it still worked out in the end
Trying to hide his smile, Tristan replied:
Thanks man. I’ll send the rest of your payment over in a bit, after the cops leave and things settle down.
Stuffing his phone away, he squeezed your arm gently, smirking at the way you moved in closer. You were so easy to scare.
Right into his arms.
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daisybianca · 1 year
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pairing: charles leclerc x femalereader
summary: you're an interviewer and get the chance to meet the talented and dangerously handsome F1 driver, Charles Leclerc. You both feel an instant attraction to each other, but little did you know that you two shared the same hotel that night, and would soon be unexpectedly but fortunately reunited.
warnings: just fluff and charles being a flirty man
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AS THE INTERVIEW came to a pleasant end, your heart was racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Charles leaned forward, his green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that left you breathless. "It's truly an honor to be here, speaking with such a talented and beautiful woman," he said, his voice soft and warm. You couldn't help but feel a fluttering in your chest as he spoke, his words melting away your nerves.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, before responding. "Thank you, Charles. It's an honor to be here with you today as well," you said, your voice still shaky.
Charles' eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see right through you, as though he could see straight into your soul. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was just as attracted to you as you were to him. His eyes never left yours, and with each passing moment, the tension between the two of you only grew stronger.
Charles leaned forward once more, his gaze intense. "It's been truly wonderful speaking with you today," he said, his voice low and seductive. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he spoke, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way you did.
You smiled at him, feeling more comfortable in your skin than you had in a long time. "The pleasure was all mine, Charles," you said, your voice softer than usual.
Charles' smile widened, and for a moment, you felt as though the world had slowed down to a standstill.
Then, with a final nod, he stood up, his body radiating confidence and power. You watched as he made his way out, your heart racing as you processed the intensity of the encounter.
But as you sat there, alone in the empty studio, you couldn't help but think about his gaze, his voice, and the way he had made you feel. You knew that you had to see him again, to find out if there was something more between the two of you.
Little did you know that fate had a different plan in store.
・❥・
As you made your way back to your hotel later that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You had a creeping sensation that you were being followed, that someone was watching you.
You tried to shake off the feeling, attributing it to your own anxieties.
After all, you weren't in your home country. You were in a new city, surrounded by strangers. It was natural to feel a bit overwhelmed.
But as you approached your hotel, you noticed that the streets were unusually quiet, almost deserted. You quickened your pace, your heart racing as you walked towards the entrance.
That's when you saw him, Charles, standing at the hotel entrance, his gaze fixed on you. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and fear at the same time.
"Well, well, well," he said, his voice low and seductive. "What are the chances of seeing you here?"
You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words, his gaze burning into yours. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that he was just as drawn to you as you were to him.
"What are you doing here, Charles?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the situation.
Charles smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you, of course."
What?
Your heart raced at his words, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and fear at the same time. You had never felt this way before, and you didn't know what to do.
The questions were countless. But you were scared that if you blurted them out he would think you're crazy.
"I don't understand," you said, your voice shaking slightly. "Why are you here?"
Charles leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I can't get you out of my mind, you know. Your beauty, your intelligence, your poise. I had to see you again."
Your heart raced as you took in his words, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond.
"I can't help but wonder," Charles continued, his voice low and seductive. "What would it be like to spend more time with you? To get to know you better?"
You felt a shiver run down your spine as he spoke, and you couldn't help but wonder the same thing.
"I'd like that," you said, your voice softer than usual. "I'd like that very much."
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lyomeii · 2 years
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a darling not loving him anymore
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->warnings: yandere themes, death mention, reader is at first blind loving this man, angst, comfort(?)
-> request by anon! We don't get enough of Claude(From WMMAP) so here's the scenario I've been thinking for awhile. Reader is someone that's a daughter from a high positioned noble who wanted his love more than anything. (This happened after diana died) The reader doesn't care that he killed someone, she just wanted his love! But after seeing that Claude hated her guts, she left and found a sweet and loving fiancé. Now when she left, Claude felt something, Emptiness.. Now his obsession kinda grew..
->a/n: uhhhhhhhh! love that idea anon ;) seeing this type of tropes always bring myself up and not to mention how satisfactory is too see the male character fall in love with the mc after she leave him! AHHH! sorry, just to anxious and happily to write it ;) also no more posting til Monday since i be doing tests and then playing overwatch
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-> the news of the emperor getting married reach the nobles and public ears, both surprised of such event since his lovers death years ago, so that made many people curious to find out who is the luck person to marry the emperor
-> and that person is you, a daughter one of the greatest general the empire, know as a sweet woman who deeply care about everyone and is often seen helping those in need, a unexpected but perfect match to Claude, yet he doesn’t see that way
-> he only married you for two obviously reason, your father asked him to do that in order to protect his precious daughter from older men praying in you and the other one is the amount of the people irritating him to get married to a noble lady, so yeah, he doesn’t see you in the same way you see him
-> the way your eyes almost become a heart shaped when he is in your view, your hugs when you are both alone, the beautiful robes you gave him in honor to his first love and spending time with his daughter to get know them better
-> to the servants at the palace is easily noticeable how deep is your love toward Claude and Anathasia, yet they also noticed how the emperor doesn’t really care about your presence at the palace, in fact, in recently times, he start to avoid you all costs
-> when you are taking care of Anathasia and asked to a nearby servant to ask Claude to play with his daughter with you, they quickly answer that the emperor is busy with his works, at first, you seem to believe them
-> however, as times goes, you start noticing how you stop seeing your husband anywhere and in those rare cases you manage to catch a glimpse of him, Claude is far away and playing with your stepdaughter, you felt a mixed of feelings
-> at first, you are happy that he is finally spending time with his daughter and he looks joyful! Yet, you feel sad to not be part of it and as much you want to talk about it with your husband, he still ignoring you everyday, and not even letting you spending time with Anathasia anymore
-> without much option to do, you ask Felix about your husband’s actions in the past few days and well, it did open your eyes to realize how Claude feel about you, the knight tried his best to use better words to describe what the emperor feel about you, but the damage was done, you realize that you were nothing to Claude and that will never change
-> feeling horrible, you decided to go into a divorce, as much that sound a terrible end to a noble lady married to the emperor, you finally felt happy, knowing that maybe one day someone will truly love you the same way you loved Claude
-> the last time you had a proper conversation with your ex-husband was the day he signed the divorce and let you go back home with your belonging, speaking how much Anathasia missed you and asked him what will happen to you if you left her
-> even loving the little girl, you said goodbye to the palace, promising to never return to this place and finally going back home, where you cried to yourself to sleep for being such idiot to think that Claude loved you
-> the gossips about the divorce was quickly spread by the commoner, yet many didn’t seem to be angry at the previous empress, some of them told many others how the emperor coldly treat his wife during her time at the palace, others spoken how he ignore her every moment and treated her as a stranger
-> yet, the gossips about the divorce of their emperor were stopped after months when they receive a new that made them happy, the sweet woman, once the empress has finally engaged a man who is consider her the gorgeous woman in the world, the lucky man is none than Rogers Alpheus
-> once again, the empire become festive knowing that the poor noblewoman has finally find her true love, not suffering more pain coming from the cold emperor
-> in the other hand, Claude felt emptiness, with you away from the palace, he though he would become happier with Anathasia, yet he miss your presence
-> your hugs, laughs and smiles, those were what brought joy inside the cold palace, and his daughter was happier when you were live with them, but he only noticed it too late and now you are gone from their life
-> the servants notice his attitude change and all of them knew the reason why, he was invited to you wedding with Duke Alpheus, Rogers gave the invitation himself as a respect, but asked to the blonde not coming since that will bring down your joyful behavior
-> and Claude agreed with the Duke, when the wedding happened, he didn’t participate but he waited in the shadows to see your face after you left the cathedral and was worth it
-> you dressed in the most elegant white dress with a bouquet full of beautiful flowers, and how your expression only show happiness with your new husband standing next to you while the guest congratulate the new couple
-> that’s the opposite of your previous wedding with him, the only person present was the priest who made you two married, the dress you wore was simple and he was wearing his usual clothes, still you were so happy to married him, but now you are marry to that man
-> not for long though, Claude will find his way to the top and bring you back home, where you will spend your life with his and your sweet daughter
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@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost
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wordsinhaled · 1 month
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a little snippet of the one where merlin never ends up at camelot and goes off to live alone in the woods instead. he and gwaine meet by chance anyway, and honestly your honor, i don't know what to tell you—they've got it bad. i can't help it, i just feel like they need their own romance novel plot
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Truthfully, Merlin had not expected to see Gwaine again, and certainly not so soon since they'd last parted.
Gwaine was not the sort of person who would linger—Merlin could sense wanderlust in a man, just as he could see into the secret, labyrinthine lives of animals or plants or sense the paths of the faraway stars. And Merlin himself was not someone people wanted to tarry long with, generally speaking. Perhaps it was his gold-glimmering irises, which they had chalked up to a ploy of the torchlight one too many times for their own comfort. He had a way about him. A way of scaring folk off.
And yet... not so with Gwaine, it seemed. For here he stood once more at Merlin's door, like a trick of the night. His crooked smile caught Merlin's heart sidewise and held fast.
It was as though he'd never left.
"Come in out of the rain," Merlin told him, at the same time as Gwaine said, "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I'd bet you try that on every man whose home you happen upon in a storm," Merlin said, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth nevertheless.
