#not that anyone has to try to stop me from attempting
Text
[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six.
୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami
୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex
୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!
Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?
And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.
But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”
The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?
“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.
“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.
Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.
You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.
Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.
Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”
He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.
His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.
"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."
He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.
The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"
Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?
“Sure.”
“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”
Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”
You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.
“I take it you come here often?”
The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”
The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."
"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."
He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.
"Nanami, stop."
"Stop what?"
"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."
It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.
Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.
You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.
“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.
Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”
“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.
Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”
The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.
“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”
“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be.
You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.
The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”
“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess it did.”
“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”
“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”
You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”
He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.
“Why go through the trouble?”
Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”
A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”
Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”
“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”
Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. You look fun-deprived.”
Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”
“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”
He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”
Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”
likes and reblogs are appreciated !
tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82
#❝ 𝐑𝐀𝐄’𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ❞#jjk smau#jjk texts#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk crack#jjk smut#kento smut#nanami kento#nanami x y/n#nanami fluff#nanami x you#jjk nanami#nanami smut#jjk kento#toji smut#geto smut#choso smut#gojo smut#social media au#enemies to friends to lovers
387 notes
·
View notes
Text
AMERICAN GIRL (PART FOUR)
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader
Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo
The following day,�� you went about your usual routine. Working in the shop, spending time with Ada, and avoiding Grace at all costs. But your mind couldn't stop drifting back to Tommy and that moment last night. The way his eyes bore into yours, igniting a flame inside of you that you couldn't ignore.
It was forbidden, wrong even, but you couldn't help the way you felt. You wanted him, there was no denying it. But at what cost?
You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts that plagued your mind but when you saw him again with Lizzie that day, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
It was irrational, you knew it was, but you couldn't help the way you felt.
"Why does he see her, you think?" you asked Ada , attempting to sound as casual as possible, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the tightness in your voice or the yearning that was etched into your eyes.
"You mean Tommy?" Ada asked, squinting as she looked in the direction where you were gazing.
"Yes, why do you think Tommy is seeing Lizzie, or any other prostitute for that matter?" you asked Ada, feigning interest in a stack of fabric samples she had spread on the counter before her.
Ada gave you a sidelong glance before turning to face you fully. "I thought that was obvious," she then chuckled. "For pleasure of course,” she nonchalantly said, flipping through the fabrics, but not before catching a hint of a blush on your cheeks.
You felt the sudden knot in your stomach. It was the same question gnawing at the back of your mind ever since that one fateful night, but it took you this long to finally gather enough courage to voice it out. You couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in her response.
"But he's in a relationship with Grace," you blurted out, biting your lip the moment after. Ada merely shrugged.
"I suppose, but Tommy has never been one to be held down by societal norms and expectations. Despite, many men who can afford it see whores these days,” Ada replied with a casual shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Men think with their cocks. It's all about sex for them and, quite frankly, I would be willing to pay for it too if I had the option. It makes things much less complicated,” Ada said offhandedly as she continued to flip through the fabric samples, making a mental note of the ones she wanted to purchase.
"Is it really that good?" you asked, curious and slightly taken aback by her blatant honesty.
"Well, that depends on your definition of good," Ada smiled wryly. "With the right man, it can be amazing," she told you before asking you a question. "Have you never done it before?" Ada asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and looked away, studying the intricate pattern on the fabric before you.
"No, I haven't," you muttered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been in jail for two years and before that I never felt...you know, attracted to anyone before." You glanced up at Ada, hoping she would understand.
"I would never have guessed it Y/N. You are so confident, even around my brothers who can be quite intimidating. I thought surely you must have had a lover or two in the past," Ada stated, intrigued.
"No, there was never really anyone who caught my eye and to be honest, I don't think I was ever truly ready for something like that," you confessed, looking up to meet Ada's gaze. "But I can't say I haven't thought about it before. Especially after coming here."
"Oh god, you need to stay away from men in this area," Ada chuckled. "You should come and visit me in London. I will take you out. The men there are different. Sophisticated, even. You will see,” Ada winked slyly.
