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#i'm tired and and bored and i will maybe make this into some kind of fic later
drdemonprince · 1 day
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Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.
Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.
I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.
I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.
transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.
if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.
ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.
maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.
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threadmonster · 11 months
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Please Consider: how godawful miserable Dazai would be if Chuuya forgot about him. How painful that would be.
In Beast you have this AU Dazai who knows everything and is willing to be the worst and be forgotten so that there's a version of Odasaku that gets to live and write his novel.
That's Oda though (and in the AU too).
Chuuya? That's an entirely different relationship. They're partners. They trust each other. They're equals. Chuuya even still has a list of the women Dazai had wronged in the past.
I headcanon that Dazai would hate being forgotten in general but he doesn't rule out being forgotten by the people around him. He couldn't just rule that out and that's fine. He probably couldn't rule out the possibility of Chuuya forgetting him either, but I think canon is showing that he is confident that Chuuya wouldn't.
I don't think he would ever make a choice that lead to that. He'd make all the calculations to have both. It would be easier if one or both of them died.
A world without Chuuya at all is better than if Chuuya looked him dead in the eye and didn't recognize him at all.
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steddiealltheway · 2 months
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It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))
Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.
There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)
Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).
But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-
Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.
The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.
And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???
He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.
Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.
During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.
Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.
It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…
Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.
There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.
Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.
He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.
Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.
Wait.
Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.
“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.
Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?
Absolutely. He can do this.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"Robin, I can't do this."
Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."
"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."
"Uh huh."
Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"
"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."
Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."
"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.
Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.
Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."
"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.
Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."
Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."
A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.
"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.
Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.
Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"
Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.
He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.
When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.
Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.
"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...
Oh.
Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.
Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.
He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.
"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.
Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.
Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."
Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"
Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.
"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.
"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.
Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.
"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."
Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."
"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."
"Since when do we-"
"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."
Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"
"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"
Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."
"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."
"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."
Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"
Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."
Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."
Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."
"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.
"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.
Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.
"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."
Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."
Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."
Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"
Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.
"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."
Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.
Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.
"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.
"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.
"Steve," Eddie says softly.
Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.
"Steve," Eddie tries again.
And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.
"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.
Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.
"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.
Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.
"Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.
Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.
Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.
After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"
Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.
Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"
"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.
Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.
Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.
"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"
"No," Steve says honestly.
Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"
"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.
"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"
"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.
Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.
Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"
"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"
Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"
"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.
"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.
Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.
"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.
"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.
Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"
"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."
"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.
Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.
"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.
"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."
Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."
Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.
Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.
"Steve, please don't."
Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.
Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?
Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.
Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.
Eddie: Please shut up.
Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.
Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.
Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.
Eddie: Next question, please.
Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."
Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"
Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."
It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"
Eddie's head pops up. "What?"
Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."
"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.
Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."
"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.
Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.
"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.
Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."
"Why?"
"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too," Steve replies.
They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.
"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.
"Robin was right."
Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"
"Never," Steve answers simply.
They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.
"What are you thinking about?"
Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.
"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.
And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.
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mirohlayo · 8 days
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Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.
Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.
Thank you so much xxx
P.S. Love you writing
Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡
DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )
warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff
note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry
word count : 1.3k
It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.
As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.
You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.
The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.
You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.
After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.
Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.
“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.
You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."
“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.
"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.
“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.
“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.
In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.
“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.
"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.
“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.
It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.
“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.
“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.
They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.
It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.
In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.
And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”
And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...
yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️
view comments
danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁
⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead
⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜
user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense
user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww
⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best
⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier
⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠
landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔
⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥
⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you
charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️
georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit
⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱
user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!
965 notes · View notes
noxtivagus · 2 years
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UWAHH TEASING MY FRIENDS IS SO FUN
#🌙.rambles#i love their reactions sm when i make playful comments or tease them abt smth#like yeah last night an irl asked me some advice n stuff bcs she n this other friend r gna meet irl soon#(hopefully) bcs it depends on their parents as well if they'd allow bcs they never met irl before wahh#i feel like an overseer of romances....#T_T y do ppl go to me for advice i am so bad at social stuff .#wah i rmber last night she was telling me abt how he flirts w her n god they're so cute 🥺#i wish i had the courage to . idk flirt more or smth ;;;#but i only have the courage to do it purely platonically bcs i will never give signs /if/ ever i like someone#i'm so bored rn goddamn#i rlly need to sleep earlier but i can't help it ;;;;#it's late at night that i really can let myself be most free#since it feels like time slows down. n w being tired after the whole day there's this irreplaceable reallness in the#vulnerability i guess that you can find in those hours?#a feeling that seems so familiar yet mysterious. a continuation of the night yesterday but never quite the same#n i cld easily lose myself in the comforting dark n silence of the night#oh my god what the fuck do i do rn i feel so overwhelmed again#i'm not typically the kind of person to be so openly /open/ like this i suppose but i've been so tired these days that there's this sort of#apathy? yeah. i'll write wtvr bs that comes in my head n i'll write. share then delete as if there was so trace left behind#the fleetingness of it is maybe smth that i find comfort in. a little comfort i can bring upon myself in this unpredictable world#im writing nonsense at this point oh my god i'm so bored but i can't bring myself to do anything#just wna hide ;;; but i have stuff to do i can't rest just yet
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lunaa007 · 2 months
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Astrology observations #3
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These are my personal observations and should be taken in the context of the whole chart, never isolated 😊
Some of this is 18+, no minors allowed
♦️Mars-Uranus aspects can indicate a liking for risky activities and extreme sports, like motorcycling or base jumping. They can even like to put themselves in danger as they need the adrenaline. Routine is super boring for them, they need to try new things very often. They should be careful to release this nervous energy with sports, work they're passionate about or things like that or it can backfire. This aspect can be tempered down with Saturn aspects or a lot of earth energy in the chart.
♦️Venus square mars aspect: can often be mean to the person they like, classic "if he pulled your hair it's because he likes you" stuff. Can be very passionate, might have difficulty to separate feelings from lust. They might have talent for artistic sports like dancing or ice skating. For women, they might like a more sporty fashion style.
♦️Sun-saturn aspects: especially for harsh ones, this can really change the expression of the sun sign. I know someone with sun and several planets in Leo, but they are all square to Saturn and you could never tell she's a Leo; she is very reserved, shy and restrained in life. But as with all Saturn aspects this can change with age, the personality coming through more and more while keeping an amazing sense of discipline, wisdom and grounding.
♦️Moon-uranus aspects: with harsh aspects (conjunction, square, opposition), the mother might have been emotionally cold during the childhood, and she might have been a bit erratic and unpredictable. This could have showed up as frequently moving places, or having a mother considered weird or crazy by society. With soft aspects like trine or sextile this could show up as an untraditional family, maybe having two fathers or two mothers, or parents very into technology, but this was not hard on the person and it helped them develop their individuality and independence.
♦️Taurus mercury: these people can learn much slower than other people (this does not mean they are not as intelligent, their rhythm is just different). At school they might have felt behind their schoolmates or felt like they didn't have enough time to finish their exams/homework. It is important that they don't feel bad about this and take the time they need to do their work. This might be less strong with Uranus influence on mercury. ♦️ Aquarius moon natals and their need to always read and watch self-development content without ever actually feeling their feelings 🙃
♦️ Venus conjunct moon: these people are so kind, they have such a big heart and do not wish harm on anyone, please stay mindful of who has access to you as many people might want to be in contact with this energy but sometimes also energy vampires.
♦️ Mercury conjunct/square pluto and their dark humor! I have this in my chart and one of my colleagues actually said to me three days after she started: "your jokes can be really dark sometimes" 😂 it gets worse when I'm tired as I don't filter my jokes so much before saying them. These aspects might also think a lot about death and dark themes, they can be the type to think "what happens if I die tomorrow", or "I could die if I do this" but not in a worried way, just thinking rationally about what is possible.
♦️ Leo mars women and their secret backup plan of becoming a stripper or an exotic dancer 💃 these women often have a talent for dancing, and performing can make them feel desired and confident.
♦️ Aries moon/mars placements and their road rage! Both my parents have these placements and my god the number of stressful rides to school I had when I was a child 😂 this can also apply to the other fire mars.
♦️ Lilith conjunct ascendant: these people often provoke reactions everywhere they go, they rarely go unnoticed whether it is positive reactions or negative. The women with this aspect might get sexualised a lot, and the men with this aspect might attract animosity from other men. ♦️ Sun-jupiter and moon-jupiter aspects: they might always see the bright side of things, "it will get better", "this is temporary", seeing the glass half-full. A lot of optimism, faith in a higher meaning, maybe too optimistic sometimes and too trusting that things will unfold in the right way.
♦️Mars square pluto women often attract creepy men on the street, interactions with aggressive men might be unfortunately common. It is important to not repress their anger and channel their power in something like martial arts.
♦️Gemini moon/IC: they might love to talk with their loved ones at home, a lot of communication and learning in their private life. If they live alone they might be a lot on the phone or always have music or tv or radio on.
♦️Mercury square saturn: they might doubt their intellectual abilities when young, their learning style might not fit the classic school system. It is important that they are encouraged by their family, and with time they will gain confidence and master the learning techniques that fit them best.
♦️Mars in virgo might care too much about pleasing their partner in bed and have a hard time receiving pleasure without giving anything. They might also feel self-conscious if they do not feel "clean" like not fresh out of the shower. It is important for them to practice letting go of their thoughts and doubts and be present in their body. They deserve pleasure as much as everybody else!
♦️ Jupiter in the 2nd house might have a very good self-esteem, if the moon and venus are not too afflicted. And if it is the case it helps the native deal with the harder aspects.
♦️ That's why it is so dangerous to interpret an  aspect in isolation of the rest of the chart, a challenging aspect might be very beneficial in a chart and less in another one. For instance moon conjunct saturn might be more challenging for a Capricorn moon which is already quite controled and closed off, but in the sign of Aries it might help the native tame their impulsivity and control better their emotions. 
♦️ Or moon square Uranus might be beneficial for a Capricorn moon or a Taurus moon as it might help them break out of their routine and become more adaptable and flexible to change.
Thank you for reading!
@lunaa007
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literaila · 2 months
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admissions
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: it's midnight and satoru's bored
warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety, and gojo <3
a/n: angst tomorrow?
last part | next part
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*
second year, month five.
you're sitting on your bed, reading through an old textbook that nanami gave you (for some indiscernible reason) when there's a knock on your door. 
pounding, actually. it shakes the walls and makes you jump. 
there's a distant chuckle from the other side of the door. 
no one really comes to check in on you, so this is unusual. even after living at jujutsu high for four months, you're finding it difficult to fit in. 
maybe it's the fact that you were a month late to join your classmates, maybe it's because you find yourself pushing any available person away (because of fear, or insanity, or...), or maybe it's just that you can't relate to anyone for the life of you. 
but, either way, the last person to knock on your door was yaga, who came to wake you up to go out on your second day here. 
and, it's midnight, so unless someone's dying-- 
you sigh, shaking your hair out of your face. your eyes burn from staring at the small text for so long, so you rub them, hoping that you fell asleep and this is a dream. 
it's not, apparently, because there's a second knock, much louder than the first. so you reluctantly get up and go to the door. 
you try to tip-toe across the floors, hoping that the person hellbent on speaking to you can't hear you creeping up to the peephole. 
"let me in," someone says because they have any right to demand anything of you. 
you cross your arms like he can see you, and wait. 
"y/n?" gojo whines, and there's a thud as he slumps against the door. you can almost hear him breathing. "please. it's important." 
you wait another moment, for an explanation (which is unlikely) or for him to leave (which won't happen). you should've pretended to be asleep. then, after you realize he's going to wait, you sigh and unlock the door. 
and when you open it, gojo falls right on top of you. 
"ugh," you say, pushing him off, not caring about the two seconds it takes him to regain his balance. "you're heavy." 
" i work out. i'm made of muscle." 
you roll your eyes. "what do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. you make sure not to open the door all of the way. lord knows that gojo has a way of slipping through the cracks. 
"no one else is around," he whines, "and i'm bored." 
"okay? go step on some ants or burn down your room or something. i'm going to bed." 
you should be nicer to your classmates--the people whom you literally entrust your life with--but you can't help your hard exterior. at least you know that no one will be able to break through it if you don't let them. 
and plus, gojo kind of annoys you (and is maybe, a little bit, amusing).
gojo looks you up and down with a brow raised. how you're able to see him from behind his ridiculous sunglasses, who knows. 
he's clearly questioning your outfit and the shoes you're still wearing inside your room. it was a mistake to stay in your uniform. 
"you don't look very tired," he says, smiling at you. his face is unwrinkled and youthful. he looks like a boy and acts like a child. 
"you're terrible at reading people." 
"hey, no i'm not. i can tell you want to hang out with me." 
"can you?" 
"mm-hmm," he hums, grinning as he tries to lean forward, into your room. 
"where's suguru?" 
he gives you a skeptical look. "why do you wanna know?" 
you snort. "cause usually you'd be bothering him." 