"Only when it's true," Gwaine countered, one part contrite to three parts earnest. That was one of Gwaine's gifts.
Merlin busied himself with banking the fire to keep from staring. He didn't need to, after all; Gwaine's presence was a tangible thing, it filled the little room, pressed all the air out of it and Merlin's lungs both. It would have taken half a thought to add more kindling with magic. Instead Merlin did the task by hand, because his errant fingers itched to reach for Gwaine. To unfold him like a weathered map there before the hearth, and learn where he'd been journeying, and take his cares from him.
After weeks of customary solitude, Merlin found it jarringly easy to slip back into what was there between the two of them: the banter, the laughter, the warmth. The feeling that Gwaine caused to well up from the untapped depths of him, no less fierce for being syrup-slow and sun-bright. Merlin tried not to name it love, because his fate had spoken of many things and never made mention of this.
Maybe, he thought, when he allowed himself to muse on it—maybe destiny was fallible, after all. For how could it grasp such a one as Gwaine?
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urlovebrini · 9 months
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take me where i belong (part 1)
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⋆❀ — includes: diluc, thignari x gn! reader
⋆❀ — synopsis: you had a fight with them, so you decide to escape to clear your mind, but things happend and now you only want to be in your home in the arms of your love
⋆❀ — content: gn! reader, fluff, comfort, hurt/comfort, fights, you honor they are in love, razor is here and he is a sweetheart as always, protect the wolfboy, diluc its bad at feelings, but he is also good at thi end, you will see, tighnari is serious but he means well.
⋆❀ — a/n: first part up!  hope you like it. i must admit that this is a bit self-indulgent, as i yearned for something purely comforting. there is for my girlies, boys, and people, for everyone who could use a bit of extra love and tenderness
⋆❀ — part 1 || part 2 || m.list
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⋆❀˖°·🫐࿐ ࿔˚ diluc
the cold air of the forest brushed against your body, while echos of the argument still reverberated in your mind, even the cold winds couldn't fully despel the tensión your felt, it was difficult not ti feel hurt with the way diluc seemed to disregard his well being, your concerns for him were something you just couldn't easily push aside but he seemed to disregard that too.
you walked to the forest, in hopes the nature will clean your mind. the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds chirping provided a soothing backdrop as you continued your walk. you had decided to give a visit to razor in the hopes to uplif you a little, that morning you had prepared some desserts, and just wanted to share it with someone who appreciate it.
it was easy to felt fondness and concern to the wolfboy, in your time alone where you escape was the forest, you relationship with him had grown more close, and you really appreciated his friendship, so it was a nice way to forget abbout diluc for the moment.
as you spoted him, a small smile formed on your face as you approached him "hello... friend" razor talks to you as he sees you "it's late, why you here?". as he asks you try to ignore the bad feelings of earlier "nothing, i just want to share this with you, i hope you like it." you show him the basket. he accepted with a smile and you took a seat in the forest.
maybe it's the company, maybe it's the distraction, but you ignored the air getting more coolder and the light of the afternoon disappearing, until razor asked you, "friend... are you okay?" you looked at him, not wanting to spoil the moment or worry him."i'm okay, razor. just... we had an argument, you know, those things that happen sometimes," you reply, trying to downplay your feelings." he lost a little confused but nods his head to you ""razor... know friend not happy, and razor want to help" he is such a sweatheart "i am already happy to share a moment with you razor" he smiles big and you continue with you early talk.
the night started and the first raindrops fell, its was really late, but you really not wanted to return to the house yet, it was serine, but the serenity was shatared, as the rain poured more harder figures started to emerge for the dark, you heart pounding. you saw razor get in high alert, his stance more rigid and fierce his voice urgent
"friend, danger. You must run, razor handle this". you looked at him, don't wanted to leaved him but he repeats "razor will take care of friend. run, be safe."
with a lump in you chest you started to run, you could hear the sounds of the fight and felt some of the monsters following you, as you run, the sounds of the skirmish behind you resonate in your ears, blending with the pounding of the rain, you might want to catch you brain but you still felt them. and you saw it, you saw the fire, feel the heat, and the last you see the figure of the man you love most.
his eyes where on you as he was fighting, cheeking that nobady happend to you, one by one they were falling, the ire of diluc making them fall, the monsters defeated you can only say "razor, i left him diluc, he is fighting" he furrowns his brows, you could see the apprehension in his eyes, he didn't wanted to leave you alone "fuck" you heard him grumbble "keep in my camp of vision" is the last thing he says, before he continues fighting
he looks at you you can see the apprehension, he don't want to put you in danger "fuck" you hearded him grumbble as hi took you to a place when he could watch you and figh.
The rain soaked everything, as the abbys monsters are deffeated, and your heart felt heavy of fault and shame. And like the silence comes, you look to the ground as diluc approaches you, his relief and concern taking over him. his hands carefully starts to cheeking you, and then he holds you in his arms, you can't move "razor, thank you for looking after them"
"friend important, razor protect" you felt diluc relax a little but his hold is still strong, he nods to razor but the boy continues "friend is lupical, don't make them angry, important to take care" his hold is more tight in the moment razor finish to talk
"understood, I promise I will no longer make her angry" your eyes fill with tears as he enveloped you in a protective embrace, allowing you to feel his warmth "are you alright?" his voice is low, his característic stern and serious tone you can only nod your head. without saying another word diluc took a decition. carefully, he took you up into his arms.
"i'll take you home" his voice sounded softly as he began, you fall in the comfort of his arms, your home your tought, you looked quickly to his eyes, his face is stern as always, but his eyes are full of concern, relief and frustration. you only could hide your head in his neck.
"I feel so mad right now" his talks voice stern, but you can also feel his hurt and worries "staying in the forest so late, i...." you hide your face more " i am sorry love, plase, promise me not matter what, you will stay safe"
you hold his neck more tightly "i promise, i am sorry luc" your voice is low he stops a minute of his walk to kiss your cheek and continue his way to your home "don't matter what i will take you home, i love you"
⋆❀˖°🫐·࿐ ࿔˚ tighnari
you had dissagriments with tighnari before, but this time you felt it different, the tension had escalated, and the cutting words had cutted deeper than usual. commonly the disputes where trivial things, but today you couldn't bear it anymore.
sometime the way he spoke to you, made you feel dumb, insignificant. the repetitive comments about the forest, protecction, care, hygiene felt like a constant reprimand. and moreover you felt neglected, sometimes for you it felt like you werent partners.
yes you loved him and have grown accustomed to his stern ways and seriousness about his life, but today you felt so small, and belittled. you had taken a little kitten home it was lost in the forest, and it was so pretty, and you felt that maybe it could occupied your time with him, and give you company. but tighnari reaction was not so nice. his questions and comments felt like a barrage of inquiries, assessing your comprehension of the intricacies of pet ownership.
you tried to share your feelings of loneliness, the need for more emotional closeness and affection. but tighnari nstead of empathizing with your vulnerability, they seemed to latch onto the practical aspects of owning a pet. It was as though they believed that by reinforcing the importance of responsibility, they could redirect your focus from your emotional needs. leaving you feeling unheard and invalidated.
and now, after all that, you found yourself in the midst of the forest, lost and immersed in your own toughts. the rain falls around you, and each drop that touches your skin seems to reflect your internal tears. amidst the confusion and sadness, you recall the times when tighnari had scolded you and warned you about the dangers of the forest. in that moment, you yearn to hear him, to hear those words you once considered an annoying lecture.
while you stand there drenched and lost, you can't help but wish for him even if it meant enduring a nagging or sermon about safety and that right now, you'd be willing to accept any advice or warning just to feel close to him again.
the sound of the storm seems to blend with the rapid beating of your heart as you tread through the forest, searching for your way back. in the mist of the rain, you hear a voice, a shout that carries a name, your name, spoken with desperation, and you recognize the voice.
"tighnari!" you call resonates in the air. the tears that had been flowing down your cheeks find new reasons to fell. emotions mixed within you—sadness, regret, and at the same time, a deep longing to be back in his presence. "tighnari!" you cried out his name. and as the storm continues its course, you hold onto the hope that you'll soon be in his arms, where you belong.
when you saw him before you, his desperate gaze meeting yours amidst the rain and darkness, your breathing stops for a second. not sure whether to run into his arms or to stay put, bracing yourself for what might come next.
and then before you could made a decition, his arms embraced you and you let yourself fall in his arms. gradually, his embrace loosens, and he pulls back slightly and starts cheeking you for a sing of injury
"i got lost" you whisper weakly voice is barely a murmur, but it's enough for him to hear. his gaze lifts from his examination, meeting your eyes. with a soft sigh, tighnari embraces you a little tighter "i know" he said softly "i'm here"
tighnari's hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. "you're important to me," he continues, his voice unwavering. "i may not always show it the way you want me to, but that doesn't mean i don't care."
You hold him tighter, and let out a surprised sound as he lifts you onto his arms "lets take you home, there is a kitten waiting for you, and well i need you there to"
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⋆❀ — a/n: i want to write more but i am working on my thesis and my brain is fried with so much words and letters, and yes i write this because i need a hug. second part will have ayato and alhaitham, so yes more stern boys with a big heart. ask are oppen if you had a idea, coment or suggestion
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bug-bites · 9 months
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LET THEM COOK!