You smiled at the thought, already beginning to feel the excitement build inside of you. "I would like that, Ada. I truly would."
The exchange with Ada gave you a small reprieve from the chaos inside your mind, but the thoughts of Thomas and your growing desires lingered in your consciousness.
When the day came to an end however, you felt like drowning out these irrational and somewhat irritating thoughts about a man you knew you could not have and asked Ada whether she wanted to join you for a drink at any of the local establishments.
"A drink?" she asked, chuckling. "There are only pubs around here and none of them are really appealing to say the least. Despite, I must be home for Karl. One of my maids is sick," she added, crinkling her nose in distaste.
"I don't think I have ever been to a pub," you confessed, somewhat abashedly, seeing that you had only ever visited a few clubs in New York, all of which had been elegant and modern for the times.
"Well, you are not missing much," Ada replied, screwing her face in a wince. "But, if you insist, there are a few ones around here that are safe. Go to the Garisson and tell them that you are a Shelby. That way you will be served a drink, and no one will lay a hand on you unless you want them to. If you run into any trouble though, get them to call Tommy or Arthur," Ada said with a hint of a smile.
You looked at her, puzzled, not quite understanding the meaning behind her words. You were unsure what you needed protection from and why you wouldn't be served a drink in the first place, but you didn't ask.
"All right, I will keep that in mind," you replied, pursing your lips and nodding your head ever so slightly.
Ada left shortly after that, leaving you alone in the empty shop and you were quick to close up before embarking on your maiden voyage to one of these notorious local establishments.
You walked past the dimly lit streets of Birmingham, the cobblestone illuminated by the soft orange glow from gas streetlamps that lined the streets. You ventured further, passing the occasional passersby, feeling as though all eyes were upon you. Your heartbeat faster with every footstep as you grew closer to your unknown destination and you wondered whether, perhaps, this was not such a good idea after all.
You already felt out of place in this city, with your elegant dress and your high heels from New York. You were aware that this was not the kind of place that women like you dared to step foot in, but you were determined to push your boundaries and, perhaps, learn something new about yourself - and the world around you.
The Garisson was unremarkable among the neighbouring buildings, but once you stepped inside, you felt the atmosphere instantly change. It was charged with a tense, almost palpable energy, a strange combination of excitement and danger that seemed to reverberate through the air.
When you entered, the men inside turned to look at you, their gazes lingering on your figure for a moment before turning back to their drinks. You could feel the weight of their stares, but you didn't let it intimidate you. Instead, you walked with a newfound confidence, feeling an unexpected sense of power.
You made your way to the bar and took a seat, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around the room. Yet, despite the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, there was something oddly liberating about being in a place where everyone seemed to be living on the edge.
"I am afraid I can't serve you ma'am," the man behind the bar said, breaking the spell of your thoughts.
You blinked, surprised by his words. "I'm sorry?" you asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly.
The bartender nodded, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but we don't serve women here," he explained.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "But I thought the Garisson was a public house?" you asked, your confusion growing.
The bartender shrugged. "It is, but that doesn't mean we serve women," he replied. "It's just the way things are around here."
His words hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the unspoken rules that governed this world. You felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within you, but you held your tongue, refusing to let these men see you falter.
"I see," you said calmly, mustering every ounce of strength and dignity to push down the hurt while contemplating your next move just as you heard a familiar voice from the distance.
"It's alright. She's with me," the voice said, cutting through the tension. You turned to see Thomas Shelby making his way towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.
The bartender nodded, his gaze flicking between you and Thomas before he finally relented. "Of course, Mr Shelby. I am sorry. I did not know," the bartender apologized, eyes wide with embarrassment. "What can I get you, ma'am?" the bartender asked, his tone now deferential.
But Thomas hadn't taken his eyes off you. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and husky. He was so close to you now that you could feel his warm breath on your face.