"oh," he grins, undeterred by your insult, "he went to see his family." 
you frown. "oh." 
"and before you ask, shoko said that she's tired of me," he pouts a bit, but behind his notorious smile. gojo is an illusion of expressions. you've never seen anybody's face move so quickly, or shift so subtly. "now can i come in?" 
you weigh the cost and benefits of allowing satoru gojo to intrude on your saturday night, and how likely you'll be subjected to him in the future. (is he going to damage you if you let him in? are you going to let him break you?).
but he's leaning down so you can see the tips of his lashes, and he's smiling like he already knows your answer. 
so you sigh, hesitantly, and open the door a bit more. "don't touch any of my stuff." 
"wow," gojo says as he walks in, by-stepping you and ignoring the glare you shoot his way. "you're a terrible decorator." 
he's right. you haven't bothered to put anything up on the walls, even after almost half a year. a small part of you has been too worried that you won't be here for long. that you might die, or... 
"sorry it's not up to your standards," you roll your eyes, going back to sit on your bed and leaf through the stupid textbook again. "but, you know, luckily, you have your own room. i can show you where it is, if you forgot. we can go there now." 
"subtle," he says and messes with a couple of books on your shelf. you doubt he's going to pick one up and ruin it, so you ignore him. 
you could complain about him touching your things like you just told him not to, but it's probably not going to get you very far. plus, you don't want to say something he can laugh at. or something to make him leave. 
but after a moment, you can't help yourself. 
"why are you up, anyway?" you ask him, trying to sound more annoyed than you are. "didn't you have to leave early for a mission this morning?"
"are you keeping tabs on me?" 
"you were bragging about a 'solo' mission all through dinner last night. it was impossible not to overhear." 
gojo sighs. "i don't get a lot of sleep. it's too lonely." 
"i've heard some very interesting rumors about you and suguru's cuddling rituals." 
he grins but doesn't say anything, teasing you with just his eyes. 
after a second of it, you ask, "don't you have a family to go home to?" 
he turns to you, tilting his head, long fingers tapping along your appliances. "clans are more like... begrudged allies than families. i haven't seen my parents in..." he whistles, shaking his head. but it doesn't seem to bother him, because he shrugs after, and resumes his snooping. 
that... actually explains a lot. 
at least he's like the rest of you. 
gojo, abandoning your books--which he probably can't read--goes to sit down on your swivel chair, spinning around. "what about your family? don't you miss them?" 
you give him a tired look. "seriously? you think i don't know that you guys talk about me when i'm not around?" 
gojo bites his cheek, having the gull to not even blink, and then a reluctant smile makes its way to his lips. "who told you?" 
"haibara can't keep a secret to save his life. don't gossip around him anymore." 
he shakes his head, grinning at you again. gojo knows no shame. "well you started pretty late into the semester," he says, "that's not very typical." 
you roll your eyes. 
"so. not going home?" 
"i'm not welcome in my parent's house, anymore," you say, trying to act like the words mean nothing. you could be discussing your favorite color. "as i'm sure you know." 
"did they kick you out?" 
"do you really want to talk about this? it'll probably bore you." 
he shrugs. "nothing else to do." 
you sigh, shutting your textbook.
maybe it's because gojo doesn't seem to actually care, or because you've been alone all day--with lots of time to spend spewing over choices that weren't yours. either way, the words make their way to your lips before you can stop them.  
"both of my parents pretty much ignored me as soon as i turned ten and started having nightmares about the monsters i was seeing around our house," you shake your head, swallowing, "and after yaga scouted me this year, they decided i'd probably be better off with 'people like me.' so, no, i'm not going home. i'm sure they've already moved." 
gojo stares at you like he's trying to discern if you're telling the truth or not. 
you probably shouldn't have said anything. but it's not your fault that no one's had the guts to ask before him, or that you've been dying to talk about it. 
you roll your eyes. "satisfied, gojo?" 
"satoru," he says, grinning. "anyone who's got a clear attitude problem gets to call me by my first name." 
"did your 'begrudged allies' forget to teach you manners?"
he hums. "i think i skipped those lessons." 
you snort. 
you could thank him for not pitying you--for not saying a single thing about how you didn't deserve it, or that it isn't fair--but you don't. it doesn't feel necessary. 
"suguru's family is like that," he adds because this is a normal thing to discuss with an acquaintance you've hung out with once. "but he's too righteous to cut them off." 
"yeah, i don't have that issue." 
he laughs, spinning around again. then he stands up and plops down on your bed, unwarranted, taking off his glasses so he can lie on his side. 
and then he sits there, staring at you. 
it only takes thirty seconds for you to break. 
"did someone surgically implant diamonds into your eyes?" you demand, kicking his foot away from yours. his body is warm against yours, and it makes you wonder if he's got a fever. 
he would come and bother you just to get you sick. 
"these are all-natural, sweetheart," he whispers, fluttering his lashes. he doesn't look away for a moment. his eyes are prettier up close, you suppose, when you can see them in their full glory. they look less alien, somehow less intense. 
"what are the glasses for anyway?" 
"try 'em on." 
he hands them to you, grinning like he knows something you don't, and you take them--maybe just so you can smudge the lens. 
they are surprisingly light, and warm. you put them over your eyes, blinking. 
"oh, are you clinically blind?" you ask, feeling slightly bad for bringing it up. he's probably going to pull your hair and lock you in your room now. 
satoru snorts. "no, i just don't need to see, unlike some people." 
"...was that supposed to be a brag?" 
you take off the glasses, wincing at the light. then you hand them back to him, tingling skin where your fingers brush his. 
"it would drain my cursed energy if i didn't wear them," he says, "'cause i see a lot more than you do." 
"okay? so it’s not to keep people from screaming when they see you?”
he pinches your thigh in retaliation, scoffing. “i am beautiful.”
he shakes his head, but leaves the glasses off, setting them on his stomach, and closing his eyes. one hand travels to the top of his head, as he relaxes into your bed. 
you'll probably need to wash the sheets after this. 
"hey," you say after he's been still for a minute. "satoru. you can't fall asleep here. i thought you wanted to be entertained."
"then entertain me." 
you roll your eyes, even though he's not looking. "i'm not your servant. go back to your room if you're just going to bed. i'm not cuddling with you." 
"i promise i'm good at it. ask suguru." 
"he's not here, so i can't." 
satoru sighs, opening his eyes again. "talk about something." 
"like what?" 
"uh... your favorite movie." 
"i don't watch a lot of movies." 
he sits up. "what?" he asks, genuinely shocked. 
you roll your eyes at him again. 
and, okay. despite his attitude, and his freaky eyes, you guess it is... nice, to be called upon. 
and as satoru sits there, talking to you about the most ridiculous of things, you feel settled in. unafraid of saying something wrong or pushing him away. 
it's good, you suppose, easy. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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rubra-wav · 2 months
Note
Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?
Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O
[Part 2]
A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries
My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha
I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.
CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)
Husk
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- Husk would not believe you at all at first.
- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.
- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.
- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.
- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.
- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.
- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.
- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.
- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.
- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.
- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.
- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.
- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.
- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.
- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.
- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.
- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.
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Angel Dust
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- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.
- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.
- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.
- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.
- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.
- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.
- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.
- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.
- "How." He whispers breathlessly.
- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.
- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.
- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.
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Alastor
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- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.
If he hasn't told you himself:
- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)
- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.
- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.
- "Who told you about that."
- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"
- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.
- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.
- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.
If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:
- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.
- You miss the way his eye twitches.
- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.
- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.
- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.
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A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now
(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)
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harlowhockeystick · 3 months
Note
hi!!!!! i was wondering if i could request the reader forgetting date night w rafe because she was jus so busy?? maybe like angst to fluff :))
february prompts | rafe cameron x reader | reader is kind of a ditz, please send more rafe i am down so bad
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the tick tock of the clock makes your mind go crazy. watching as time goes by, picking at your nails while you anxiously listen for the hum of his truck and the scratching of his tires against the gravel road outside of your house. anxiously waiting.
it wouldn't be the first time he was late, though. he'd been late a few times before, you got used to his bad habit. very rarely was he twenty-five minutes late. by now, you're sure that they already gave your table away to someone else. maybe if he shows up in the next ten minutes you can still make your movie, but you have doubts.
five more minutes, then i'll call.
four went by. you heard a familiar sound outside, but you turn around to see it's a truck pulling into your neighbors driveway.
three went by. you felt your phone buzz, but it was just an update from instagram.
two went by. one went by.
"hey rafey, what're you up to?" you ask nervously, staring at the clock that keeps mocking you with it's tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
he sighs on the other end of the line, "i'm still up here at work, why?" you bit your lip at a silly attempt to keep from crying. as soon as one tear fell more and more continued to fall.
"well, um, remember how we had reservations tonight? at that new place downtown?" you mention through tears and he hears it loud and clear. he almost drops his phone in anger and disappointment at himself. you hear him sigh and knock his fist against something a couple times.
"baby, i am so sorry," he whispers. you hear on the other side of the phone rafe shuffling a few things around, the jingling of keys and heavy footsteps.
"if you leave now i can meet you at the movie theater," you interrupted.
"what? no, no i'll pick you up. no need for you to drive all the way over there. i'll be at your place shortly," rafe quickly shut your idea down. he ended the phone call and you remained sat on the couch until he walked through your front door with the key you gave him.
he did just a few minutes later. rafe didn't greet you with a hug or a hello but instead he pressed his lips against your own and he placed his hands on your hips.
"i'm sorry sweetie, i got too distracted at work," he pulled away and tucked some hair behind your ear. it was always work that took him away from you. honestly you weren't even sure what rafe did for work. you knew that it had something to do with his dad, but he never told you what his exact job or title was. rafe just explained he works so that he can buy you all the things you want, take you to anywhere you want, and then some.
"c'mon lets go to the movies," he took your hand and walked with you out of the house. he reached up to tap the top doorframe of your front door and when he did his shirt rose up and you saw a gun tucked in the back of his pants, you gasped a little. what did he do for work that caused him to carry a gun with him?
rafe was a tough, almost scary man to some people. he was never scary to you, though. throughout the night he made up for him being late, getting a little handsy during the movie and going out for ice cream after, getting you as many scoops as you wanted.
"rafey," you asked while changing into your pajamas for the night, "what do you do for work again?" the question had been lingering all night in your head, you couldn't even focus on the movie because you kept wracking you brain. had he told you, and you just forgot? were you not paying attention when he told you?
"i told you sweetie, i just do boring stuff, stuff you wouldn't understand. i just make enough money so i can spoil you silly," he answered you coming up behind you and giving you a kiss in the curve of your neck.
"well, i saw your gun tucked in your pants. it kinda scared me, what do you do for work that makes you carry a gun?" rafes heart rate began to go up a little bit as he felt his cheeks get red.
"that's just precaution, lots of freaks out there." rafe kisses your cheek and pulls you back to the bedroom. he always keeps an extra pair of pajamas in your closet for the nights he stays over, which is often. "c'mon, let's go to bed."
he lets the hum of some documentary lull you to sleep in his arms. he takes a breath of relief, he doesn't know how much longer he can keep you oblivious.
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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months
Text
A Safe Way Out
Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)
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Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.
Word Count: ~3,384
Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language
Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.
Breech, Jonathan.
He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.
At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.
You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.
One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.
"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?
Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.
"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.
"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.
He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.
You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.
"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.
"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"
"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.
"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.
"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.
"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.
"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"
You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.
"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.
"Five weeks or five years?"
"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.
"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.
He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.
"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."
You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.
"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.
"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.
"Why do ya wanna die?"
He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.
"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"
He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.
"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."
"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.
"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"
You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.
"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.
He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.
"Mm, didja like that?"
Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.
"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.
You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.
"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.
"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.
"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.
After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.
"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.
"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.
"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.
He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.
"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.
"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"
You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.
He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.
"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.
Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.
"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.
Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.
You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.
"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.
"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.
"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.
Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.
"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.
He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.
He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.
Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.
"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.
"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.
"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.
"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.
"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.
You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.
The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.
"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.
"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.
"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.
"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.
"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.
"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"
You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.
"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.
"Say your prayers and sleep well."
With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.
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lilywastaken · 1 year
Text
⇝ together .
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.
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PART THREE OF MÉNAGE.
SUMMARY: A month after his return, you start warming up to Simon, only for him to ruin it.
WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Fluff for once, Angst, mild nsfw, mentions of child abuse and abuse in general, canon typical violence, choking (not in a sexy way).
A/N: Finally finished!! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to get this out sooner, these past weeks have just been chocked full of assignments I had to finish 😭 I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations!!! Please don't forget to reblog and leave a comment, it helps a lot!!
WORD COUNT: 9.2k
MASTERLIST.
If you want to be tagged on future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account! — @lilynottaken !
Also on Ao3!
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"'m blaming this on you."