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tw: none! just pure fluff :]
pairings: task force 141 x gn!reader (can be either platonic or romantic)
summary: cooking with tf-141 heacanons :3
characters: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, and gary "roach" sanderson
notes: first batch of headcanons yurrrr 🗣️‼️💯 (sorry if they're a bit ooc im abt to eep :P)
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john price
he's a cook from the heart type of guy and it always turns out (surprisingly) really good
most of the recipes he has memorized are probably comfort meals or hangover cures
this man is so well meaning, standing behind you and helping you with every damn thing no matter how small the task. he does the thing where he holds your hand when you're chopping anything with a knife or stirring and guides you. it gets a bit overbearing but he's trying his to help
probably acts like you have never seen an oven/stovetop before and is constantly reminding you its hot as if thats not the whole point of it
he likes playing music while he cooks with you (most likely a shared playlist between the both of you) he likes humming along to it and he likes it even more when he can hear you hum along with him
the meal he defaults to making with you is probably chicken pot pie that tastes just like home
kyle "gaz" garrick
this man can BAKE. cake? muffins? cookies? he's got a recipe for it and you bet your ass its a damn good recipe.
he probably enjoys having the great british bake off in the background while he cooks
out of all the guys in TF-141, gaz is probably the one you should trust the most in there with you. when its the two of you in the kitchen not only do you get things done efficiently, it ends up being super fun with minimal chaos!
you definitely made each other those super cute lunchbox cakes for each other at one point
as much as he loves trying new recipes with you, making strawberry rhubarb pie from scratch with you is one he will always default to. he prefers his slice with a side of whipped cream <3
john "soap" mactavish
i dont think any of the guys are completely incompetent in the kitchen, when left alone in a kitchen soap could probably make a pretty good meal. emphasis on him alone in the kitchen
but when it is you two in the kitchen it will take a lot longer than expected or go to shit (but will still be edible!)
gets into flour fights with you even if the recipe doesn't call for any. he just grabs it out the pantry and WHAPOW it looks like the pillsbury dough boy just fucking exploded
he also keeps eating things he's not supposed to. raw cookie dough, batter, straight up flour, etc he probably took a bite or two for "taste testing purposes" of course. he's lucky he's got an iron stomach because if his immune system was even the tiniest bit weaker food poisoning would be beating his ass
one thing that you would enjoy making together would probably be crème brûlée. of course he get the honors of the little blowtorch part but you could get away with doing a few if you ask very nicely
gary "roach" sanderson
he takes the smaller tasks like chopping things up, washing fruits and veggies, or keeping the countertops organized and he does a really good job at whatever small task you give him
ask him to slice something up for you and trust they will be in the most perfect even slices you have ever seen in your life
if you're baking together he would love watching whatever delicious creation you made together rise in the oven. he likes just sitting criss cross applesauce on the floor, feeling the warmth radiating from the oven as he watches the baked goods cook. the first time he did this you didn't realize he was just sitting on the floor so you tripped over him
your go-to thing to make together is definitely chocolate chip cookies. roach likes putting small designs on top with chocolate chips like hearts, smiley faces, or just cuss words because he's silly like that
they come out really good but if you share with someone else make sure you don't hand them one that says "dick" in all capital letters
simon "ghost" riley
he has all the measurements with him and a scale to measure ingredients so you think he's precise and it will be all fine right? wrong. sure he measures his ingredients but if he goes over he probably doesn't try to fix it. ghost is the type of guy to shrug it off and adds it to the bowl anyways. to him measurements are suggestions
this bitch doesnt level his measuring cups
this usually goes well for cooking but for baking not so much
has forgotten to add in seasonings on a number of occasions so right before you put it in the oven you have to do a whole checklist to make sure that everything that should be in there is actually in there
favorite thing to make together is probably pesto pasta. most of it is measured by heart which he definitely appreciates and also less dishes to wash!
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bigfan-fanfic · 2 years
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Sorry for Kicking Your Ass (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)
Requested by anonymous for  Can you do a fic where Dean met a magic user he used to hunt, but failed to, years later when he stopped hunting. He felt a crush on him and now he knows those weird feelings he used to thought as aggression was actually attraction now that he’s a bit comfortable with his sexuality?
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"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester, in the flesh." You smirk, sliding into the booth across from the man in question.
Dean looks a little strangled - which makes sense, as your magic is already holding him in place, preventing him from moving anything but his eyes and mouth.
"Didn't I tell you what would happen if I caught you back in my town, Winchester?" you snarl.
"To be fair to me, didn't mean to get caught. Kind of a gas and food up stop."
You frown. "You're not hunting?"
He tries to shrug but can't. "Uh... no. Baby's only got the essentials for self-defense."
You tilt your head. "Why?" Hunters don't quit. They die on the job.
"Well, maybe I didn't wanna die. Again. Maybe I just wanted a fucking apple pie life, okay?"
You let the spell down. "What about your asshole dad?"
"Died. Couple of times." Dean shrugs, looking mournfully at the pie slice his sudden freedom of movement sent crashing to the floor.
"Oh. Condolences."
He shrugs.
"What about your little brother? Sammy. Last I saw him, he was in high school?"
"He got a full ride to college. Dropped out to find our dad with me. We hunted for a few years, and then I decided I'd had enough of dying and getting brought back, and we quit. I think Sam reconnected with an old girlfriend up in New York. Working in an art gallery."
"And you?"
"Been, uh... figuring myself out. Making amends. I hurt a lot of people I shouldn't have while hunting. People who weren't really monsters. So... I kinda lied earlier. I am here to see you."
"Me? Uh... I kinda beat your ass last time we met, Winchester."
He nods. "But, uh... before then."
You think back.
You had been home on winter break from college when you saw the fake FBI Agents (John and Dean). To be fair, you had killed a dirty cop that was blackmailing high school girls, but still.
John had figured due to your sloppiness that you were inexperienced and left to go on a hunt a state over.
So that left Dean looking for you.
He met you while walking through town, and didn't know you were the witch. You made quick friends and Dean gave you the vibes.
You invited him home, but when you tried to kiss him, he freaked out.
It didn't quite surprise you, but it still hurt to see him looking at you in disgust and anger.
He had left, and the next week he was in your house again, trying to kill you. Which was kinda the worst reaction you had ever had to an attempted kiss.
"Look, I was a shit back then. I freaked out on you. Normally, seeing what that prick did, I'd have left you alone, but... I thought you had put a spell on me. I didn't understand what I was feeling."
You freeze. "Uh... are you coming out to me, Dean?"
"Yeah, guess I am." He smirks, pulling aside his jacket so you can see the little bi flag pin he has hidden, pinned on the inside, over the heart.
You chuckle a little there.
"I won't say you were my first guy crush. That honor belongs to Robert Plant." Dean jokes. "But definitely the first crush I actually knew in real life that I knew was a crush."
You start to laugh. "So, what now, Dean? You wanna start all the way over?"
Dean shrugs. "If you like. If you want, I'd like to at least redo that kiss you wanted to give me."
You giggle. "Okay. We'll see. Take me out to dinner first, and we'll see how it goes."
"Deal."
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
Text
FD part 3
Never proofread
⚠️angst ahead
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The fans adored Eddie with Y/N. All her fans were amazed that she admitted to being in a serious relationship, they all knew there had to have been something so special about him. But Eddie didn't feel one thing that was special about him, he was a fake.
Whenever they were alone he could ignore his crimes, just be lost in how amazing their small little world together felt. Hiding in the darkness of her room, under the sheets where no one knew a thing about them. But once they stepped outside, the cameras were there, the questions were loud, and the papers were writing. Anytime he saw them on the cover of something he was reminded how bloody his hands were. The same hands he used to touch her in such a delicate way.
His heart raced with love when he got her all to himself.
His heart raced with anxiety when he shared her with the world.
Their relationship blowing up kept Zack buzzing with anticipation. Eddie tried to ignore his calls, running away from the crime scene he created for himself. But Zack only cared about the money and the fame. Dragging Eddie back into the mess whenever he tries to escape. Reminding him of the exact reason why he even got to be with Y/N in the first place.
She was perfect in so many ways. She'd wake him up with kisses all around his face, offering they stay in bed for hours. She'd get them coffee for their trips to the studio. She'd help him co-write his songs, and help him with the producing.
Whenever he get frustrated, she was right there to help. When he was overworked she'd make him dinner and cuddle him to sleep. She was always there to take care of him, and he felt so loved.
But everything was a lie.
~~~
She had an interview to boost their song together, Eddie watching from the sidelines as she talked with a huge smile on her face. She looked so happy to be up there and talking about their relationship.
And the fan noticed.
His whole Twitter feed was covered in that interview. Everyone tweeting how in love she looked, how happy she seemed, and how everyone was so happy to see her in a relationship. She and her fans were family, and they welcomed him in.
~~~
Zack was eating it up, watching Eddie's streams rise. Eddie Munson was now a well-known name.
The couple has now been together for a year
But the fans were getting too comfortable. They were eating up the love songs, but Zack needed their name all across the media again. He needed big headlines, he needed the drama.
~~~
Eddie finally met her dad, the man who could give everything he ever dreamed of.
"Just relax, he's going to love you," Y/N promised, holding Eddie's sweaty hand as he nervously ate away at his bottom lip.