You swallowed hard; your throat suddenly dry. "I was just... looking for some... entertainment," you stammered, feeling like a schoolgirl again before quickly ordering a drink with the barman.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Entertainment, eh?" he chuckled. "This is fucking Birmingham, Love. There is no entertainment here unless you wish to stand up there and fucking sing,” Thomas chuckled, motioning towards the makeshift stage. He was so near that you could feel the heat emanating from his body and it sent a ripple of excitement through you.
"And I just may, after a glass of whiskey or two," you replied, cocking your head to one side as you gave him a playful grin that belied the tension between them.
Thomas chuckled, the deep rumbling sound drawing the attention of those around them. It wasn't long before the whispers and murmurs filled the air, the patrons whispering and speculating about the nature of your relationship.
The thought made you feel uncomfortable, and you shifted uncomfortably on your stool, but Thomas didn't seem to notice or care.
"No," he said, nonetheless. "Have your drink and then I will get one of my men to drive you home, eh. This is no place for a woman like you,” Thomas sighed, his voice low as he leaned against the bar. His words felt almost like a blow, and you couldn't quite understand why.
"Well, I want to stay, and you are going to buy me another drink after I am done with this one," you told him as you quickly downed the amber liquid in front of you before ordering another.
Thomas studied you for a moment, his gaze intense and penetrating. "And why would I do that?" Thomas asked, arching an eyebrow. There was an amused glint in his eyes, but you could also detect a hint of sincerity beneath that.
"Well, because if you do, then I may keep this little secret of yours from my lovely stepmother Grace," you said, matching his smirk as you revealed your trump card.
Thomas' eyes narrowed for a moment, as if sizing you up and assessing whether you were bluffing or not.
"What little secret?" Thomas growled, arching an eyebrow as he leaned closer, invading your personal space.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on you before leaning closer and whispering into his ear almost seductively. "Lizzie Stark," was all that you said, watching as Thomas's expression shifted at the mention of the name. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes darkening before he too whispered into your ear.
"Another whiskey?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear and you nodded.
"Yes, and make it a double this time."
The intensity between you and Thomas had grown palpable. You had pushed a button that no one else could, daring to confront him about what usually remained unspoken.
Thomas gave you a curt nod before signalling to the bartender for a double whiskey. He downed his drink in one swift motion, his eyes never leaving yours for even a moment. The look in his eyes was something you had never seen before - it was intense, powerful and overwhelming. It was full of the promise of passion, forbidden and uninhibited.
You watched him as he placed the empty glass back on the counter with a muted clink, swallowed hard and took a deep, steadying breath. Your heart raced in your chest and your head swam dizzily with the potency of the liquor as well as the proximity of Thomas Shelby.
You too drank your double whiskey in one swift motion, feeling the burn as it travelled down your throat and warmed your belly. The world seemed to tilt slightly with each passing moment, and you were glad for the bar to steady you in place.
Eventually, after a few more drinks, you indeed made up on stage, looking way out place in this rather run down establishment. Glamorous and with an unmistakable American charm, you stood out. In that moment, the entire bar fell silent, all eyes trained on you as you stood up tall.
"Fuck," Tommy murmured to himself as Arthur and John took their places next to him by the bar in readiness for the show.
"Finn has been having his eye on that one, Tom. And I can't fucking blame him," John piped up, nodding towards the stage where you now stood.
"Finn couldn't handle her," Tommy brushed John's comment off as he looked at you with a mix of admiration and desire, the latter intensifying as you started singing.
You had chosen a jazzy, sultry tune that perfectly suited your velvety voice and captivating stage presence and the patrons at the pub watched in astonishment at this unexpected interlude, but you paid them no mind.
Your voice, steady and confident, echoed throughout the room, sweeping everyone off their feet. The energy in the room had shifted from tense and uneasy to electric, filled with raw emotion that pulsed through your veins.
The room was full of men, not a single woman in sight, and as you sang, you felt like you commanded their attention, bending them to your will with the melody of your voice.
But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw him rise from his seat. Thomas Shelby.
His presence was overpowering, commanding attention without any effort. A shiver ran down your spine as those deep blue eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive in his gaze.