You grumbled to Simon as you watched your son clap his hands against his father's, happy coos and gurgles leaving him.
"What?" He turned away from Tommy to look at you with a confused look, well, you assumed it was confused by the way his eyes were squinted. "How is this my fault?"
"He's copying you." You yawned, curling into the foetal position and pulling up the blanket over your body, head almost rolling off the sofa as you continued to pay attention to your son and his father's every movement. "You don't sleep so he doesn't."
"Not sure that's how his brain works yet." You could hear the amusement in his words, rolling your eyes as you switched your gaze from them up to the telly, that was playing some football game Simon had put on a few hours ago. "Think he's just not tired."
You know you should've expected this, Tommy's doctor had warned you at the last appointment when he'd gotten his first shots that he might experience some type of sleep regression, which meant more hours of staying awake while watching your son. And maybe it would've been worse for you if Simon wasn't there experiencing the same stress as you were. Weirdly, it felt nice to have another person in the same boat as you, even if he didn't really seem that keen on needing to sleep like you did.
Tommy seemed to had taken a liking to his father ever since the first day they'd both met, but that was kind of a given after Simon had spent the whole month after that coming over almost every single day (except for the days where he'd warned you before time that he'd be gone for work) and spending it all with his son.
You kind of hoped that Tommy had started to recognise him as a father like he did with you as a mother, since he was at the age where he was able to recognise caregivers; but even if he didn't, he did still cling onto Simon's hand every time it was time for him to leave like he did to you, tears bordering at his glassy eyes when you stood at the door with him in your arms waving goodbye to Simon.
You almost started crying every time he'd start making grabby hands at Simon, who'd rest his face against his son's tummy and let his chubby hands pull at the cloth of his balaclava, sometimes even pulling it up over his lips so he could press a quick kiss to his cheek, hiding his face immediately once you came in, unknowing that you'd been watching them before.
It wasn't like the bad blood that you had with Simon had magically been solved, you were still sometimes on edge or a bit snappy at him when it came to Tommy or your "relationship" with him, but you weren't as furious with him as you were when he first showed up.
"Not interestin' enough for you, am I?" Simon grunted as Tommy's attention drifted from the clapping to the telly above him, eyes wide as the presenter talked about some red card.
"You've bored him." You snickered, outstretching an arm to click your fingers, the sound immediately catching your son's attention. "Hi, duck!"
"He's not a bloody cat." Simon grumbled, picking up Tommy carefully from his spot on the blanket you'd draped on the floor for him to lie on, moving him onto your chest so he could cuddle into you.
You were about to snap back when Tommy interrupted you both with a wide yawn, chubby hands clinging onto your sleep shirt and eyes threatening to droop closed, although they were still stuck to the image of the footballers running across the field on the TV.
Both of you froze, Simon having been mid way to getting a toy he'd dropped not so long ago so he was stuck in that position, eyes wide and staring at his suddenly sleepy son.
You placed a soft hand on his back, pressing him further into your chest so the sound of your heartbeat would lull him to sleep easier.
But as luck would have it, a goal was scored right at the moment where his eyes finally fully closed, the commentators shouting out excitement and forcing your son back awake with a cry.
Simon and you groaned in unison, the man finally picking up the toy and collapsing on the ground, lying on his back right next to the sofa and glaring up at the ceiling, listening to you try and calm your son down from his abrupt awakening.
"Who scored?" You grumbled, masking your annoyance with interest.
"Not Manchester." Simon grunted back, raising a hand to take Tommy's, his fingers brushing against your chest in the process. "Haven't had a bloody win in a while."
"Sorry." You mumbled, remembering the disappointment that had shone in his eyes when you'd told him about some of the losses of the teams he liked he'd asked you to take a note of while he was away for work.
He'd done well at keeping his promise, sending you messages every time he had to leave, no longer disappearing without a trace, even if it was just a single day of paperwork or a check up at base. He sometimes also sent you pictures, whether it was him in his car showing you that he was close to your flat in case you weren't prepared for him or the takeaway menu at your favourite fast food place, asking for your order. They were always dark and a bit out of focus, but you couldn't deny that you hadn't let out a laugh when you'd seen the failed attempt of him trying to get out of frame, his skulled balaclava peeking out from a corner of the picture.
He'd been gone for a week this time, which explained why he was being so clingy towards Tommy ever since he'd arrived, takeout in hand and arms itching to wrap around his son, and had spent the whole last hour catching up with the both of you.
"Are you sleeping here tonight?" You yawned, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to ignore the squirming boy on your chest, his hands digging uncomfortably into your clavicle.
"Yeah. Though I probably won't be doing much sleepin'." He rumbled, letting Tommy wrap one of his chubby hands around one of Simon's big fingers. "Y'know I can just take over. Go get some rest."
You bit the inside of your cheek at that, looking away despite still having your eyes partly closed, your grip unintentionally tightening around Tommy's small body.
You were still put on edge whenever you left Tommy alone with Simon, even though he'd shown no ill towards you in any way, you just couldn't help it, the thought that something might happen to your sweet boy when he wasn't under your supervision was enough to strike an unexplainable fear into you. You knew that he'd noticed how your face turned sour whenever it was mentioned, but he hadn't ceased asking completely, knowing that sooner or later you'd have to entrust him with your son like you'd both agreed.
"Is that okay…?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the cheers and cries of excitement from the telly, but by the way he turned his head towards you and squeezed Tommy's hand, you knew he heard you.
"Yeah. Don' worry. You need some rest."
You both stayed put for a few seconds, your hands slowly falling from their place on your son's back and scooping him up carefully before pushing yourself off the sofa, forcing Tommy's hand out of Simon's in the process.
You watched carefully as he shifted off the floor to sit next to you on the sofa, his built arms moving to cradle his son in their crook, rocking him slowly as you got up, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers as you stood and watched them both for a moment, almost terrified of taking a step out of their vicinity.
"Go." Simon commanded, getting comfy on the sofa as he turned his attention back to the game playing on the telly, the assertive tone that his voice took enough to send shivers running down your spine, nodding your head out of instinct before scurrying away like one of the rookies Simon was oh-so used to ordering around back at base.
After having a well deserved shower and pulling on some of your cosiest pyjamas, you let your body collapse onto your bed, curling into the middle where the mattress dipped and covering yourself up with your countless amount of blankets due to the chill that had overcome the country after a few rare weeks of warmth.
You smiled as you remembered how happy Tommy had looked when you'd taken him out in his stroller and let him bask in the sunlight for a bit while sitting next to him at the park, trying your best to focus on his giggles and not on the shadowy figure of his father standing behind you, more like a bodyguard waiting to take out any threats to you both instead of the father he claimed to want to be.
You let out a huff at the memory of how cautious Simon had been at first around you both, almost like a stray cat getting used to their new family: always standing around you but never too close, bringing you small gifts (i.e. takeout or groceries he thought you'd need or Tommy's new favourite teddy bear he now slept with instead of his duck), slowly making your home his own unconsciously by leaving some of his clothes packed away in a small corner of your wardrobe or packing the fridge with some of how own personal food items.
You'd noticed, of course. How could you not?
At first, when you'd found some of his clothes in the midst of the batch of laundry you were tending to, you were struck with fear. Fear that everything you'd worked hard to build was going to be invaded by this barely known presence you were just starting to get used to, but as time went on, you realised there was nothing scary about it.
It was oddly comforting, in a way. It made you feel less alone when you spotted the extra toothbrush he'd plopped in the glass next to yours, the mug he'd brought over after he'd exclaimed his concern that all of yours were fit for coffee and not for tea or the hoodies he left lying around that Tommy loved curling into whether Simon was wearing it or not.
You pulled a pillow into your arms, simulating the feeling of your son in your arms you'd gotten so used to in order to fall asleep, closing your eyes and letting the muffled sounds of the football game still playing on the TV and your son's faint giggles lull you slowly to your first proper sleep in a while.
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You were pulled awake by the sound of your phone going off, your whole body jerking up and rushing to grab it out of instinct, the bright screen illuminating your room and forcing a groan out of you at the disturbance, letting your eyes focus until you were able to properly read the notification.
A frustrated sound left your lips at the message from one of the dating apps you'd forgotten you had informing you that you'd matched with someone, angered that it had been something so stupid that had woken you up from one of the best sleeps you'd had in a long time and not something important.
You fell back down onto the mattress, planning on closing your eyes and curling back into the pillow you'd been spooning moments before, but as your body slowly calmed down from the initial shock that had filled it, you were met with nothing but silence.
Your eyes had adjusted enough at this point that you were able to turn your head over to your door, frowning at the lack of light that normally came from under the door when the living room was lit, raising your head from the pillow slightly in an attempt to catch out any sounds that might be originating from anywhere in your flat.
But once again, silence continued to rule over your home.
You could've just closed your eyes and willed yourself to fall back asleep, but the creeping feeling that it was too quiet for how it normally was, that something might have happened in the few hours you'd let yourself rest was slowly burrowing itself in your mind.
And fuck, what if Simon had done something? What I'd you'd misjudged him? What if he'd taken advantage of your tired state and just fucked off with your son in his arms, leaving you broken and abandoned once again?
The fear that struck your body at that train of thought was enough to wake you up properly, allowing your body to act like it had just consumed countless amounts of caffeine and rush over to the partly open door, slowly pushing it open before looking around frantically, eyes landing on the back of the sofa and on the turned off TV in front of it.
Your hand landed on the headrest, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on Simon's sleeping body, his arms protectively wrapped around Tommy, who was resting on his chest like he'd been with you before you'd gone to rest.
You made it fully around until you were standing in front of the sofa, one of your hands coming up to grab at your thin sleep shirt right over the place your heart was currently hammering against out of relief.
Fuck…
Of course he hadn't left.
You were just being paranoid.
Simon had shown you no ill will the whole time he'd been here, but you were still on edge, assuming the worst from him…
A staggered breath left your lips, your hands coming up to cover your face as you willed your body to calm down, your legs trembling as the adrenaline that had rushed through you momentarily started to fade, leaving you confused and exhausted.
One of your legs threatened to give out, and as soon as you were getting ready to collapse, a warm hand grabbed at your thigh, a silent scream threatening to leave you until you realised who it belonged to, staring down with wide eyes at your son's father, one of the hands that had been cradling Tommy now holding your leg with the same care.
"What happened?!"
You could see the panic in his eyes despite the darkness that enveloped the room, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down your skin, his best attempt at soothing whatever pain you were harbouring that he had no idea about.
He called your name, pulling you closer to the sofa so you were kneeling on the free space of the plush sofa, staring down at Simon's chest and raising one of your hands up to your son's little head, running through his thin hair.
"What happened?" He repeated, more assertive this time rather than the panicked tone he had taken before, his hand moving from the back of your thigh up to your waist, almost like it was natural to do so.
"Nothing…" you finally let out, blinking away some of the tears you hadn't realised that had formed at your waterline. "Just… Uhm…"
"...Nightmare?" He offered an easier excuse than the real reason you'd pulled yourself out of bed at such an hour, slowly nodding your head in agreement and causing him to let out a sigh. "Do you-"
"I'm okay. Just… shaken up." By the way you were anxiously running your fingers through Tommy's hair as if to assure yourself that he was real, that he was indeed lying there asleep (something you hadn't realised up until that moment, Simon had somehow actually gotten Tommy to take a nap.), he assumed that whatever nightmare you'd had was related to him. "Needed to check that he was okay."
Yeah, that cemented it.
Simon would be lying if he said he hadn't a few nightmares of his own about Tommy ever since he'd met him properly, whether it was him forcibly being taken away from you by one of the many enemies he'd made across his life or a freak accident ending any hopes he'd had of all of you being a family.
And maybe they were a bit out of pocket, he'd made it very hard for anyone to trace you or Tommy back to him by always parking his car a few blocks away, making sure that Tommy had your last name instead of his and that the military had no idea about his offspring.
He couldn't have any records that would link you two to him, he couldn't even risk taking that chance, he knew that as soon as two of his weaknesses were revealed, it would only be a matter of time for them to be exploited by his enemies.
So, he understood. He understood the fear that came with a nightmare about your son, the need to see him and reinforce the fact that he was okay in your head.
"He is. Tired 'imself out a few hours ago." He moved towards the back of the sofa, allowing you space to sit next to them both, his hand still continuing to rest on your warm skin and pulling you along carefully, ready to pull away the moment you showed any signs of uncomfort.
"How come he sleeps for you?" You mumbled, more of a thought to yourself rather than something you wanted to share, but it caused Simon to smile beneath his mask nonetheless, raising his other hand up to Tommy's head to run a finger down his little nose, ignoring the way his heart rate spiked when it brushed against yours.
He thought about making a joke about being his favourite, hoping that it would brighten the mood a bit, but then remembered the look of dismay that would come over his teammates' faces whenever he made one about anything, and on second thought, maybe he'd have to wait a bit until you were both comfortable enough to enjoy his stupid jokes.