Eddie held his breath as Mike Pettson opened the door. Eddie felt star-struck, barely feeling the floor beneath his feet.
"Daddy!" She squealed, releasing Eddie's hand to wrap her hands around her dad.
Eddie's heart was pounding. He was meeting the man of California, not for his music, but because of his daughter. He was starting to feel sick, the guilt eating at his insides. He was getting closer to the flame, at any second it would turn on him and he'd burn alive with his lies.
"...this is Eddie!" Once Eddie heard his name, he snapped back into the world. Wiping his hands as he went to shake Mike's hand. Mike smiled and gave Eddie a hard grip.
"Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you and your music," Mike said
Eddie tried to contain his excitement, Mike Pettson has heard of his music. But the excitement dropped looking at the beautiful girl smiling at him.
The dinner went amazingly. Mike talked about taking Eddie under his label. Eddie didn't think twice about saying yes, ready to sign the deal.
When they were heading out the door, Mike pulled Eddie aside. He felt worried he might have said the wrong thing at dinner but Mike was smiling at him.
"She's never brought anyone home to me, you must be pretty damn special. And I'd be honored to have you on my label, son."
~~~
Eddie spent his morning with Y/N, as he always did. Making breakfast in the kitchen together, burning pancakes left and right. He loved starting his day with love and laughs. He has never felt this happy.
"How is the relationship going?" Zack asked, Eddie walked in with his coffee from home. Another management meeting to attend.
"Oh my god, so good, man. She's incredible " Eddie gushed
"perfect she'll never see it coming!" Zack cheered, clapping his hands loudly, causing Eddie to jump.
"See what?" He asked
"The break up"
"Wait I don't want to break up with her!" Eddie panicked. He didn't want to lose her, he loved having her around.
"And you didn't want to date her at first but look how that turned out," Zack argued back
"It's been a year! I've done everything you wanted. My name is out there. I'm selling record after record. I've done a tour. I've made it. Why are we still doing this? Can't I just date the girl I love and be done with your stupid plan?" Eddie snapped, standing up as he breathed heavier.
"Stupid plan? Don't forget I am the only reason you have a career. You were nothing before me. I got you in the spotlight. I got you the girl with the famous daddy to get you over the top. It's not my fault you were stupid enough to catch feelings for the girl. You knew all along that it was a setup. You are using her, that's all you were meant to do." Eddie hated that Zack was right.
"What about Mike? I just got on his label like a week ago, if I break his daughter's heart, don't you think he'll just get rid of me?" Eddie tried to reason. He didn't care if Mike took him off. He just needed a reason to keep Y/N with him, he couldn't look at her and break her heart.
"He can't. You signed with him for a full year, he can't touch you. I'm not an idiot Eddie. You are stuck in that deal, perfect time to break up. You've got a huge girl fan base. These girls love you and drool over you. A single rockstar is what the world needs. Girls need to think they have a shot with you. Dump her and let's move to the next step" Zack said, throwing out the plan like there would be no consequences to anything. It would be just so easy.
"But what about all the fans that will turn on me? The ones who were so shocked she got into a relationship. Now I'm supposed to drop her out of nowhere? Right after the media released me having a label with her father? They will eat me alive." Eddie tried to reason again.
"That's perfect too! Think about it. You break up and it's going to break the internet. The little pop star's heart is broken for the first time. She's gonna write her best work. And everyone will know it's about you. People who don't even know you two will hear the impact of this breakup. They'll get invested. Then they will sit and wait for your turn to drop your album. And that will be your next big hit right there! It's perfect. Even if they hate you, your name is still in their mouth" Zack wasn't letting it go, and Eddie knew he was fucked.
"I hate you Eddie Munson."
Zack and Eddie's heads both snapped to the sound of a new voice in the room.
Y/N standing there, tears in her eyes as she stared at Eddie and Eddie only.
Eddie panicked, how long was she standing there?
Before he could say anything she turned and ran out of the room.
"BABY WAIT!" he yelled, already running to be on her trail.
He raced into the parking lot, slamming the door before she could get in the car.
"Let me explain." He panted out. She could see all the worry in his eyes. The shakey breaths from his lungs.
He hated how hard her eyes were, the same eyes he saw when he met her. Nothing of love or softness swirling in her eyes anymore.
“So none of it was real? You didn’t mean any of it? You are just like everyone else. Hungry for fame and don't give a single shit who you hurt. Fucking used me to get to my dad? Played me like a goddamn idiot so you could have your name in the stars." She spat out, the anger was clear in her voice. A tone Eddie never heard her use.
"No, it was real! I liked you the second you bitched me out. I want to be honest with you. Please just let me explain everything." He pleaded.
"I don't care what you have to say. Because I will never believe another word that comes out of your mouth. I finally thought I found someone who liked me for me. Not for my name, not for my fame, and not for my dad. But those were the only things you cared about me for. You knew who I was all along. You acted like you were learning things about me for the first time, but now I know you were pretending through everything." He hated the way her voice shook throughout every sentence. The tears flowed down her face but her eyes stayed hard.
"I do like you for you! I fell for you. It started as a plan to get known, yes I'm not going to deny that. But you are way more than that. I loved learning everything about you. I love you, just please give me a chance to fix this. I didn't mean to hurt you, or make this hard."
"It's not supposed to be easy breaking someone's heart Eddie." She sighed, cleaning off her face. She didn't believe anything he said. She didn't believe he loved her or that he had any real connections in their relationship. It was all a game. And a game she played too many times n
"Is there a way I cannot break it?" He asked
"No, I already fell in love with you. But that doesn't matter, right? Well, the world knows your name now Eddie. Guess you don't need me anymore huh? Congratulations, enjoy the contract with my dad. I hope you are happy, and got everything you wanted." She spat at him, one last glare as she shoved him away from her car.
Not wasting a second to get in her car and drive out of the parking lot.
Eddie looked around, luckily no paparazzi caught the interaction. He fucked up, but he didn't want her looking so vulnerable to be on the cover of everything within an hour.
He got where he wanted to be, and it was fucking lonely.
Tags!
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Series tags!
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jerzwriter · 4 months
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Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick x Casey - eventually 😊, Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen Words: 1,900 Series Summary: Can be found here. Chapter Summary: A confused Tobias heads to his old watering hole to relax, but uninvited self-reflection gets in his way. He finally gets it under control when Ethan shows up, and the visit isn't necessarily friendly. How does the night end... and who isn't being truthful. A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I'm really enjoying exploring this point of Tobias & Casey's relationship. Participating in @choicesfebruary2024 - Philia (Friendship), a little Eros (Romantic/Passionate) too. :)
Without Warning Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist My Full Masterlist
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Eight Weeks After Chemical Attack
“Uh-oh, look what the wind blew in!” The stout, grey-haired man behind beamed as if he saw a long-lost friend. “Get over here, you bum! Where the hell have you been?”
The Puddingstone Tavern was to Kenmore what Donahue’s was to Edenbrook, and for nearly a decade, Tobias all but lived there. His signature smirk was firmly in place as he sauntered to the bar like a king returning to his domain.
“Has it been that long, Charlie?” Tobias said, vigorously shaking the man’s hand. “I was here last Tuesday, for Christ’s sake.”
Charlie made a show of pulling the calendar down from the wall and turned to Tobias with a grin.
“Last Tuesday, and if this thing is correct, today is Thursday. So, nine days! You’ve been MIA for nine days, and we didn’t see you for a week before that. We’re used to you being here after every shift. What happened? Was it something I said?”
 “You know I don’t scare easily. It would take much more than you to scare me away.”  
“So then, what’s the story?” Charlie pressed, placing Tobias’s favorite beer in front of him just as a dark-haired waitress with crystal blue eyes passed, eager to insert herself into the conversation.
“Word on the street is Carrick has a girlfriend,” she teased. 
“A girlfriend? A girlfriend!” Charlie’s belly shook when he broke into a hearty laugh. “Oh, God! That’s a good one. A decade he’s been comin’ here, and I’ve never seen the same woman on his arm more than once.”
“Now that’s a damn lie,” Tobias defended. “I brought a few of them here twice. I think one even made it three.”  
“Sure,” Charlie shrugged. “But normally, we'd see you with a different one between their visits. I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend. A girlfriend,” Charlie was so busy snickering he hadn’t noticed that Tobias was no longer laughing along.
“Yeah...” Tobias smiled sadly, “Could you just imagine?”
Charlie left to tend to another patron, leaving Tobias alone with his thoughts. He couldn't even say why he hadn’t been there? It wasn't Casey. He only saw her once, all right, maybe twice a week. Sure, they texted most nights, but that was no reason to stay away. No matter, he reminded himself, she was not his girlfriend. That much he knew was true. So, it was absurd to think she had anything to do with this.
He tried to shift his focus, but Charlie’s barrelling laughter kept replaying in Tobias’s mind. “A girlfriend? A girlfriend!... I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend!”  Was it that preposterous an idea? Sure, he would have thought it was himself not too long ago. In fact, he would have worn it as a badge of honor, but he felt differently now. Now... it stung. Did anyone think that he had the emotional capacity to be anything other than a fuckboy?
He closed his eyes and took in a whiff of the stale, familiar air. It felt like home, and he should be comfortable here; but he found himself terribly out of place. Eager for a distraction, he reached over the bar to grab the remote control and put on the Celtics game. That would do it! Leaning back in his chair, he was beginning to feel at ease, but not for very long.