He moved closer, the throngs of whispering men parting in his wake.
He was a force to be reckoned with, radiating authority and desire that made your heart race: with fear, with excitement, or perhaps a little bit of both.
Two other men whom you did not know also moved closer, trying to make their move as you finished the song. They were rough-looking men, clearly not used to elegance or refinement, the types that frequented such establishments often. But they were no match for Thomas Shelby.
He moved in front of them just as they reached you, his movements quick and lethal, a silent warning etched on his face. The two men hesitated, sensing the danger in his eyes, and then turned around, choosing not to press their luck.
Thomas offered you a hand, and you took it gratefully, feeling like you needed his support more than ever before as you finished signing and descended from the stage.
Cheers erupted around you as you made your way back to the bar, your heart still pounding with the rush of singing onstage.
Tommy's hand lingered at your waist, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little.
"You shouldn't have done that Love, drawing these men's attention like this," Thomas murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.
"I didn't mean to," you replied, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and confusion. "I just...I love to sing, and it felt good to let go, even for just a moment."
Thomas looked at you, his gaze softening just a fraction. "I know," he said. "But around here, attention can quickly turn into danger. Men like these have not seen a woman like you before, and they will try to have you in any way they can," Thomas continued, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent a tremble down your spine.
His finger brushed gently against your cheek, a feather-soft touch that caused you to gasp before blushing scarlet. Your heart raced in your chest, aware that his words had some weight to them but also appreciating the gentle way he offered them.
You nodded silently, a mix of fear and gratitude coursing through you. Thomas Shelby had a reputation for being a dangerous man, but right now, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his protection.
"Now, are you going to have another drink or are you going to allow me to take you home?" Thomas' voice was low and gravelly in your ear, his arm still lightly draped around your waist. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and setting your heart racing.
"Home, please," you replied softly, your emotions still swirling from the impromptu performance and the attention you received from these strange men. The energy in the pub had shifted once again, becoming charged with a tension that unnerved you slightly. But Thomas' presence was a comforting one, drawing you nearer to him with each passing moment.
He signalled to the bartender for your coat, and you slipped it on gratefully, feeling the comforting weight of the fabric against your skin.
The moment you stepped outside, the frigid winter air hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you from the haze of the pub's atmosphere. You shivered involuntarily, wrapping your coat tighter around your body.
Thomas' arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to him in a protective gesture as several men kept looking at you with predatory eyes from across the street. He led you to the curb, signalling for one of his men to bring the car around.
In the distance, the sound of an approaching motor roared in the silence of the night. Your breath hitched as the vehicle sped towards you, and then slowed down just in time, stopping inches away from where you and Thomas stood.
The door swung open, and Thomas guided you inside, settling into the plush leather seat with a sigh.
The engine hummed to life, and the warmth of the car seeped into your bones, causing you to relax slightly. You watched as the streets of Birmingham passed by in a blur, the city streets abandoned at this late hour.
Thomas didn't speak, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel his intensity radiating from him. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, unsure of what to say or do.
Despite your earlier confrontation with him, you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his presence.
A warm flush spread across your cheeks and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart raced in your chest.
Thomas stole a glance at you, his eyes softening as he took in your nervous mannerisms. He didn't say anything, but the way he shifted his position in the seat told you that he was closer now, his arm brushing against yours and sending an electric current through your body.
"You did well up there," Thomas murmured, breaking the silence between you. "The men loved you."
Your blush deepened, and you shrugged off his compliment.
"I just sang a song. It's not a big deal," you replied softly, your gaze fixed on the passing buildings.
"You didn't just sign a song Love. You performed. There is a difference," Thomas continued, determination in his voice. The way he said it stirred something inside you, and your heart skipped a beat.
You fell silent again, lost in thoughts as you watched the streets of Birmingham pass by. Your mind raced with everything that had happened since you arrived in the city.