"Guess he's bored of me. You're much more entertainin' to be awake around." He rumbled, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at what you assumed was an attempt to lift your spirits.
"Yeah…" you smiled, leaning your body on the arm that was propping you up, your hand ceasing its brushing of Tommy's hair and simply resting on his small head, your heart growing bigger as he let out a little coo, snuggling further into Simon's hoodie.
You hadn't even been thinking about the hand cupping your waist, too focused on your son's sleeping figure and the warmth that it brought you, unconsciously wriggling a bit further into the touch, but you froze once Simon's hand immediately snapped back from you, as if he'd taken that as an immediate sign that he had broken a few boundaries by getting too close.
"Sorry."
You bit on your tongue, not wanting to full admit how much reassurance his touch had brought you and how much you'd give to have it back (you blamed the neediness on how exhausted your body was and the delirium that came with the lack of sleep you'd been subject to recently), not making any move to answer and instead focusing fully on your son.
"You want to take him?" Simon offered, leaning further up the sofa so he was kind of sitting, kind of lying on the arm rest. "Don' kids sleep better with their mams?"
"I… I think that may be a myth." You breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head as he made a move to hand Tommy over to you. "No, it's okay. I move a lot at night, I don't - I don't want to hurt him, you know?"
Simon turned down to the fragile little human he was holding, remembering the exact moment he'd realised that you were both in charge of taking care of him, of keeping him out of danger and stopping anyone and anything from shattering the little being that seemed to be made of glass.
"That's fine."
Silence fell over the both of you, an awkward atmosphere forming as you didn't move, feeling as time went on that you were invading the little personal space he was allowed to have in your flat.
"D'you want to stay?"
What?
Your brain short-circuited, blinking at him owlishly, as if he'd just spoken in an unknown language, the words still processing in your mind.
"Stay?" You managed out, looking down at the space between you both, a space where you could easily fit into if you were to snuggle into his side and let him hold you.
But surely, he wasn't suggesting that.
Memories of how he'd held you that fateful night flooded your mind, his warm calloused hands sprawled out against the bare skin of your waist, the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage lulling you to sleep…
"Yeah, stay."
…It made you want to accept.
Made you want to melt into his side and wrap an arm around his wide chest, tangle your fingers in your son's soft hair and lie there with them both, making sure that no harm could come to Tommy thanks to the protective shadow that was Simon Riley.
But you couldn't. You knew that.
The walls you'd built while carrying Tommy in hopes that you'd never be hurt or abandoned again, the walls that had kept you relatively safe within the expanse of your mind refused to crumble, refused to make way for the man that had come barreling back into your life and threatened to destroy them.
You couldn't risk it.
So, you didn't.
You pulled your hand away from your son as if he burned, cradling it against your chest and looking away from Simon's imposing stare, the look in his eyes making you want to squirm and cry and adhere to anything he wanted.
"No." If you'd still been looking at him, you would have noticed the way his shoulders slumped, the way the dim light in his eyes proceeded to disappear at the single word that left your mouth. "Thanks."
It seemed every little step of progress you'd both taken together the whole month immediately dissipated away thanks to his idiotic question.
Of course you'd fucking refuse his stupid invitation, what was he thinking? That you were both a happy couple who didn't pass on any chance to hold each other in your arms? That he was your husband, the proper father of your son who you loved and cared for, who you enjoyed having pressed right against you? He was a fucking idiot. He couldn't contain himself for once in his life and he'd gone and ruined everything.
"Okay." Despite the inner turmoil that raged inside of him, that simple word of affirmation was all he could get out, and he hoped to whatever god was up there (that apparently loved torturing him) that you'd both wake up the next day without a single recollection of what had happened last night.
"Good night." You whispered, pushing yourself off the sofa and wrapping your arms around your chest, immediately regretting every single one of your actions that night as you gazed upon how truly comfy and warm Simon and your son looked snuggled together, wishing that you had the emotional capability to let your resentment go and indulge in Simon's touch.
"'Night."
You willed yourself to take the first step back, tearing your gaze away from them and heading back to your bedroom, your face erupting into warmth out of a mixture of embarrassment and sadness, a clear sign that your body wanted nothing more than to just burst into tears and let Simon wrap you up in his arms and soothe you down like you knew he could.
You buried your face into your pillow as soon as you made it back into your now-cold mess of sheets, tugging one of the pillows back into your arms and doing your best to imagine that it was someone else, someone else who was as willing as you'd imagined Simon had been before to have you in their arms, to stroke your hair and calm you down because they loved you, because they cared about you and wanted nothing more than to see you as happy as you'd been a mere few hours ago.
You passed out soon enough, a few tears running down your cheeks as you subconsciously wrapped yourself around the pillow like a koala, the tear stains quickly disappearing during the night and lacking any evidence that they were once there when Simon walked through your door in the early morning, standing at the side of your bed for a few moments before he leaned over, pulling up the covers and tucking them around your sleeping body.
The sound of the shower coming alive and the pipes groaning was the thing that pulled you awake, struggling a few moments to rid yourself of the covers that pushed onto you, wondering to yourself when and how you'd tucked yourself in so aggressively, turning your head towards your bathroom and listening to the clinking of shampoo bottles and the water as it hit the tiled walls.
Your bathroom was unfortunately directly connected to your bedroom, so in order to get into the shower, Simon would have had to pass by your bed and… tuck you in? Did he really tuck you in?
You pulled languidly at the covers, looking down at your nightwear and growing warm as you saw how transparent your shirt looked in the morning light, leaving almost nothing to the imagination of whoever were to look down at your chest.
Simon had seen you like that.
You squeezed your eyes closed out of embarrassment, as if he was right there judging you with his stupid thousand yard stare, lifting yourself off the mattress and looking around your wardrobe for a shirt, restoring to a band one you'd stolen from one of your ex boyfriends you'd never had the heart to throw out.
You were mid straightening it out, your previous night shirt now pooling at your feet, when the door to the bathroom opened, your immediate response being to wrap your arms around your chest and let out a cry of warning, turning around so he was facing your back.
"Fuckin'-"
"Go back in!" You cried out, wanting nothing more than for the earth to burst open and swallow you whole, feeling too tired to be dealing with this kind of embarrassment at such an early hour of the morning.
You cracked an eye open as the door closed, letting the grip you'd had on the shirt go as you faintly heard Simon curse, trying to erase the memory of what had happened out of your brain.
As you pulled on the shirt, you willed yourself to think about anything other than the glimpse of flesh you'd seen before turning around, the wide chest that had been littered with the scars he'd once let you trace over, the towel around his waist that had barely cov-
Stop!
Unknown to you, Simon was having a similar dispute with himself from inside the bathroom, resting his flushed face on the cool tiles of the wall as he listened to you shuffle around your room, cursing himself out for being so goddamn stupid and exiting the bathroom without even checking if you were awake or not.
That wasn't the only reason he should've checked, he thought you'd still be asleep, so stupidly, he'd gone out with barely any coverings, including the one on his face, so he was pretty sure you would've seen the way his eyes almost immediately darted down towards your chest if you hadn't been busy enough with covering yourself and ogling at his chest.
"Fuck…" he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair and looking at himself in the foggy mirror, the tired, broken stare of a being he could barely consider a man staring back at him.
After a few more moments of staring at himself he couldn't bear it anymore, grabbing his discarded balaclava and pulling it over his what he considered broken face, his other clothes continuing as he did his best to cover every single patch of skin he could, hand landing on the doorknob once he was finished and asking for confirmation.
You'd about finished putting on the shirt when he'd piped up from inside, letting out a small "you can." before he opened the door again, face now covered and eyes darting down at the oversized shirt you'd pulled over your bottoms, closing it behind him.
"Didn't know you'd be changin'." He grumbled, his way of apologising without saying the exact words, eyes scanning the band on your shirt. "Y'like Joy Division?"
"Huh?" You looked down at the shirt, straightening it out to properly look at the band you'd forgotten was plastered on the front, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, they're good. I'm, uh, not the biggest fan. This was my boyfriend's."
"Boyfriend?" He spat out, almost with malice.
"Ex." You clarified, pulling at the ends of your shirt out of nerves, the way he was staring down at you reminiscent of how you'd assume higher ups looked down at their soldiers when they were in the wrong.
"Right." He grunted, looking away from you and training his stare at the bedroom door, nodding towards it. "'M gonna go check on Tom."
He brushed past you, leaving you standing in the middle of your bedroom twiddling your thumbs, confused and embarrassed due to the interaction you'd just shared.
You walked into the kitchen, stopping in your tracks when you noted that the dishes you'd left last night after Simon had brought take away had been cleaned right up, the plastic bowls from the curry thrown away in the recycling along with the other trash you'd used when making Tommy formula (you resorted to using that instead of pumping or breastfeeding when Simon was over).
God, now you felt even worse for what had happened last night.
You rubbed your hands all over your face, digging your nails into your scalp as you ran them through your hair, snapping your head up as your heard your son giggle, going back a few steps to look through the crack of the door, your chest tightening as you watched Simon feed Tommy, murmuring a string of words you were too far away to understand.
Fuck, you really felt awful.
You pulled out a few ingredients, acting almost on autopilot as you fried the sausages and toasted the bread, making his tea subconsciously the way you know he liked it (he'd never forced you to make tea, you'd seen the sticker on a takeaway cup he'd left on the counter), and pouring it into the cup he always used.
"You didn't have to." Simon mumbled as he walked out of the nursery, holding the empty bottle of milk in one hand and a plastic bag with a dirty nappy in the other, looking down at the plate of food you'd made him.
"I wanted to." You mumbled, taking a bite out of your own buttered toast as you watched him walk around the kitchen, throwing away the bag and cleaning out the bottle before starting on his breakfast, standing at the island instead of sitting like you were. "As thanks. For, uhm, cleaning up."
"It was nothin' deserving of this." He mumbled underneath his breath, shoving a spoonful of the baked beans into his mouth, now visible thanks to him pulling up his balaclava, the taste of the normal breakfast he'd have at whatever café he normally went to complete shit compared to yours.
"It's fine. I went a little overboard, it's been a while since I've cooked for someone."
He let out an amused huff, nodding his head. "Yeah, babies don' really need a full brekkie."
You both went silent after that, your eyes looking around at everything but at him, secretly hoping that he was enjoying the food, wishing you would've put on the radio or the news so you weren't sitting in complete silence.
The tapping of his fingers against the counter finally pulled your gaze towards him, watching him carefully as you continued to eat.
"Laswell called."
Laswell?
The face you made must've made him realise you had no idea who he was talking about, his hand coming up to grab the mug of tea and take a long sip before speaking again.
"Station Chief Laswell." You nodded along, hoping that he'd believe that you actually knew what he was saying. "She's got a mission f'us."
Oh.
"When?" You spoke out, a bit choked up as you tried your best to focus on the food instead, you always got unexplainably nervous when he left for a mission, despite the fact that he always came back.
"Gotta be there by 1."
You turned to look at the time on the microwave, the 09:00 displayed there striking unexplainable fear in you.
"You should get going, then."
"I should."
Neither one of you moved.
"Did you say goodbye to Tommy?"
"I did." He took a final sip of his tea, placing the cup down and turning to look at the nursery, the strangling pain he felt every time he left you coming back to haunt him. "Changed his nappy too. Like y'taught me."
You smiled at the memory. A few days after he'd first shown up you'd tried your best to teach him how to change Tommy and you'd gone through almost 10 nappies by the time he'd been able to put one decent enough (you'd quickly changed it yourself after he'd turned around, you didn't want the nappy to cut off your baby's circulation), so you hoped that he'd actually done it properly this time.
"Thank you…" You offered him a small smile, looking down at your own cuppa, wrapping your arms around the now lukewarm mug. "Go get ready. I'll clean up."
Simon really didn't want to, he wanted to continue standing there talking to you, gazing at your tired face and how cute you looked taking small bites out of the food you'd made that you'd undoubtedly wouldn't finish and would slide over to him like you'd done all those times before.
But he couldn't. He was a soldier. One that was trained to kill and follow orders no matter what and no matter the circumstance, one that would be laughed at if he called in saying he wanted to stay with- well, whatever you were to him.
He was about to zip up the duffle bag he'd left in your room during his small stay when he caught a glimpse of something he'd forgotten about.
The gun was relatively light in his hand, one that was smaller than the ones he was used to carrying out in the field, but could quickly figure out how to use in the span of a millisecond.
He called out your name, rapping his knuckles against the counter to catch your attention, raising his arms in surrender as fear filled your face, dropping the plate into the sink and taking a step back as soon as you caught sight of the gun.
"Simon! What the fu-"
"It's not loaded." His other hand waved around the magazine, placing them both down on the island in front of you both. "I'm not going to use it."
"I would fucking hope so!" You cried out, wiping off the soap suds on a towel and pressing your back into the counter, gripping the edge of it as if he was really threatening you with the gun.