Two basketball quarters and two drinks in, Tobias heard heavy footsteps approaching on the worn wooden floor. He didn’t notice when they stopped behind him, but the baritone voice that followed couldn’t be ignored.
Ethan glanced over Tobias’s shoulder and rolled his eyes. “You always did have shit taste in booze.”
Tobias turned, successfully hiding his astonishment.
“This is a New Belgium Trippel,” Tobias said. "It's one of the best craft beers out there.”
“Exactly. A craft beer.” Ethan motioned for the bartender. “What’s the best Scotch in the house.”
“That would be Johnny Walker Blue.”
“I’ll take that,” Ethan nodded. “Neat.”
Tobias waited until Ethan had his drink in hand before he began a conversation. They’d spoken exactly once since the night of the attack, and while the hatchet was buried, the men were miles away from being friends.
“So, what brings you here,” Tobias asked. “You have something going on at Kenmore?”
“No, I just had it on good counsel that you’d be here tonight.”
Tobias raised a brow. “Spying on me? I don’t know... should I be flattered or frightened, Ramsey."
“You shouldn’t be either.”
“Ah! So, you’ve come to offer me a job?” Tobias snickered. “I knew you’d come begging one day.”
“No,” Ethan chortled. “We’re still awake, Carrick. This isn’t a dream.”
“So, then, why did you come to see me?”
Ethan inhaled deeply, taking a long sip of his drink as he pondered if this had been a good idea. Assuring himself he came for a reason, he continued.
“There’s no use beating around the bush. I’ve heard you and Casey have been spending a lot of time together since the attack."
He may have been able to hide his surprise before, but Tobias made no attempt to hide his expression this time, and he was not pleased.
“Whoa... whoa...whoa... Look, I don’t know if you’re keeping tabs on me or on Casey, but either way it’s fucked up. What either of us does with our time is none of your concern.”
“Actually, it is,” Ethan shot back. “Casey... Casey’s on my team, and her well-being matters to me.”
Tobias raised his beer to his smirking lips. “That’s a little above and beyond for a boss-employee relationship. Wouldn't you say? If we're being honest tonight, you may as well admit that she was much more than a resident to you.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide, the his discomfort was palpable. Somehow, both things left Tobias pleased.
“You... you know...about us," Ethan stammered.
“Look, even if Casey hadn’t told me... it wasn’t exactly a well-guarded secret. You underestimate the Boston hospital grapevine.”
Ethan focused on the back of the bar, his face turning red, though he was unsure if anger or embarrassment was the cause.
“Was." Ethan said sternly. "Whatever Casey and I shared is in the past. But she still matters to me. She’ll never be ‘just’ a teammate.”
“OK,” Tobias shrugged. “And what does any of this have to do with me.”
“I’m aware of your... history... Carrick. I know how much you hurt Casey after you stole Stefanie out from under her. But, for some reason, she still had a soft spot for you. And now... with her being so... fragile... I'm just here to tell you - don't take advantage of that, Tobias. Because if you do, you'll have to deal with me."
Tobias stared at his beer, shaking his head with a wicked chuckle.
“That's rich! That is rich coming from you, given your history. What’s the matter, Ethan? Were you planning on making a move yourself? Trying to get any potential competition out of the way?”
Ethan felt his pulse quickening as his lips formed into a line.  
“She’s coping with PTSD, Carrick. I’d never do such a thing.”
“Yeah, so once again, you’re the Boy Scout, and I’m some degenerate. You’re not the only one with decency, Ethan, and I’m through letting you believe that you are. I don’t owe you any explanation, but nothing is going on between Casey and me. I care about her; I care about her a lot. She’s a friend who is going through hell right now, and I’m doing all I can to help her... not take advantage of her.”
It had been years since he and Tobias had been friends, but Ethan could still tell when there was sincerity in his eyes; he could see and hear its presence now, and that put him at ease. The hurt in Tobias’s eyes and the sincerity in his voice put Ethan at ease.
“Good. That's all I wanted to know."
Both men pretended to focus on the game as an awkward silence fell between them. It was Tobias who eventually broke the standoff; rubbing his chin, he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Ethan, I’m glad things are civil between us again, I really am. But the dirt has barely covered the big hatchet we just buried... and you have to go and do this? Don't you see you're overstepping, man...”
"You're right..." Ethan agreed, looking slightly abashed. "I did overstep... and deep down, I knew that coming in. But honestly, protecting Casey mattered more to me than upsetting you or making a fool of myself. So I did what I felt was best.”
“Protecting her... from me?”
“All right, Carrick... give up the alter boy routine. Can you blame me? If you care about her as much as you say, you would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.”
Tobias shook his head with a sad smile. “You know, I’m far from perfect. No one is. And I’m not saying I haven’t done some messed up shit in the past, but preying on vulnerable women has never been my style, and you know that."
Ethan diverted his eyes, with a question lingering in his mind that needed to be spoken.
“Why her? You’ve been with god knows how many women. Why is Casey the one you can't let go of?”
“Do you think this is because of you?” Tobias blurted. “Because it’s not... it has nothing to do with you. Casey... she's just incredible. She’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m talking about the inside, not the out. She’s brilliant, funny, and kind, and when you’re with her, she makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world... and I’m not talking about me... she makes everyone feel that way. She sees the best in people when most want to focus on their flaws. She’s kind enough to give a jackass like me a second chance to be her friend...and there’s no way I’m going to blow that.”
Ethan gazed at Tobias with a knowing half-smile.
“Sure, but you’re not in love with her.”
Tobias swallowed hard, quietly shaking his head. “We’re friends, Ethan... we’re just friends,” he repeated, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure if he was convincing Ethan or himself. “ And what about you?”
“What do you mean...what about me?”
“Do you still love her?”
“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But not in that way. She matters to me, and she always will. I know I hurt her in the past, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. After everything that happened recently? I suppose I'm a bit overprotective.”
“Yeah... I get that. I get all of that.”
Ethan picked up his glass with a smile. “We always did have more in common than we liked to believe.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let word get out on the street. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don’t need you tarnishing it.”
“Oh, is that so?” Ethan laughed. “Imagine me tarnishing you?”
Tobias met his eyes, and both men chuckled.
“So,” Ethan said. “Are we... still good?”
Tobias shrugged. “You care about her and want to protect her. I want to do the same, so how can I fault you?”
Ethan nodded uncomfortably.  “Well, I should settle my tab...”
“Why? The night is young, and the Celtics are about to go into the last quarter. Why don’t you stay and watch with me.”
“Really?”
“No,” Tobias rolled his eyes. “Yes, really.”
“All right,” Ethan said, sliding back onto his stool. He motioned for another drink, and when it arrived, he raised it to Tobias.
“Cheers,” Ethan smiled.
“Cheers.”
Both took a long drink, then Tobias turned to his... friend?
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Ethan snorted in reply. “Not if you keep saying shit like that. You're not exactly Bogart, Carrick."
The men remained at the bar for at least another hour without an ounce of tension between them, and though they’d never admit it, that made them both happy. When Tobias returned home, he checked his messages one last time after slipping into bed. A smile he hadn’t felt coming spread across his face the moment he saw her name.
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He turned off the light on his nightstand but continued staring at Casey's message for some time. Finally putting the phone down, he made himself comfortable. We're just friends, he repeated to himself. He had promised her, just friends, and that's what they would stay... but he was beginning to realize just how how hard that would be.
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
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stuffymcstuffsworld · 1 month
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My happiness
Over the years, shichiro has seen many happy couples get married. A lot of his peers finding their lifelong partners. Sometimes, he wonders if he'll ever have happiness like that.
♧Deep down, I won't say it out loud, there's a part of me I cover up with. "I don't cares." But my friends I introduced in college, they're walking down the aisle.♧
He can't help but feel a little envious. Watching such joy pass him by. But he's also terrified. What if he never finds this?
♧While I'm just standing there and I'm scared. That I'll be in the wedding, but never have my own. Yeah I could be the best man, but still end up alone.♧
What if nobody loved him? What if he would be alone forever? Just known as the creepy demon who mumbles to himself and constantly touches others.
♧And I've convinced myself that I'll never fall in love, but I hope someday, somebody makes me say. I was wrong!♧
He'll just stick to his books. Keeping to himself. He's too scary for anyone. Too large, too intimidating. Not to mention self-conscious of his scared face.
Who could ever be comfortable with a demon like him? He'll just focus on his work and studies. Romance just isn't in the cards.
♧Wrong to think I'd never find someone. Who looks at me and knows that I'm the one. Get a house, start a family, get a dog and get married. Whatever we want. Cause I was wrong!♧
Sometimes, he daydreamed of what it would be like. To wake up besides someone in the morning. To eat together and fall asleep against each other.
♧Mom stopped asking me if I was ever gonna bring somebody home or if she'll ever have a grandkid.♧
It was no doubt he constantly worried his mother. Shichiro didn't make raising him easy. Not with his irregular strength or his habit of bringing random creatures home.
She had ended up crying from joy when she met Opera-sempai and Kalego-kun. Just happy he had companions at school. After being alone for so long...
♧But I'm use to giving her the excuse, "That I'm so much better on my own." But what she doesn't understand is, I've convinced myself that my issues are too much, but I hope someday, somebody makes me say. I was wrong!♧
That was until he met you. You who seemed to accept him as he was. You someone who looked past any of his flaws.
You who enjoyed his excessive petting or his constant questions. His height not intimidating you at all. You were like a blessing.
Always welcoming him with warm smiles and open arms. The doting looks and loving words. Somehow, he was lucky enough to find such a creature.
Someone who understood his commitment to the school and its students. Who enjoyed speaking with his colleagues. A partner that he adored entirely.
♧Wrong to think I'd never find someone who looks at me and knows that I'm the one. Get a house, start a family, get a dog, and get married. Whatever we want. Cause I was wrong!♧
It was strange. Standing nervously under an arch and waiting for you. But... when he saw you walking towards him on the arm of a balling Sullivan, he felt the air leave his lungs.
Kalego played the piano in time to your steps. Opera stood beside him as a demon of honor for you both. The staff and students all in attendance.
The jigokuchō, (hell butterflies) flutter around the room. His mother is in tears as his father holds her close. Yet... none of that matters.
♧Cause I was wrong!♧
All that mattered was you. So pretty. Dazzling in white. The flowers woven in your hair. That bright grin. Pure joy radiating off of you.
Only a few feet away now. Suddenly, you let go of Sullivan and throw yourself at Shichiro. He catches you. Holding you close. Petals in his hair, his eyes shining.
♧Wrong to think I'd never find someone who looks at me and knows that I'm the one!♧
The whole ceremony is a blur really. All he can focus on is the perfect creature in his arms. Looking deeply into your eyes. And his heart races.
When you say, "With all my heart." Instead of "I do." He knows it's true. And when it's his turn he almost misses it because he's so overwhelmed with emotions.
"More than anything." He strokes your cheek. You beam, a smile brighter than the diamonds Sullivan has decorated you in. You gently slide off his mask, pulling him down to your height.
♧Got the house, got married, grew old and became happy. We did what we want.♧
The kiss felt like a lifetime. Pouring all his emotions into it as he held you closer. Your fingers tugging on his long hair.
It was almost as if you couldn't stop kissing him. The whole day was spent with blissful pecks and smiles. Shichiro had never been more happy to be wrong in his entire life.
He was worth loving. It had to be true since you said it to his entire family, and not a single one detected a lie. Thank whatever diety who sent you to him.
♧cause I was wrong.♧
Watching their families and friends drink and dance in celebration as he spins you carefully around the floor. The laughter and congratulations from others. He was on cloud nine.
♧Hope I'm wrong♧
He looks down at you. You lean up and kiss his marred face affectionately. What a perfect day for a wedding. It was a wonderful day to spend eternity with you.
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farfromstrange · 4 months
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Do No Harm
CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.
Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent
Word Count: 5.3k
A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.
Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3
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Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?
After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way. 
“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line. 
You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant. 
“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”
“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”
You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones. 
You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant. 
But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.
His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection. 
You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.
The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety. 
Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt. 
Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.
“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral. 
You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you. 
You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are. 
Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”
You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick. 
“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat. 
“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say. 
“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”
“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”
“How can you be sure?” she retorts. 
You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”
Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him. 
“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.
You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”
“I—” she cuts herself off. 
One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.
“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say. 
Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking. 
She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”
The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”
The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them. 
With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out. 
You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned? 
Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own. 
Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here. 
You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there. 
When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.
Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.
The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.
Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.
He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself. 
Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.
The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world. 
Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.
He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man. 
You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.
A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him. 
But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten. 
“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’
You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”
Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning. 
The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?
You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.
“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.
His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.
What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?
“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”
He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”
Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.
“You seem nervous,” he observes. 
“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”
“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”
The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning. 
You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.
If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.
Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.
He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go. 
“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
“Are you sure?”
You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask. 
Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead. 
The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.
The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.
It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take. 
The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.
You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.
“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”
Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.
His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you. 
You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him. 
You’re fucked.
Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs. 
“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing. 
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”
You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.
“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.
“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says. 
You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away. 
His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.
He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk. 
“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe. 
Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows. 
“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle. 
Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?
“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.
“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”
It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”
His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”
“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”
“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”
You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”
“Oh.”
“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”
If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you. 
Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.
“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asks. 
You shake your head. “No.”
“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”
“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.
Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked. 
Your hands slip from his waist. 
“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.
“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”
The line isn’t long.  You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep. 
“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter. 
You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all. 
Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.
You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.
“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does. 
He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.
Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.
“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks. 
He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”
“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.
“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”
“I like listening to your voice.”
When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him. 
“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.
You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”
“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”
You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.
“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”
Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life. 
A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.
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Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred
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j-oneseungz · 5 months
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"best friend" | kim seungmin
genre: arranged marriage au, angst + a dash of fluff, hurt/comfort
warning(s): mention of death, grief
word count: 698
...
Something about the downpour further deepens the grief you’ve been holding in your heart. After your nana passed away, the grief kept on growing and growing like a vicious avalanche with each passing day.The casket had been lowered and it was your turn to drop a white rose on it. It was her favorite. You remember all those times she would trim away the thorns and pluck out the pointy leaves just so she can tuck it in behind your ear. Oh how cruel it is how beautiful times disappear. 
Your legs felt heavy, almost as if they were hesitating for you to say a one last goodbye to your grandmother. But you had to stay strong. You have to do it for nana to honor her.
It was brief yet such a small moment seemed so long. Your white rose drops on top of the other white roses. As you were observing it, it seemed like it was falling in slow motion. Others went back to the crowd but you were stunned at your place. You can’t help but start crying in the rain. Tears were commingling along with rain droplets on your face. Your black dress was starting to soak. The wail you let out was just heartbreaking. Everyone knew how you were very close to your grandmother.
The rain somehow stopped pouring on you. A familiar presence next to you holds an umbrella, protecting both of you from the downpour. You looked to see who it was and it was your husband.
Seungmin’s heart broke, seeing how devastated you looked. He took out a handkerchief in his pocket and he gently wiped away your tears and the rain off your face. He takes your hand, and guides you away from the people.
He lets you wail. He lets you cry on his shoulders. He lets you let out the pain and heartache you’ve been feeling. Being your husband and close confidant, he never judges you for whatever it is that you feel. That’s something you were always grateful for from him.
Seungmin lets you take your time. You both left early and now you have reached your home.
“I think you should take a sh—”
And suddenly, you gave him the biggest hug yet. “Thank you Min. I really can’t thank you enough for today.”
He chuckles a little. “Don’t worry about it. We’re a team, remember?”
You nod, feeling warm inside. Not just because of your hidden feelings for him but just how much he cares for you. You couldn’t imagine being married to anyone else despite his heart belonging to someone else. 
“You know what, instead of a shower, I’m just gonna prepare you a hot bath instead. Would that be alright?”
“Yes of course. Thank you best friend.”
“Best friend? That’s new. I sure hope Hyunjin is not gonna kill me when he finds out you have a new best friend,” he jokes.
Seungmin noticed you haven’t had a good laugh for a while until this moment. Your tummy was aching and you were letting out tears of joy rather than tears of grief. He always finds a way to cheer you up in the simplest things. “There’s nothing wrong with having two best friends, Minnie.”
He laughs along, holding your hands to warm them up. “Okay okay. Now let me get your bath ready. I’ll be back in a bit. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“And Y/N.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m here for you okay. You’re not alone.”
Seungmin then heads upstairs to the master bathroom. You’re thankful to have such a caring husband even if he wasn’t in love with you. Even if he was already happy and in love with someone else. It’s alright.
No matter how much you push away your feelings for him, you can’t help but admit that you are deeply smitten by him. Not wanting to jeopardize your arrangement, you’d rather swallow your pride and feelings deep inside the thoughts that Seungmin won’t be able to find and explore.
It’s alright. It’s okay. What matters to you is keeping your bond with him for as long as you can. Even if it may be selfish on your part.
...
A/N: Hello! Man I wasn't able to get some stuff out over break and now it's back to school. Hopefully can still post some stories despite my busy schedule. There is a high likeliness that this drabble will be turned into a full fic :D
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alastxrs · 2 days
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𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞
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Y/N uses He/Him pronouns.
He has no devil fruit powers.
Y/N is very strong though.
Same age as Ace.
❝𝐀𝐂𝐄!❞
Arms were wrapped around the Second Commander and a smile formed on his lips when he recognized the other man's voice, he turned around in the hug and wrapped his arms around the man.
"Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!"
The (H/C) haired man grinned and leaned down to gently kiss him on the cheek. "I'm happy you're back!" he spoke softly. "How was the mission?"
The raven-haired man was so happy his boyfriend asked and went on a ramble while the two of them made their way toward the kitchen to get something to eat, Y/N had figured his lover wanted something to eat.
Y/N was just listening to his boyfriend even while they grabbed food.
Ace's eyes sparkled with joy as he held Y/N close, relishing the warmth and comfort of his embrace. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I missed you," he said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. He felt a soft kiss on his cheek and couldn't help but grin even wider.
Ace continued to ramble on as they grabbed food, recounting every detail of the mission with animated gestures. "And you wouldn't believe the size of the waves we had to sail through! But Marco was incredible, as always. And then there was this huge battle..." His voice trailed off for a moment, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "We lost some good people. But their sacrifice won’t be in vain. I promise that."