"Do you know how to shoot one?"
You shook your head. You'd never even seen one this close apart from the rare policemen that carried one, let alone held one.
"Come." He picked them two items up, walking back into your room and waiting for you at the door to follow, worried about what he was planning on doing. "Where would you keep a gun?"
You turned to him with a raised eyebrow, once again expressing your confusion with a single stare before turning to the bedside table closest to the side you normally slept in, pulling the drawer out and immediately growing warm as you gazed down at the string of condoms along with some other items.
"Here, I suppose…" You watched him sit down on the bed, the mattress immediately sinking beneath his weight as he raised the gun and magazine up into your line of view.
"Take it."
You shakily did as he said, the gun feeling heavy in your palms in contrast to how easy it had felt for Simon, turning it around a few times as he continued to speak, pointing out every single detail and part of what he had soon let you know was a Glock.
"It's the one most policemen carry. Not very heavy, but still capable of takin' down a man." He murmured, almost letting out a chuckle as he took the gun and cocked it, making you jump at the sudden sound.
"Why would I want to take down a man?" You asked tentatively, taking it back from him and trying to fit in the magazine like he'd instructed you to.
A warm hand came up to cover yours, stopping you in your tracks and allowing him to get up and take the firearm from you, pulling out the magazine and placing them both in the drawer, trying his best to ignore the other items that were scattered around.
"Listen to me." He turned his head as he slammed the drawer shut, staring directly into your eyes to make sure that you were paying attention. "I cannot ensure your safety while I'm gone. There's tons of fucked up people who'd take whatever change to tear me down and would not think twice about using you or Tommy to do so. This is just in case. You only use this if you or Tommy are in imminent danger. If there is someone threatening any of you, you do not hesitate, you take the gun and use it."
Use it.
Use it!?
His hand came up to cup at your cheek, pulling you out of your swarming thoughts so he could be sure you were listening.
"I- Simon, I can't- I'll go to jail if I use it, I can't-"
"You won't." He interrupted, shaking his head. "I won't let them. You're under my protection, this is just in case of emergency when I'm not around."
You nodded, not knowing what else to do, the gun that had been in your hands mere moments ago feeling like a burden despite it being locked away.
"Oi. Lovie, look at me."
That immediately caught your attention.
"Tell me you understand."
Your mouth had gone dry, the combination of the shock behind his little surprise and the nickname that had slipped out of his mouth proving to be too much to handle.
"Tell me. You understand."
You took a deep breath, nodding your head. "I understand, Simon."
Even after he'd left, you couldn't shake yourself off that foreboding feeling, terrified that the moment where you'd have to use the gun would arrive sometime soon, the thought of you or Tommy coming into danger while Simon wasn't around enough to make you want to crumble into tiny pieces.
You'd stood by the door like you always did, although this time Tommy was fast asleep in his crib and your arms were empty, leaving you to say goodbye to Simon (although looking up into his eyes, you knew he wasn't Simon anymore) all by yourself.
"When d'you think you'll be back?" You whispered as he opened the door, not wanting to disturb any of the neighbours that might be loitering around (despite knowing that news about the terrifying man that resided in your apartment had travelled quick after he'd threatened your neighbour), handing him his jacket.
"A week, tops. I'll send you a text as soon as I know." He grunted, shoving on his jacket before pulling up his duffle bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "You need anythin', you call base, okay? They'll relay the message if it's necessary."
He'd given you the number to his base a few weeks ago, but you knew you'd never have the heart to call it, too embarrassed that the little problem you were currently having was nothing compared to what Simon was going through, and you didn't want to disturb any of his work if it really wasn't that important.
"Sent you money this morning. You got enough for a month." He went through his mental list of everything he should say to you before going, leaning against the door frame and looking down at you through heavy eyelids. "Get some takeout, don't strain yourself any more than you already are. Doctor said you should take it easy."
You dismissed the urge to roll your eyes, cursing yourself out for even allowing him to take you to the doctor in the first place and listen in.
"I know. I'll be fine, Simon. You just worry about yourself."
"Always do." He said, nodding his head as a form of goodbye before pushing himself off the doorframe, heading towards the elevator and leaving you standing there, only closing the door when you heard the front door close from all the way downstairs.
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— I think he misses you.
— Won't let go of the teddy bear even though it's all dirty :(.
‍‍‍‍‍‍‍
God, if Simon wasn't wearing his mask he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to contain his smile, zooming into the picture you'd sent him of your small boy lying in your bed fast asleep cuddling the little plushie he'd gifted him.
‍‍‍‍‍‍‍
— More.
‍‍‍‍‍‍‍
He hoped you understood what you meant by that, and by the way a few more pictures loaded in within seconds, he was glad you did.
He had to print some of those.
He'd once made a joke about one of the soldiers who wore a picture of their beloved in a small locket to Soap, commenting how it reminded him of the soldiers in WWI, when they were really just on their way to disarm a bomb.
But now he felt the need to have some type picture of you both or trinket that you'd given him right in the pocket over his heart, one that he could easily pull out in the middle of a mission to remind himself of why he was doing this, of why he couldn't let himself get caught by the enemy, of why he always had to come back to you.
He couldn't even bear the thought of his dog tags arriving at your doorstep instead of him one fateful day.
"Your nephew?"
Ghost snapped his head up, meeting the curious gaze of his captain and the bright orange tip of his cigar. "What?"
"Your nephew." Price gestured towards his lieutenant's phone, where the picture of Tommy drooling around one of his toys was still displayed. "You told me about him once at that bar in Vienna. What's his name?"
"Joseph." Ghost answered, shaking his head. "No, he's… Not a baby anymore. Must be a bloody teenager by now."
Price hummed, taking another puff from his cigar before looking away, squinting his eyes from the sun, wishing he'd been as smart as Ghost by bringing a pair of sunglasses.
"So."
"So?"
"Who's he, then?" Once again, the captain looked down at the dimly lit picture, where he could barely make out the features of the little boy, but by the onesie and plushie, he was able to decipher the not so difficult puzzle.
"He's…" Ghost trailed off, taking one last look at the picture before turning off his phone, sliding it into one of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. "No-one."
"No-one?" Price huffed out, amused. "So you just have pictures of random babies on your phone, is that it, Lieutenant?"
Ghost flared up at his captain, the frown obscured by the sunglasses he'd put on after the clouds had dispersed, but by the way his body had tensed, Price could only assume he'd pissed him off.
"Name's Tommy. That's all you're getting." He grunted out, looking away from the older man like a child admitting to something embarrassing.
"Like your brother?" Price commented, letting out a groan before sitting down on the wall next to Ghost. "Isn't that a coincidence?"
"No, she didn' know when she named-" Ghost stopped himself from saying anything further, the slip of the tongue already having revealed the existence of a 'she', and he did not want to say any more.
"'She'?" Price grinned, blowing out some of the smoke before bringing his cigar up to his lips. "Come on, Simon. We're not on duty, are we? Not your captain right now."
He'd promised himself to keep quiet. He couldn't have anyone find out about you or Tommy, he couldn't risk having that information out in the open, his weakness out there for everyone to know.
But Price… Well, Price was different. He'd saved him multiple times across the span of time he'd spent working for the army, he'd been the one to pull him out of the deepest of holes, the one to trust him enough to allow him to join the 141.
They trusted each other.
"She's… I don't know." He let his head cock back, looking up at the forming clouds. "I knocked her up."
"Fuckin' hell, Simon." Price breathed out along with some smoke, turning to look at him with a sort of horrified and disappointed stare. "You're a dad?"
"Yeah."
"Christ, you're makin' me feel fucking old." He grumbled, taking the phone from Ghost as he handed it over, squinting at the dimly lit screen. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"
Ghost smiled beneath his mask, watching Price scroll through the countless pictures you'd sent him across the month he'd been back, resisting the embarrassing urge to point out small details of every picture like an art major in a museum, instead keeping quiet and itching slowly to grab his phone back.
"Think you're a good dad?" Price asked, taking Ghost back a bit as he slid his phone back into the confines of his pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he squinted at two figures in the distance.
"Not the worst. Don't think he's got the mental capability to recognise if I'm good or bad to 'im. Least he doesn't cry every time he sees me." He breathed out a chuckle, snapping his mouth shut as he saw Soap and Gaz approach, the conversation sizzling away as they plopped down next to them both.
As the others started talking about another topic, Ghost thought about the question he'd been asked before more in-depth.
He wasn't a bad father, right?
He wasn't like… that.
Simon would be caught dead before even thinking of inflicting onto Tommy the same pain his own father had inflicted onto his family.
Imagining his small boy going through the same trauma, the same horror, the same fear he'd felt during his childhood was enough to tear his cold heart apart.
And he'd never treat you like his father had treated his mother, he'd never subdue you to the same pain she went through every day, he wouldn't let himself fall into the circle of abuse that had started way before his own father.
And Simon wasn't perfect. He knew that.
But he wouldn't stoop as low as his father had during the beginning of his life, where instead of the love and care a child was supposed to receive from his parents, he received the abuse and pain that no one deserved.
Just like him.
He closed his eyes as he remembered the burning shouts as his father berated him, always comparing the both of them and forcing Simon into tears, the mere thought of ending up as horrible as his father reducing him to sobs.
Even now, he still felt sick when he'd stare at the pictures of his father his mother still kept around her room in the nursing home, horrified whenever she'd point out their similar eyes and same blond hair.
But he wouldn't end like that. Despite whatever physical similarity he shared with his father, they had nothing in common personality wise.
Simon wasn't a monster.
He wouldn't hurt you or Tommy.
He wouldn't let anyone hurt you or Tommy.
He was a protector, a soldier trained to serve his country and the civilians who resided within it.
And he would protect. No matter what.
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"S'alright, lovie… Jus' me."
"Simon…" You breathed out, letting your eyes flutter closed as his hands roamed the exposed skin of your chest, broken lips pressing kisses the whole way up to your jaw.
"That's it… Such a good girl f'me… Pretty, pretty girl." His warm hands cupped at your chest, pulling another whine out of you as he toyed with your breasts. "My good girl, right?"
"Mhm…" You mumbled, letting your head loll back onto Simon's shoulder and look up at him through tear covered eyelashes, your brain not functioning properly to process the blurred mass of what you assumed was a man's face staring down at you with those beautiful eyes, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned down to press the kiss you'd been longing for for so goddamn long—
Your body jolted awake, an uncomfortable ache between your legs quickly making itself known as you tossed around in your messy bed, brows furrowed as your brain tried to catch up with your suddenly awakened body.
What had you even been dreaming about?
You rubbed at your eyes with your wrists, digging them deep enough so you saw a few blinding colours, letting go and resorting to staring up at the ceiling.
You didn't even bother checking your phone, already knowing that the only notifications you would have received in the few hours you'd spent asleep were the ones from the dating apps you still didn't have the energy to delete.
None from Simon, of course. He'd been gone for over two weeks by now, which wasn't surprising, since he had let you know that this mission would be a long one and had warned you in advance.
Considering the last mission he'd gone on was almost a month ago (and had only lasted a few days, you think he finished as soon as he could to be back with Tommy, by the way he'd barreled through the house to get to the nursery) and that you and Tommy had gotten him all to yourself for about two weeks straight, you'd expected him to be called sooner or later.
You weren't really looking forward to him coming back, since you'd have to break the news to him that he'd missed Tommy's first attempts to sit up without support and the success that came after.
Luckily, you'd filmed most of it, although you did end up throwing the phone on the sofa to congratulate your son personally, pressing kisses to his chubby rolls and listening to him giggle before accidentally helping him fall back onto your bed, causing him to burst out crying.
Okay, well, maybe you could just edit the final part out.
You were pulling the covers over yourself, snuggling back into the warmth of your mattress before attempting to close your eyes and fall back asleep (hopefully to return to whatever dream you'd been having before), when the sound of the creek of your floorboards snapped you out of it.
Your heart stopped, listening out for any further sounds, breath hitching in your throat as what you feared you'd heard continued, recognising the footsteps going from the living room into the kitchen.
You leaned over to your phone, hoping to God that Simon had finished the mission early and had sent you a quick message telling you he'd be coming back soon, but as you unlocked the phone…
Nothing.
So whoever was walking around your house was not Simon.
You heard muffled whispers, too quiet for you to understand but loud enough to send a cold shiver down your spine.
It terrified you. That cemented the fact that there was actually someone in your home, walking around like it was nothing.
But there was more than one voice. Two. Or was it more?
You assumed the sound that had woken you up had been the door opening, which inflicted even more fear into you at the thought that they must have had a key instead of knocking your door down since the sound hadn't been enough to stick with you after pulling you awake.
Your eyes instinctively darted over to the bedside table, where Simon's gun still laid untouched every since he'd "gifted" it to you, staying frozen until one pair of feet got a bit too close to your door, mind racing and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you scrambled to open the drawer as quietly as possible and pull out the gun and mag with shaky hands, carefully pushing it in before cocking it, hissing at the loud sound it made.
You stepped out of bed, body shaking as you neared the door with the heavy gun in your hand, listening out carefully for what they could be saying.
"—ce gaf. Didn' expect this from ya."
"You're a classy one aren't — your sofa?"
The voices were broken and muffled, leaving your brain to try its best to complete them.
God, this was terrifying. You could feel your whole body shaking, waiting for the moment where it could give out.
It's okay. Deep breaths.
You can do this.
The doorknob rattled, the moment it twisted seemingly happening in slow motion, your heart skipping a beat before you raised your gun up to the attacker, finger grabbing at the trigger just in case they made a dangerous move on you, your frantic eyes meeting the surprised ones of the man you were currently pointing a gun at (which you'd never used before, mind you).
"Steamin' fuckin'-"
You didn't even have time to react before his arm instinctively raised towards you, hand grasping at your throat in an instant, like the only thing he'd been taught to do was to kill.
"What the fuck are you doing!?"
You heard a familiar voice roar as the hand tightened around your throat, the gun now abandoned at your feet as your hands scratched and tugged at your attacker's hand.
The last thing you saw before your eyes clouded over was the large shadow coming up from behind your assailant, their face one that despite the tears that blurred your vision you could tell was ready to rip apart someone.
You didn't even have time to think if it was going to be you or his partner.
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TAGLIST: @selfassassin @ess-perspective-blog @crazyfandomist @webreathfandoms @warners-wife @prodyng @gaycrystalbitch @uhhely @mentallynot-here @jordanwalkersworld @skepticalleo @bratsukisworld @screamingoverfiction @comedinewithmeyeh @gojosbucket @mikasakuchiki @jonhswife @tea-effect @thelittlejinx @cafesho @daddylorianisastateofmind @63sucker @simpingforleoandnico @simonsslvt @embers-of-alluring @uriahs-sketchings @alexisv15 @alexkellersleg @jordanwalkersworld @tabalugax @diekoniginvonfernet @thatoneautor0123 @technicallyvirtualmilkshake @littlezarp @crazyfandomist @hypernovaxx @am-3-thyst @madamemelancholysstuff @lylesx @anxietydrogz @jaymum @coacaiyne @emmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaa @ghostsfavhoe @maviee @pedropascalswhore @d4z01 @beakami (if your name is in white, it means I couldn't tag you!)
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bunnystalker · 4 months
Text
gentle (18+)
hello! i was kind of stumbling through this so im worried it might not be good! like always, criticism is welcome ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚
cw; dubcon due to non-verbal consent, re1 wesker, marriage/long term relationship implied, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff not gonna lie, afab reader, soft dom wesker, clitoral stimulation, he's obsessed with you, praise (reader receiving), temperature difference cus he's a human icicle, creampie (x1), a bit of a breeding kink, very lovey and soft wesker
petnames (reader received); dearest, my dove, darling, dearheart, little dove, good girl, sweet thing, greedy girl
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albert's gentle with you because he still has his humanity intact. sure, he's not completely sane either, but he doesn't want to drive you away. without uroboros or even the prototype virus, he's strong, and intimidating. his military training has hardened him, and he's tired of being stern and strict at both jobs.
to initiate, he'll typically come to you while you're both winding down for the night. maybe you're patting your face dry after washing it and he comes in the bathroom to hold you from behind. you set the towel aside and acknowledge his presence with a simple "hello, my love," and a small smile. your hands come up to
"hi, dearest," he murmurs, his hand coasting along your abdomen and up to settle on your sternum, pressing you back against his chest so you're flush.
"you're gorgeous," he says between kisses down your neck, his voice a little lower. despite his cold hands, he never fails to make you feel warm in your gut, the subtle purr of arousal making your blood flow south. you're blushing something fierce, making eye contact with him through the mirror. he does tower over you some. you can feel his erection against the small of your back, your own arousal heightening. the hand on his sternum moves to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple so he can watch how your breathing changes, how your heart beats faster and your face flushes red.
he's so in love with you it almost hurts. he loves the way you press your ass back against him, grinding as an attempt to soothe the ache in your cunt. the ache that only he could ever cause, no less, in the few years you've been together. his other hand finds its way into your underwear, fingers cold but deft as he dips them between your wettened folds to gather the sticky fluid and circle your pulsing clit. you become putty in his arms, your hands practically useless at your sides. your knees turn to jelly, little whines of satisfaction leaving you.
"so, so gorgeous." he croons, the hand cupping your breast simply kneading as he rubs your clit with two cold fingers. he's a sucker for praising you, truthfully, and he loves the way you become red in the face. your face is hot, his dull blue eyes boring holes in your own. it's as though the eye contact makes him more excited, even if the look in his eyes is bone-chilling. his breath is warm against your neck, words of praise and love leaving his pale lips. he presses down a bit more firmly on your clit, his fingers moving quicker to bring you closer to your release. your moans grow louder, your legs threatening to crumble beneath you.
when you do cum, he talks you through it. your hands scramble to grab the edge of the bathroom countertop, your knees buckling under you from the force of your orgasm. your vision is starry at the peak
"i'm here, my dove. lean on me, darling. that's it. you did so well for me, didn't you? yes, you did. my wonderful girl." he murmurs, retracting his hand from your underwear as he peppers kisses to your cheek as you recover. he licks his fingers clean of your cum and strokes your hair with his clean hand, waiting for you to be able to stand again. when you're steady again you tap his arm and he lets you go.
he washes his hands and starts his own nightly routine. you perch yourself on the bathroom countertop and watch him, your head and heart muddled with love and a bit of residual pleasure. every now and then his eyes wander over to you, the subtlest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth. you'll run a hand through his hair as he rubs his moisturizer in (he takes care of his skin you can't tell me otherwise), your nails gently scratching the base of his head.
"your hair is getting long." you murmur, playing with the whispy ends.
"too long, dear?" suddenly, he's a bit self-conscious. what if his hair is too long and you decide you hate it? maybe you'll decide that one day, you don't like him anymore. maybe you already have? nervous and trying to hide it, his gaze returns to his own face.
"no, not too long. you could definitely pull off longer hair if you wanted to give it a try." you let your hand drop into your lap and he nods, feeling conflicted and honestly very silly. regardless, he leans over and pecks your lips. his timidity is rare, exceedingly so for a man like him, and it only ever pops up around you. like you're the only one who can get in his head, make him squirm. he may not admit it, but you are.
"good to know. thank you, darling." he takes your hand and helps you off of the bathroom counter, that same hand slipping to the small of your back as the two of you walk to bed. you have other plans.
you make that apparent when you sit at the edge of your king-sized mattress, black sheets crinkling slightly, and look up at him. it's clear that you want something. he raises an eyebrow at you.
"what's this, dear?" he cups your jaw with one hand and strokes your hair with the other. icy eyes roam your own for an answer, but to no avail.
"you didn't get yours earlier." you push his hands away and for a moment he looks offended. his expression falters when you grab his hips and kiss his lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his boxers. he sputters, taking a step back when you reach for his boxers, his hands raising in what seems like defense..
"darling, that's not necessary." he insists, but the way you're looking at him makes his blood roar in his ears, his heart thump faster in his chest. you grab his hands instead and pull him close again. you move back on the bed and pull him with you, gentle like you're guiding him.
hesitant, he crawls on top of you.
"are you sure?" he asks, eyes roaming over you in your cute your hands cup his cheeks, your gaze warm as it roams his face. his cheeks are tinted pink, one of his hands runs over your stomach and along your waist. he hooks his thumb under your silk sleep shirt and slowly pulls it up past your chest. he glances up at you, then at your tits as he cups them. he tweaks one nipple as he ducks his head down to lap and suckle at the other.
your whines, spilling from you so easily, are his favorite noise to draw from you. a dull throb in your clit draws your attention, the familiar ache in your pussy returning with a vengeance and you attempt to clench your thighs together in hopes to mute it. you'd like to hurry, but albert hates being rushed. you know that more than anyone, that he'll take his time with you like you were a painting and absorb every detail.
you tug on his hair, adamant and desperate to get him inside of you to soothe the ache that's only worsening the longer you're without something to fill you. he pulls back upon your request
"al, darling, please." he kisses you in the gentle way he always does, the hand on your waist cupping your cheek. when he breaks away, he looks conflicted. he does want to make you happy- that's all he ever wants to do for you- but he's tempted to drag this out for as long as possible.
"alright, dear. in a moment, just be patient. i know you can." he pecks your lips again, quick and sweet and undeniably hungry. his cock is painfully hard in the thin confines of his boxers, aching to be inside you the way you need him to be.
"lift your hips, little dove." he's met with obedience and he works your pajama bottoms off, a hungry smile on his lips the moment he sees the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. his cock twitches at the sight, aches to feel those walls clench and flutter around him. he slides your panties down to your ankles, then pulls his boxers off. he hooks your legs around his waist, pulling you flush with him
"honey," you whine softly as he leans down to kiss you, simultaneously teasing your slickened cunt with the tip of his cock, a soft grunt escaping him. slowly, he presses the tip in your tight, warm entrance. you whine against his lips as he moans against yours, your weeping pussy sucking him in so nicely.
"so perfect. your cunt was made for me." he murmurs when he breaks the kiss, fully hilted inside you. with how big he is, his cock kisses the tip of your cervix and stretches you out thoroughly. you flutter around him at the praise, even more when he starts thrusting with a gentle desperation only you draw out of him. your head spins, feeling so full and yet craving more at the same time.
the heat on your cheeks matches his own. he's always been such a blushy mess when it comes to missionary, but can you blame him? the expression you make with your eyes half-lidded, lips parted in pleasure, your brows furrowed. his hands find your waist, his cold fingers gripping you tight. the velvet walls of your cunt do things to his head, makes all reasoning go out the window as he pumps his cock into you faster and faster, sacrificing all need to be gentle. though surprised at this, you love it. a similar fog fills your head and your hands move to his back, your nails digging into his skin hard when he wraps an arm around your waist, angling your hips differently.
"that's it, take it all like the good girl you are." he croons, his eyes locked on your face as he angles his hips to brush his cock against that spongy spot amongst velvet walls. you visbly light up with pleasure when he does, your nails breaking the skin of his back by mistake. you know he's only going slow to drag this out, but with the way he's bullying your cunt, you don't know how long you're going to last. each thrust fogs your mind more until you're a moaning, whimpering mess for him. you tighten around him, trying to take more despite him being balls deep already.
"such a greedy girl, my sweet thing… you're going to cum, aren't you?" you nod meekly, biting your bottom lip harder when he thumbs your clit, nearly drawing blood.
"words, dearest. use your words for me." he slows his thumb down to gentle strokes, his cold skin against yours making you hypervigilant of his touch.
"m'gonna cum- i-is that okay? can i?" you struggle to get your words out, interrupted by small gasps of your own as he pistons his cock into the spongy bundle of nerves within you.
he's smiling to himself, enjoying how eager and sweet you are, despite the circumstances. he's close himself, only disguising it until you get yours.
"go on, sweet girl, cum for me." he circles your clit faster once more, causing you to fall apart at the seams. your orgasm is intense, your hips spasming in the desperate chase for more of the white-hot ecstasy running through your blood. you feel hot at your peak, a cry of his name leaving your irritated and puffy lips, before you relax with the comedown. being the good lover he is, he coaxes you through it with soft words and gentle touches.
"that's it, pretty girl. my perfect girl. i love you."
"i love you too." you manage to say despite your hazy state, a weak smile on your pretty lips.
he wraps your legs around his waist as he cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, kissing you slowly so you're not overwhelmed. you're a mess of nothing but your own slick, his cock buried deep inside you. the lower half of his abdomen is drenched with your cum, dripping down his pelvis and thighs. your legs are unsteady and wobbly, shaking in their place.
"al," you break the kiss. the restraint he's showing is visible on his face, especially in the way he's furrowing his eyebrows, "keep going if you need to. i can take it, i promise." he nods, though worried about hurting you somehow. he likes this position much more- he's already close as is, and all he can think about is filling your womb with his kids.
he doesn't speak as he starts thrusting into you again, quick and precise yet surprisingly harsh movements into your overly sensitive cunt. and yet you're still so wet for him, your cunt weeping for more. you can hardly think, let alone tell him how good you feel.
he kisses you hard, his cum filling you up so nicely, you'll be thinking about it for days. he groans against your lips, licking into your mouth. the familiar taste of tobacco from his tongue, his seed inside you, the remnants of his colonge flooding your senses, all overwhelming you. your heart flutters. he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he recovers.
"are you okay, dearheart?" he brings a hand up to fix your shirt and kisses the corners of your lips. tired, yet content, you nod softly and kiss him again. he hums quietly and cups your cheek, his mind still a touch fuzzy. the blush from his cheeks has yet to fade, and likely won't for another hour.
one hand on your waist squeezes you and he pulls back from the kiss to pull out of you, then get off the bed. he grabs you a fresh pair of underwear and pajama pants for himself. he steps into the pants while you sit up and take the underwear from him to put on.