Y/N listened attentively, nodding and offering reassuring smiles as Ace spoke. He handed Ace a plate of food, knowing how much his boyfriend must be starving after such an ordeal. "I'm so proud of you, Ace," Y/N said softly, his eyes filled with admiration. "And I'm glad you're back safe. We’ll honor those we lost by living our best lives and fighting even harder. For now, let's eat and enjoy this moment together."
Ace nodded, his heart warmed by Y/N's words. "Yeah, you're right. Let's enjoy this. It's good to be home." He squeezed Y/N's hand, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time, grateful for the love and support that awaited him.
The Second Commander, the second they sat down to eat, quickly ate all of the food which didn't surprise any of the crew members.
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WARNING- Master kink, Ace calling Y/N Sir, Choking
Ever since Fire Fist Ace's return, the (H/C) haired man and he have been inseparable.
They stood by each other, not wanting to be separate from each other.
This is what happened every time one of the two went on missions.
They could barely keep themselves apart.
Y/N wanted his boyfriend's warmth since his body was hotter than his and Ace wanted to be with his lover to catch up on what he had been missing.
And if the two ran off to their room for private purposes, nobody spoke a word.
Ace leaned up, kissing him softly on the lips before breaking the kiss. "Well then, Sir, I think you should show me how much you miss me, huh?" He grinned happily, beginning to remove the other man's jacket.
This was their time to be alone and he was happy about it.
Y/N kissed back needly for the shorter man's touch as he bit the bottom of his lip when he saw his jacket get taken off- the (H/C) haired man automatically pinned him against the wall kissing him again then he worked off the other's shorts. " Oh, I'll show you." He mumbled against the other's lips.
The taller man leaned into the kiss but he began to kiss the raven-haired male's neck as he then pushed the smaller onto the bed and got on top of him, the (H/C) haired male missed him so much as he refused to let him go.
Ace's widened his eyes when he fell against the mattress. Chuckling softly as he sat up some.
Pulling Y/N back in so the fireman could keep kissing his jaw like a good little brat. His palms pressed up against his chest to feel out the new ridges his boyfriend had as he looked up at him.
" Fuck I've missed you…" Ace muttered as he began to kiss the other's neck leaving a lot of hickeys on him, the smaller male began to take off the tallerd close though he would never admit that he missed the clingy brat a lot but all he could think about was his boyfriend.
The ravenette rolled his hips up against him. "Baby.." he whispered out needily. His arms around his neck as he shuddered when he felt his body become bare. So he reached down and stroked himself up. His legs rubbed against each other. Making himself look desperate on purpose.
Y/N took off all of his clothes once Ace's underwear was removed, the (H/C) haired man kissed him on the lips then he began kissing his neck again licking the dark hickeys he made. He took the other's hand away and began stroking the man's cock.
Ace whined in protest when his hand was taken away, he pressed against Y/N's hand now. Taking a deep breath as he moaned and kissed him back. Then felt the lips on his neck. Before feeling a bit bratty he sat up and rubbed against his boyfriend. Attempting to flip them.
The taller man automatically stayed on top and pinned his boyfriend's hands above his head, he kept kissing him as he kept stroking the taller male refusing to let the other brat.
"Be a good boy or I won't let you cum." He growled when he moved to the other's ear.
The ravenette struggled against the pin, though he shuddered heading the growl and slowed down some. Whimpering some more, "Sir." He pleaded. Hooking his legs around his waist and pushing against his body. Wanting to touch and fight his Master some more.
" Only good boys get to touch their Master, are you a good boy?" Y/N said as he began to thrust into Ace without a warning as he made sure he thrusted fast and harder, he wanted to make it rough.
The Fire Fist gasped, not being able to get in a word when his boyfriend thrusted. He wiggled and moaned and whined under him. Not prepared penetration. "Y-Yes Sir." He begged softly. Wanting to feel his lover. Though he wanted to see if he could push the other man.
The taller man kissed the smaller on the lips and began thrusting in the other faster, the (H/C) haired male was going to make his boyfriend feel as if he liked seeing the look on the other's face while he was fucking him. "Such a pretty boy~ too bad you're a brat." He said in the smaller's ear nibbling on the hickeys he had created.
"You- you like it.." Ace managed to get out between moans. A hue of red covering his face being called pretty. His eyes rolled back some in pleasure as his legs began to shake. He then tried again, his hands against his chest as he tried to flip them over so he could be on top of his lover.
" Baby~ you aren't wrong but I love it when you are a good boy~," Y/N said as he didn't move when his pretty lover tried to flip them since he wasn't going to let his brat try and top him yet, the male then whispered in his ear. " be a good boy and you can top me next round~" he continued to thrust in the other knowing he liked it.
Ace wanted to ride him but Y/N was making it so difficult to flip.
He scoffed, gritting his teeth as he held back his moans. Not letting his lover hear him as tears brimmed his eyes from the sheer effort of holding back the pleasure. He suddenly and masterfully stopped Y/N's thrusting to be a brat. "Let me ride." He tried to bargain with his daddy.
The (H/C) haired man put a hand to the other man's throat as he glared at him, the male didn't want to let the other have any control over who was on top and he wanted to fuck the other long enough so only he knew his name. " Baby boy." He growled as he moved his one hand to his throat.
The dark-haired man took a deep breath when a hand was on his throat. Now that was exciting. He shifted under him, eyeing his boyfriend "Sir." He said back. Sass in his voice as he lifted his hands to cup his face. A challenge. He wanted Y/N to really force him into submission. Remind him who he belonged to. "Guess it's been a while since someone tried to control me."
The (H/C) haired man squeezes the other's neck as he didn't like that Ace was being a brat because he wanted to fuck him- the taller male grabbed the other's wrists with his other hand and pinned them above the other. "Baby boy." He growled. "I'm your Master, keep being a brat and I won't give you anything."
The shorter man panted, still trying to catch his breath but when his throat was squeezed he felt his face turn red with excitement. A playful grin on his face yet he whined gently when he was threatened to not get anything. Attempting to sit up against his hand to kiss his boyfriend's lips. "Sir~" he sang against his lips. Being a tease.
Y/N kept Ace down against the bed and he began to thrust in the smaller again but faster, he kept a tight grip on the other's throat but it was enough for him to breathe, the male kissed him but pulled away after that. " Brats don't get their Master's kisses."
The Second Commander tipped his head back, shaking and moaning underneath him as his partner started to thrust again. "F-fuck.." he managed to get out, drill dribbling from his lips as the other railed into him.
He seemed to whine even more when Y/N broke their kiss. "Well, then Master's brat doesn't w-want to behave." Ace thrived on those kisses. He tugged against Y/N's hands, trying to break free but once too much pleasure came he stopped complaining and fighting. Only able to moan and let his Master use his body like the good boy he could actually be.
Y/N grinned when he noticed his brat was behaving so he kissed the smaller male while he continued to rail him faster and rougher, and the smaller decided to let go of his hands and stroke the other's cock. He was thinking of overstimulating his baby boy.
Ace shut his eyes and kissed his back. Once his wrists were free, he didn't move them for a while then wrapped them around his neck to keep his Master close. His nail dug into Y/N's back and leaving fine lines on his skin. His back arches up into him. "Fuck.." he mumbled again, precum leaking from his tip as he tried to hold back his high. Shaking from head to toe and tears brimmed his eyes. The pleasure overwhelmed the poor boy.
" Such a good boy for his Master, arent you~ I'm going to fuck you so good baby boy~," The (H/C) haired male said against his lips as he didn't stop stroking or fucking the taller boy even though he was getting close to cumming, the taller male loved seeing the tears on his face as he looked down at him. " such a pretty slut I have, you're gonna be a good whore while I fuck you more?"
Ace whined, nodding his head to what his daddy said. Tears went down his face as he moaned into him. "Y-yes Sir.." he whispered out. His entire body shook and he could hardly focus on his Master completely. He held onto him, his nails digging into his shoulders.
The shorter male would let him fuck him round and round again. Currently, he was trying to not cum until his boyfriend gave him permission.
Y/N didn't mind the marks on his back because he liked any of them due to Ace being the one who made them on him, the (H/C) haired male soon cummed inside of the other but he didn't stop thrusting in him yet. " You can cum baby~," he said, it wasn't over yet since he wanted to mark every part of the others body.
Ace shuddered feeling the cum and his body still shook with each thrust. He soon released as well and cummed in his stomach. Panting as he stared at the beautiful man in front of him. His eyes glossed slightly as he watched his lover. "Sir..." he smiled, hugging him close. Kissing his forehead happily.
" Fuck- I've missed everything about you, Ace!" Y/N said as he kissed him on the cheek but kept the dark-haired male close to him.
"I was only gone for a couple of weeks-"
"Shut up, I missed you is the thing."
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paradoxicwashere · 10 months
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My Fallout 4 Story: Eric Morgue
So, Fallout 4's story isn't the greatest - I don't think it's unfair to say. But over the past two years I've played it as one character for hundreds of hours now. I've done all the DLC, and short of finishing all my settlements, there is nothing else to do.
In this playthrough through a bit of headcannoning and planning I crafted my own version of Fallout 4's story that left me feeling fulfilled and I wanted to share that story here.
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Meet Eric, Eric Morgue. Before the war he was a Marksman in the Alaska Campaign and was honorably discharged. Like many Sole Survivors he was happy and at peace with his life in Sanctuary Hills until the skies opened with hellfire and Vault-Tec offered a helping hand.