"you know i love you, right?" you say as the two of you lie down, his strong hands pulling you flush against his chest with your back facing him.
"i know, dove. i love you just as much." he wraps an arm around your waist, getting comfortable as the big spoon. tired, he lets his eyes flutter shut. you pull the sheets up and over the two of you, hiking them up to your waist, then follow suit in closing your eyes,
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donutz · 2 months
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Hii I wanted to ask you if you can make a yandere smiling critters x shy female smiling critter cat reader?
I love how you write, good job! If you can't place the order, I will understand💕
Sorry if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language.😭
I'll do your request, just might take a while! Also, thank you ^_^! Your English is just fine :)
Yandere Smiling Critters x shy female Smiling Critters cat reader
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Honk shoooo..
Honk shoooooo……
Honk— “Kitty! It's time ta wake up!!” Kickin said, hey, you can't sleep for too long, you have to deal with the kids. You almost flinched from Kickin's loud approach. You were slowly waking up, fastly blinking and then looking like you'll go to sleep again. “C'mon!!” He put his wing on your face.
“Kickin, I'm awake. Please.” You whisper. Gently putting your paw on his wing. He raised his eyebrows a bit from that. He smiled, and took your paw with both of his wings, softly yanking you so you can get up quicker.
You were a little sloppy, so you stood up (while sitting) and lazily leaned on Kickin. “Oof– ... At least you're up…”
The other critters were all discussing today's activity while you were (kind of) cuddling with Kickin. 
Bobby Bearhug came up to you and started cuddling with you. Now having two Smiling Critters on both of your sides!
“So, whaddya think Kitty?!” Dogday said, catching your attention. You were still tired and not processing things, so you have no idea what he meant.
“... Huh?” The critters started laughing from your oblivious sound. Dogday was laughing too, “I mean— heh, I mean what do you think about t-today’s activity..?” You were much more awake for what he said, “Oh um. I— I think it’s nice…” You muttered.
“Great!”
The children were all awake, happy(most of them) and bright(mostly). You were stepping out of the critters’ room, while holding paws with Bobby as she was explaining the main activity.
“So, do you have it now?” She asked you, thankfully you were actually paying attention this time.
“Um. Yea..” You whispered. You weren’t much of a talkative one, but that’s okay.
Some would say you were like Craftycorn, but more shy. You try to ignore those comparisons. The kids were eating their breakfast, and Bobby was still next to you.
You had to watch the kids, because just in case a kid was choking, you needed to get them to not choke. The other critters would handle the other kids and calm them down. The other critters mostly being Dogday and Bobby.
While Bobby was sitting right next to you, holding your paw, just talking about what it was like dealing with the children's emotions, while her head was on your shoulder.
A few feet away, there were some jealous critters looking at you two. “I wanna hold Kitty’s paw…” Picky said. “Me too..” Kickin added.
Dogday saw their envious mood and went over to them. “It’s okay guys, there’s no need to be jealous!” He looked over at you two.
Yea he sees no reason to be jealous. This is because he is an adult! Well it was a headcanon, and to be honest with you, it seems like a really good headcanon. Basically he was an employee at Playtime co.
And to be honest with you, AGAIN, a grown adult being jealous over two kids being kids, is VERY strange ^_^. Anywho, back to the story (⌒‿⌒)
Dogday didn’t get it! He doesn’t understand. (NO SHAME FOR MY BABY!!!!!)
The kids were done eating, and now they all were doing the activity. If you were wondering what this mystery activity is, it’s about sleep and rest.
The kids thought it was going to be boring, who wants to talk about sleeping?? But the critters wanted to talk about how good it is to get some shut eye after a long day of being awake.
Maybe it could also help Catnap with the kids falling asleep.
All the Smiling Critters were grouped together, doing actions and spouting words on why sleep is good for you.
“See?! Kickin here is all tired and sleepy (he was doing an action to represent it), not able to really do anything!”
“It is also not good for your health!”
“But Catnap is all nice and rested! Being able to walk, talk, and color while being fully awake.”
“Not getting enough sleep isn’t good for anybody! Not adults, little kids like you guys, or even teens! If you get the sleep required, you’re able to get work done quicker, be able to color, and many activities can be done!”
“Even fun activities! Drawing, doing sports, playing games, all of those things can be done in a more fun way, just by getting a few hours of sleep!”
Bubba was able to communicate with the children in a more interesting way, not a lot of them were bored from his statements. 
“Any questions?” Bubba asked, some kids raised their hands, showing their curiosity about sleep.
“What happens if I don’t sleep?”
“Well… If you don’t sleep, your body can’t operate very well. It’s like your bed is the charger, and you need that charger in order to get through the day! Some say.. If you don’t get sleep for too long, your brain.. Can eat itself!!!” He said, getting the kids all hyped up.
“Well I guess I should get some sleep!!” One kid said.
“Yea! I don't want my brain to eat itself!!” Another wailed.
“Mhm! And so you can learn about it, if you want to, I have a word search!”
The children started grabbing the papers, wanting to know some words about sleep.
“I also have something you could decode! For the kids who want to challenge their brain!”
The kids were all doing something, word searches, talking to the critters to get more facts about rest, decoding, at least an activity that can distract them.
You and Catnap were walking around, helping any of the kids, and also calming them down if they got frustrated.
You two were just being cuddly kitties.
You were pretty sure the other critters(minus Dogday) were holding back from just cuddling up to you too.
Apparently they had to help with the kids….
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Arcane Characters Being Your Co-Workers
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, co-workers, flirting, teasing, eating together, cuddles, kissing
A/N: I really hope we hear some Arcane news soon cause I am really, really itching to see these characters again.
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Jinx almost never leaves you alone while you're working. She likes poking at you, taking your tools away and then kissing you, both on the cheek and on the lips.
The only time she's calm is when she herself is working away on her gadgets. Even then there's always music in the background, her humming and small sounds of sparks and buzzing. She can sometimes stay in her lab very late but that's why she has a comfy couch there to cuddle on.
"If ya want this back sugar you're gonna have ta give me some sugar. Oh come on, I know ya can do better then that, lay one on me. Or maybe ya'd rather stop working for a bit and move this to the couch? Just to warm ya we're gonna have to pull extra hours."
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Vi finds it a bit hard to focus on work at first. He's pretty restless when she works so she needs to keep moving constantly. If she doesn't then she'll walk right over to you and start kissing your neck, that's more fun.
Can stay up longer if she needs to, she always likes walking you home, its one of her favorite things about the two of you working together. If you're both really tired you'll let her sleep over at your place, or she's just saying that as an excuse. After all you're both going to the same place tomorrow and she always waits for you.
"Yeah, I am bored, aren't you? Why do this paperwork when we could be out there putting the hurt on the bad guys. Come on sweet stuff, I know you're hungry for some action too. Or is it... a different kind of action. If you lock that door we could... ouch! Alright, sheesh, I'm joking! Or am I?"
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Caitlyn is fully focused on her work, there's very little that can break her concentration and drive once she gets started. She can sometimes get too into her work, almost forgetting you're there.
Knows she should do better but she just can't help herself, she would rather get the work out of the way as fast as possible and then spend the rest of the day with you. She trusts you to tell her when she's going overboard as she has gotten herself sick before due to working too much.
"Just a bit more and I'm done darling. I have a surprise for us tonight, so be patient. Looking at me like that won't get me to talk, you should know this by now. A trade? What kind of trade? Just one kiss? Oh, darling, my secrets are worth much more then that."
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Ekko manages his work time really well, and in turn yours. He always makes sure you both have a lot of breaks and enough time to properly eat your lunches and of course some time away for kissing.
Might get a bit distracting working with him when he's covered in grime and oil but he wants to keep you focused on the work. At least for now, you can have plenty of fun later. Loves to cuddle by the window and observe the on goings in the hideout to take his mind off work.
"Break time Firefly! You're gonna work yourself into an early grave if you keep this up. Oh yeah? And if I say you need to stop? I'm not afraid to tear you away from the desk you know. If I can catch you? Hah, doesn't that defeat the point? H-hey, don't just kiss me and run!"
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Vander wakes up early, earlier then anyone and open the Last Drop for business. Everyone already knows it opens early so its a rush from early hours of the morning all the way into the night.
Flirty when you're really close to him, leaning over the bar or telling him what drinks need to be made. In general though he likes to keep things professional, as much as he can with his friends teasing him about paying you in many different ways.
"Pay them no mind darlin' they're just being jealous of us. To tell you the truth I don't know which one of us. Don't worry, we can close up early and then I'll take you out to dinner, no kids this time, just you and me. Yeah I mean it this time! I do! They're not gonna follow us this time!"
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Silco has a lot of work to do day in and day out so having someone working together with him takes a real load off his shoulders. Not to metion that its a lot more fun to have a pretty face in the office, despite the distractions it might cause.
Pulls you by the wrist and kisses your cheek when you do well or bring him coffee. It took a while for him to get used to having someone to actually work with on equal footing but he can't deny how nice its been too. He wouldn't trade you being here for the world.
"Thank you for the warm coffee darling, it really hits the spot. Did you take some for yourself? You can have a sip of mine then. Oh! Hold on, you've got a little- Hahaha, what's wrong? I thought you liked my fingers."
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Sevika hated having you dragging along at first. She works best when she's on her own, with no one weighing her down. She wasn't sure she could trust you to watch her back at first but after seeing you punch out a few people she offered to buy you a drink.
It kind of went from there, she started bringing you along for more jobs and putting more trust in you. Kissed you on impulse when she was out with you and luckily for her you kissed back, otherwise the work dynamic would have gotten real messed up, now its just gonna be more fun.
"Care to make a bet with me sweet thing? Let's see who can take out more of these losers today. You win, you get a kiss from me. I win and I get a kiss from you. Sounds like a good deal to right? Ugh, if you get flustered that easily you're gonna end up losing."
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Viktor gets even more serious then usual when he's working. Luckily the two of you are in perfect sync and manage to get things done in a timely manner, which then lets you leave a little bit early.
In the past Viktor was very well known for spending nights at the lab but lately, since getting into a relationship with you, he's developed a healthier working schedule. Loves it when he's looking at the board and walk up behind him and casually hug him around his shoulders. He leans closer so that you can kiss him and then goes back to thinking.
"Be done soon darling, then we can go home. We can pick up some food on the way since we both skipped lunch today. Maybe we can take turns making homemade meals? Sure, we can cook together, I find that I work much better with you by my side anyway."
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Jayce sometimes teases you while at work but most of the time he does keep his focus. There have been occasions where he pulls you in his lap saying it helps his concentration but you really doubt that because it always seems to do the exact opposite.
Loves eating lunch with you and taking little walks as breaks and fresh air. He started getting desk neat instead of notes and books being scattered around everywhere to make it easier for the two of you to coordinate with each other. Otherwise his work place can get quite messy which you have teased him about before.
"Made some food for us today babe. Almost burned it but this time I was watching it closely. I also made sure that the notes I took last night are... well... readable. Sorry about just unloading on you like that last time. Wha- Why are you laughing? Unloading? What's so funn- Oh. Uhm. Not like that, I'm not sorry for that."
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Mel is very strict when it comes to work. Work time is always just work time, nothing else. There are certainly some looks passing between you two but it doesn't go much further then that while you're both on the clock.
During break though, she can't get enough of you. Kissing, touching you, keeping you close, her arm wrapped around yours, whispering into your ear, making you shiver from her words and her touch before leaving you high and dry, or rather hot and bothered and going back to work.
"We can't be doing this right now darling, there are things to do. Besides each other I mean. I won't deny I may have went too far with my teasing but I assure you I will make it up to you. Just be patient for me."
1K notes · View notes
atxxzist · 22 days
Text
sweetest lies | c.s (03)
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prev // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 7.7k
warning: none but lmk
you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.
look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.
but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.
you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"
the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.
you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.
"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.
but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.
"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.
"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."
you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.
there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.
"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.
you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.
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you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.
how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.
which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.
she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.
it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.
dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.
fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.
“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”
the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.
“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”
“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.
you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.
“shut up. you know what i mean.”
“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.
“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.
you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.
“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”
between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.
but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.
“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.
seonghwa snickers.
“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.
he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.
you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.
“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”
because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.
“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.
you snicker lowly.
“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”
he shrugs.
"that's your choice."
but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.
the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.
you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.
you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.
"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.
“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.
“pardon?”
“i’m sorry, about this morning.”
it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.
it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.
san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.
but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.
"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.
"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."
he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.
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there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.
know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.
there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.
and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.
"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.
you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.
"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.
you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.
he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.
"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.
because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.
how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.
if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.
you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.
and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.
you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.
it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.
and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.
you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.
one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.
"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."
he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.
he wouldn't want to lose you over this.
you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.
"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."
because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.
"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.
"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."
he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.
nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.
"i hope you're taking care of yourself."
you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.
"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."
you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.
and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.
"where would you be transferring?"
"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."
plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.
"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.
"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.
you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.
"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.
"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."
yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.
he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.
"apology accepted," he says.
you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.
"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."
you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.
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it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.
san: yunho told me
san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?
you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.
y/n: he really be snitching, huh
san: so it's true ☹️
you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.
y/n: maybe 🤷
san: 😔
san: just when we were starting to get along too
y/n: lol. you'll be fine.
shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.
ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.
san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away
y/n: i'm not
y/n: i just want to do something different
san: if you say so
san: you free this evening?
y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours
san: wanna do something? 🙂
y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃
san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction
you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.
y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work
san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉
--
it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.
it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.
"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.
"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."
you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.
"i had to get out of my work outfit."
he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.
"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.
"stew sounds really good right now," you say.
"soft tofu stew?"
"that's fine. but make it spicy."
you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.
"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.
"got any sodas?"
"i got some coke."
"that'll do."
he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.
"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.
"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.
"fair enough," he mumbles.
you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"
he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.
"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."
you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.
"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."
"yeah. it cost a fortune."
"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.
"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.
"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.
he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"
you scoff and shake your head.
you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.
“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”
you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.
"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"
"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."
you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.
growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.
"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.
"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."
"but why?" he pushes.
you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.
"i told you i wanted to travel."
"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.
you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.
he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.
"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.
"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.
you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."
you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.
"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."
your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.
"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.
"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"
"shut up," you hiss.
as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.
the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.
and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.
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tuesday 4:32 p.m.
san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂
san: *attachment*
y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive
y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person
it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.
getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.
you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.
san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄
y/n: i'm just looking
y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself
san: 😢
you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).
wednesday 1:20 p.m.
san: what time do you finish work today
y/n: i always finish at 6
san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂
y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare
san: ☹️
san: it's not
san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle
y/n: 🥱
san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.
something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.
"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.
"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.
he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.
"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.
"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.
you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.
"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.
"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."
"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"
he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.
"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.
"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."
"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.
on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.
"and you don't think it's nice?"
"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."
san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.
"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.
"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.
you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.
"you scared?" he tease.
"what? no," you blow.
"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.
"what kind of questions though?"
it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."
you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.
fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.
"oh fuck, it's me."
it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."
"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."
you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.
"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"
he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.
"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."
he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."
a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.
"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."
"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."
you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.
and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.
"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.
"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.
"don't ask questions that will break your heart."
"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."
"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.
"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."
"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."
"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.
"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.
"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.
"what did you think of me when we first met?"
you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.
"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."
he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.
the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.
"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"
and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.
"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."
the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.
"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.
"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.
"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."
it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.
"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."
it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.
"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.
"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.
"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.
"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."
"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.
"then i would be really upset."
you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.
"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.
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some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.
the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.
it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.
he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.
but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.
are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?
that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.
he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.
which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.
but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.
"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.
he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.
"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"
"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.
two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.
it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.
"wow. already?"
"yeah."
san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.
he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?
tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.
you think you're losing it.
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you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.
though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.
when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.
you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.
you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.
despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.
after all, what does he owe you?
you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.
but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.
long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.
“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”
you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.
his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.
“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.
it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.
then it's as if everything was a mistake.
choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.
your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.
you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.
so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.
you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.
because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?
everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.
your parents, yunho and your sister, san...
you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.
you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.
san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me
y/n: something came up sorry
y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan
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a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr
taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny
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angels4abby · 7 months
Text
— 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮? | 𝐚. 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.
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abby anderson x fem!reader. smut / kind of angsty. kinda proofread. men dni.
synopsis: you and abby have been friends for a while, but you start to to feel neglected when all her time goes to two new girls. she doesn’t know how you feel, until you suddenly snap.
content: public sex, angsty/comfort sex, public fingering, dina makes a quick appearance, mentions of smoking, a lot of use of the word ‘fuck’, fingering (reader!receiving), no outbreak/modern au, both reader and abby are in college, i think that’s it?
author’s note: finallyyyyy wrote something and posted it omfg. it’s not rlly proofread so it might suck LMFAO
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Dina's complaining about her bitching professor while you're both strolling down the hallways. As much you want to listen, her voice is washed out by the white noise filling your ears, blood rushing through your veins. She’s right there, leaning against her locker with her bag slung lazily over her shoulder.
She looks so pretty in the morning, is your first thought. That's quickly interrupted though when you notice the girls hanging around her. They're both new, freshman. They're laughing at something Abby said, one of them standing a bit too close to her. That used to be you until about a week ago.
“Just go talk to her,” Dina tells you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You just shrug, pushing the thought away as quick as it came.
"No, if she doesn't want to be around me, then so be it. I can't force her," you respond, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. There's no point in crying over something you can't fix.
“Fine then. Whatever you say. I got to go, but I’ll see you later,” Dina says, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving you to your own thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, you suddenly feel a firm tap on your shoulder. Your body tenses, instantly recognizing the touch. "Hm?" you hum, unable to trust your voice to sound steady.
“Wanna smoke with us later? Me and the girls. Around like 5?” The girls. Us. Us. Us.
Was she really that tired of hanging out with you? Was she bored? Or maybe she just liked them that much. The thought makes you grip your bag, your knuckles turning white at the contact. "No, I'm fine," is all your reply with, your voice unintentionally cold and harsh. You hate how distant and aloof you sound, but your too hurt to put up a front any longer.
“Why are you acting like this?” She questioned, playfully shoving you. An attempt to lighten the mood, but it only made you angrier. “I’m not acting like anything, Abby,” you mutter, blinking rapidly to stop any tears from falling. Why can’t she just leave and take her fucking girlfriends with her?
Abby just fucking laughs as if the two of you haven't been complete strangers for the past two, maybe even three weeks. "Jesus, what did I do to make you so bitchy?" She's so relaxed, so nonchalant, completely unaware of the pain she's causing you. It only intensifies your frustration.
“Fuck off, Abby.”
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚。⋆˚
You and Abby used to spend hours getting high on the playground after dark. It was just the two of you, talking about everything and anything, maybe even playing some music in the background. Now, you're alone, without a joint in sight.
It was pitiful, pathetic really. Sitting around, by yourself at a playground. Subconsciously waiting for someone who wasn’t going to arrive. The playground only seems dull now, a dumb place for a girl to be by herself.
“You having fun?”
Her voice startles you, catching you off guard. You ache to turn and say something, your eyes briefly shutting in response. You force yourself to keep swinging, kicking at the gravel beneath your feet. "Not really," you reply, your voice lacking any enthusiasm.
She sits on the swing next to you, gently rocking back and forth. “You done giving me the cold shoulder now?”
That’s when you lost it.
“I’m giving you the cold shoulder? For fucks sake, Abby, you’re so blind!” You didn’t even realize you were off the swing, looking down at her. “I’m sorry I’m not as fucking — funny or pretty the as the girls, but you didn’t have to do me like that.” By the end of your outburst, your breath is heavy, your lower lip trembling as tears blur your vision.
"What are you talking about?" she asks, taken aback by your sudden eruption.
"You don't talk to me anymore, Abs. You don't call or text. You don't want me anymore. You don't care," your voice trails off, barely above a whisper. Tears finally stream down your face, and you wipe them away with a shaky hand. You don't sound angry anymore, just heartbroken.
She stiffens, her hands clenching at her sides, her heart sinking as she sees the way you're looking at her. It's as if you're begging, pleading to be liked, to be loved. And she mentally berates herself for not realizing it sooner. You were right. She was oblivious, maybe even a bit foolish at times. The thought of you feeling neglected never crossed her mind.
She pulls you in by your waist, placing you in between her thighs. Her lips were parted and eyelids heavy as she looked down at you. “You’re not them. You don’t have to be them.” You weren’t sure where she was going with this, but her words make your insides twist.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, I just got lost in it. Thought you had better things to do," she whispers, her voice laced with remorse.
You shake your head at her, your chest heavy. “You guys just seemed to be hitting it off. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?” You stopped for a moment to breath. “I guess I just missed you, but it doesn’t matter,” your voice was bittersweet, your tears streaming down your face and onto the gravel beneath you.
Her hands moved down to your thigh, gently resting it there as your hands shake in front of you. She feels guilty, she feels sick. It’s gnawing at her that she made you feel like this, neglected and unwanted. Honestly, they had been a good distraction from her feelings about you, but it seems like she dragged it out for too long.
After a few beats of silence, she asked, “You don’t believe me?” She stood up from the swing, and you involuntarily started backing away. The gravel crunched underneath you as you backed away until you hit the main part of the playground.
“I’ll show you how much you mean to me,” she said, breathless, hoping her actions would convey what words couldn’t. You gulp, an odd rush of excitement coursing through you. She’s so close you can feel the warmth of her skin, the scent of weed still lingering heavy on her tank.
“Will you let me show you?” She asked, her hands finding your hips. You don’t know what her intentions are, all you can think about is that you’re on a playground at night, her hands roaming over your body and how much you fucking like her.
“Yes,” you whispered, out of breath even though you’d barely walked.
She took her right hand, slowly unzipping your pants before flicking open the button. You go to grab her wrist before she goes any farther. “Abs, we’re outsi—”
“It’s dark. No one will notice. We’ll be fine,” she whispers casually, like she has no cares in the world. As if she only care about in this moment and it feels so good.
Her hand continues down your panties, finding your clit. You let out a ragged breath as she presses down on it. Suddenly, her lips are on yours. You love her lips so much. So plush and pink and perfect. Makes you want to kiss them.
You get your chance when Abby’s lips connect with yours. You gently bite down on them, eliciting a moan from her. Pulling these noises from her so easily — has she kissed her before?
The thought distracts you as she picks you up, placing you on the playhouse platform and pulling your pants down to your ankles. Your jaw clenched and tears blur your vision again. Why do you have to be so fucking emotional?
Abby’s lost in the feeling of your body under hers, how fucking good you feel. It’s when she senses you freeze that she pulls away from where she was kissing your neck.
"Hey, hey, don't cry," she whispered, her voice laced with reassurance as she gently brushed away a stray tear cascading down your cheek. Her touch was soft, delicate, a gesture meant to show comfort and understanding.
The question escaped your lips, quivering with vulnerability, "Did you kiss her?" Your voice trembled, you wanted to take the question back as soon as the words left your mouth. You hated how your wavering actions were jeopardizing the chance to win her back. The way your voice quivered and sank into the depths of insecurity.
"No," she responded, her voice sincere. "I didn't kiss her. I never wanted to. It's only you." Her words spilled forth with an eagerness to prove that she was telling the truth, to remove any lingering doubts. She yearned to please you, to show you that your trust was not misplaced.
Her fingers moved down to your slit, flushing at the wetness beneath your panties, her fingertips careful to dip between your lips.
Your hips bucked against her hand, searching for any kind of friction as you kissed her again. Deeper, more passionate this time. Wanting her so fucking bad.
“Show me then,” you muttered, your voice muffled due to her tongue stuffed into your mouth. A thick finger pressed into your needy cunt and you whimper from the intrusion, your walls gripping it tightly.
“That’s it, baby,” Abby purred, looking fascinated at how your body moves for her, how warm and wet you feel around her.
Both of you have completely forgotten what the point of being out here was, your mind loosing its sense of self as she slips another finger into you, stretching you out nicely.
You tilted your head back, unintentionally exposing your neck to her, which she eagerly lunged at.
Her tongue smoothed over your supple skin, teasing and tasting as the thrusts of her finger gradually grew harder, your back arching pitifully.
Your hips lift off the platform of the steps, thighs quivering at the sheer sensation of being filled. Suddenly, her fingers experimentally curl, causing a broken cry to push past your lips.
You throb and twitch against her palm, your panties soaked, and a big, shamefully wet spot forming on your pants. You want to be embarrassed, but you can’t bring yourself to, not with how good Abby’s fucking you right now.
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you vividly feel the aching clench of your walls around her fingers, sucking her fingers deeper inside you.
“Abs…I-I’m gonna—“
“I know, baby. Go on, cum for me.”
That’s what sends you over the edge.
You push your hips into her hand, grinding your clit against her palm as she keeps on fucking you, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs shake, your weary gaze finding her as you shamelessly cum on her hand, drenching your bottoms in your juices. She decided at that moment that this was her favorite sight, you cumming all over her fingers. You were completely and only hers. It scared the hell out of her, she couldn’t lie, but she knew it.
Giving you a moment to even out your breath, slowly withdrawing her fingers from your sensitive hole, which you wince at. She fixes your pants to the best of her ability, and helps you stand up, letting you lean your weight onto her.
“You believe me now?”
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© 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬��𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper consent or credit.
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