Exiting the vault, Eric was broken. The world reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. He wasn't in a state to help people, the Minutemen turned to him as a savior but he turned their back on them. He'd already filled the hole in his chest with something, revenge.
He was a soldier, a scout, tracking was in his nature. He stalked the man who stole his son from him across the breadth of the Commonwealth. There wouldn't be any stopping until Kellogg was in the ground. The one faction he did find solace in was the Brotherhood of Steel.
It was militarized, disciplined, familiar. As familiar a feeling as Eric could find in this godsforsaken Commonwealth. It seemed as if he'd never recreate the home he had once, but the lifestyle of a soldier? The Brotherhood could give that back to him.
(I wish I had a screenshot of Eric at this point in the story but alas)
He finds comfort in Danse and all seems well. He divides his time between serving the Brotherhood and searching for Shaun and Kellogg. But as time progresses he begins to see the Commonwealth in a new light. The Brotherhood sees so much of the Commonwealth as filth, but especially working with Nick Valentine, the most honest man Eric's met so far in truth - he can't help but empathies with the struggling populace.
So, Eric's priorities shift. He's still searching for Shaun and working with the Brotherhood, but now he goes back to the Minutemen. He won't lead them, but he is helping them. But his heart is still torn between helping people and revenge, so the time is nigh, Eric finds Kellogg. Shockingly to none except Eric - this does very little to bring Eric peace. It only re-opens the gaping wound in his heart, frozen over from how long revenge dwelled within him, now as empty as ever.
At this point, while he still works with the Brotherhood, a wedge has begun to grow between Eric and Maxson. Eric meets more good people in the Commonwealth, like Hancock, Nick Valentine, the ghouls at the Slog, even Strong and Virgil showing that there's more to Super-Mutants than the Brotherhood would have you believe. So when opportunity to get to the Institute presents itself after so long on the hunt - Eric goes it alone, working with the Minutemen to do it. But to do that, he formally accepts the mantle of General and begins helping the Minutemen rebuild the Castle.
(It should be mentioned that while Eric began a working relationship with the Railroad, it was far too early in their partnership to trust them with the first expedition to the Institute)
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Eric ventures into the silicon halls of the Institute and it's like stepping back in time and into the future all at once. Pristine, organized... lifeless. It disgusts him initially of course, the thought that these people could build a monument to perfection and abuse the topside to achieve their paradise. But then, he finds Shaun. His son, the leader of the Institute. And now Eric is torn in another two directions. He's made promises to the surface and even has begun to adjust to living there, but now the shadowy boogey-men that have been causing so much strife are led by the Son he's done everything for. For the last token of his old life he has left.
Eric can't decide, so he keeps playing all sides. On the surface, he meets Cait - and together they do a lot to mend each other's broken souls. Only driving the wedge tearing Eric between Shaun and the Commonwealth even further. Not knowing what to do, Eric does what he's always done. He falls back on his training. He goes back to the Brotherhood. He kept his head down and followed Maxson's orders. He figured he could save his son if it came to that.
The worst issue though was feeling like he couldn't confide in anyone. Not Danse, not Nick, not even Cait or Codsworth. Afraid of what anyone might say, afraid of things he knew deep down was true being brought to light, Eric carried the burden alone. Liberty Prime was nearly built when push finally came to shove.
Paladin Danse, the man who in many ways saved Eric from his despair and gave him the tools to face the Commonwealth like a soldier - had been a Synth all along and not even Danse knew it. Maxson gave Eric the kill order of course. A test of Eric's mettle after the aforementioned wedge that was driven between the Knight and his Elder had grown wider. Prove your loyalty to the Brotherhood, or do not return.
Danse wanted him to do it, Maxson wanted him to do it. The Soldier inside Eric wanted him to do it. But he couldn't. The man who saved him when he had nothing needed his help, so Eric pulled Danse out of the cage Danse had built for himself, shook him off and helped him face his reality with new-found vigor. Man or Machine, he'd been a good friend to Eric, and that meant more to Eric than Danse knew.
Maxson was furious of course, but Eric wasn't playing games and talked Maxson out of killing Danse, he would've fought him for it if he had to. Eric brought Danse to the Minutemen who welcomed him with open arms. He now serves at the Castle, clad in royal blue T-51 Power Armour, unofficially known as The new Sarge. Danse gave Eric purpose, now Eric had paid him back.
He wasn't kicked out of the Brotherhood like Danse, but Eric couldn't help them finish their war machine. He realized that the Brotherhood controlling the Commonwealth would lead to good, innocent people being treated like monsters for circumstances out of their control. Nick would be thrown out of Diamond City, the Slog would be wiped out, Strong would be hunted down. He couldn't stand by and let that happen.
Eric returned to Shaun's side and tried to see things from their point of view. Maybe, if he could just convince Shaun, things could start to change for the better. But at every turn he saw Synths be treated like property - and he would think back to Danse, and Nick. Or the medical marvels he saw here being horded by people who would never encounter half the hardships the average man in the commonwealth went through in a year. MacCready's son or Cait could've been cured of their ailments overnight if the Institute just turned their attention to the surface. The more Eric interacted with Shaun the less of himself and Nora he saw in the cold, cruel, calculating Director. He was his flesh and blood, but the two couldn't have been less alike.
So, still not exactly the most decisive, Eric got back in contact with the Railroad. He began working both alongside the Institute and the Railroad at the same time. The Railroad welcomed him under the alias Sharpshooter and shared a common interest in the protection of Synth life. Eric knew their goals were narrow and exhausted himself making sure the Minutemen picked up the slack making the Commonwealth better for everyone, not just Synths.
This all came to a head at the Battle of Bunker Hill. The Institute brought an onslaught. The railroad were on the backfoot, low on man power, struggling to remain standing as the Brotherhood brought on their own attack. Eric was their on the side of the Institute and slipped through the battlefield like a ghost. The conflict horrified him. He called in the Minutemen to provide aid to the survivors but couldn't intervene himself if he didn't want to blow his cover. It killed him, and all for what? He slipped inside with a Courser at his side and was met with his goal: Five synths. Five people he'd worked with the Railroad to protect. It wasn't so hard when it was a blood-thirsty raider he'd been sent to recall but these five? They were innocent, and they recognized him. They knew he was Sharpshooter and they almost blew his cover. The courser grew suspicious. Tensions were rising and Eric had to do something.
So he did, he finally made a choice.
The Courser didn't even have time to draw his weapon. Eric killed him and told the Synths to flee. The mission was a bust, the Railroad had to evacuate and the Brotherhood ended up with control over Bunker Hill. And Eric was told to meet Shaun, meet Father, at the top of the C.I.T ruins.
Finally, Eric hoped he could talk to Shaun outside the influence of the Institute's Halls, he could show him the Commonwealth. Instead he found Father stood atop an old world monument to the Institute's Ideology. Far away from the reality of the Commonwealth with a legion of mechanical muscle patrolling the halls beneath him like circling Sharks. Shaun had no interest in the Commonwealth. He looked down on it for the first time from an Ivory Tower, away from the dangers and the life that dwelled below. He wasn't just influenced by the Institute's ideology. Shaun WAS the Institute's Ideology. Everything Eric struggled with in the Institute was a direct result of Shaun, and the Father before Shaun, and the Father before him. Shaun stopped being his son years ago, Eric just hadn't realized it yet. Shaun was Father, and Eric would have no part in his experiment any longer.
Eric's cover was blown of course, the Railroad were pissed but there was still hope. There was still another way. The Minutemen. Over the course of his stay in the Commonwealth Eric had built up a working man's militia that spread the breadth of the Commonwealth. More organized than the Railroad, more just than the Brotherhood, and more alive than the Institute. Father knew this and sent everything he had to bring down Eric's forces.
Synths marched on the Castle but the Minutemen stand united. His heart no longer being pulled apart Eric lead the defense of the Castle alongside Sargent Danse, Preston Garvey, and every other man and woman brave enough to carry the Musket.
The Institute didn't know what hit them. A light show of red and blue laser fire lit up the skies that night. The Brotherhood took note but Maxson held off on providing any aid. The war was tough and the costs ran deep but with perseverance and the fear of losing to steady their aim. The Minutemen pulled through. And they wanted payback.
Eric, Danse, and Dogmeat led the charge on the Institute and opened the gates to let the Minutemen storm the proverbial castle. The Institute's white walls were coated with blood and oil. The oppressor's were on the run and the oppressed were able to free themselves. Everyone was free to live and die as they chose. Except one. Except Father.
Father was sick, maybe in his arrogance, that one trip to the surface had ambushed his under-developed immune system or maybe it was just his time, but Father was dying. Eric confronted his son on his death bed and it was like having his heart torn out all over again. They spoke and while they couldn't see eye to eye. Eric finally got through to him, just for a moment - and the last order given by the director of the Institute was the evacuation order. Freedom rang.
The Institute was no more. With a detonation that shock the Commonwealth both literally and figuratively forever. The Terror of the Institute was over. All was well. But Eric? Something broke in Eric having to leave his son to die. And it would be a long time until he was okay again.
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And that's where I'm going to stop for now. Weaving Eric into the Fallout 4 story was a fantastic experience for me and Eric's story continued into all three DLC's. I'm going to write up what happens from Level 85 to Level 135 at some point but this post is already very long. If you read all of this I hope you enjoyed :)
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