So many changes, so many new experiences, and so many unanswered questions, all of which you put aside when Tommy's Bently pulled up in front of Arrow House, the magnificent building that you and your sister now called home.
He got out of the car, coming around to open the door for you, offering his arm as he led you towards the staircase leading up to the grand wooden entrance.
His touch was firm and reassuring, and despite your earlier reservations, you felt safe under his protection.
"Thank you," you murmured, unsure of what else to say as you entered the house.
"It was nothing," he replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You should get some sleep, Y/N. It's been a long day," Thomas said, his voice low and gentle as he caressed your cheek. You blinked, his touch making you feel suddenly lightheaded. You couldn't remember the last time someone had been so tender with you.
"Yes, it has," you agreed, leaning into his touch for a moment.
Thomas' gaze held yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you stared into the depths of his blue eyes. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, and before you knew what was happening, his lips were on yours. It was a gentle kiss, one filled with both longing and tenderness, and you found yourself responding in kind. But all too soon, the kiss ended, and Thomas pulled away, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he said softly before turning and walking away towards the left as if he had suddenly changed his mind, leaving you to watch him disappear into his office upstairs.
"Goodnight," your murmured almost to yourself, unaware of the fact that you had been watched by someone else.
Tags:
@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn
@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts
@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22
#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x you#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#tommy shelby smut#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby au#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby smut#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby fanfic
201 notes
·
View notes
Note
Alright, I have to know who out of the four siblings is a Daddy's boy/girl and who is a Papa's boy/girl?
I can kind of tell that Stellar is a Papa's girl and Polarity is a Daddy's boy but what about Void and Andromeda?
Stellar would say she has no favorite parent, but she is definitely more emotionally close with Shadow! She and Shadow are also the most physically affectionate, with Stellar often running up to hug him or jump into his arms when he comes home. That being said, she can find him to be overbearing or overprotective at times. Contrastingly, Sonic is the fun parent. 😂 He lets her get away with way more stuff, so the two of them are often partners in crime. A common phrase whispered between them is, "Don't tell papa."
Andromeda would definitely find it easier to relate to Shadow! The two of them would go shopping, out to eat, or to the spa together. That being said, they'd also fight unlike anyone else in the house. 😂 If Shadow tried to stop Andromeda from doing something she wanted to do, it'd become a big argument that could result in them being mad at each other for days. She and Sonic relate less in terms of interests, but she really appreciates his presence regardless. To Andromeda, he's very calming and relaxing to be around (despite his cheesy jokes and sarcastic remarks). The two of them would often watch movies together!
Polarity would love both of his dads, but Sonic would definitely be who he is closest to. He would think he is the coolest!! He'd love nothing more than hanging out with him and trying to copy everything he does. 😂 People would tease Sonic for having a little mini-me following him around. Shadow would actually find his attempts at imitating Sonic to be super endearing. He would have a big soft spot for all of his Sonic-like mannerisms.
Void's favorite is definitely Sonic. He and Shadow have a tendency to bump heads a lot (mainly because Shadow sees a lot of things he doesn't like about himself in Void). Void doesn't appreciate being told what to do, and Shadow doesn't appreciate his disobedience. 😂 Void likes Sonic for a lot of the same reasons Shadow does (not that Shadow would ever admit those reasons) and he appreciates that Sonic knows when to give him space. Sonic just seems to know how to approach him better than Shadow does.
#answered asks#lore dump#sibling au#fankid au#stellar the hedgehog#andromeda the hedgehog#polarity the hedgehog#void the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sth#sonadow#shadonic#sonadow fankid#sonadow fanchild
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
Building Each Other Up - Epilogue
Read Pt. 1 here, Pt. 2 here, Pt. 3 here, and Pt. 4 here.
Mark's (now Ali's) POV:
It's been five months since the competition, and since then, Shane agreed to move in with me. It's been great actually dating instead of just hooking up, and I couldn’t be happier.
Initially, I thought that him fucking me in that body would be a one-off thing, and we’d switch back, but we fell kinda naturally into our new roles. He fucks me so hard every night and, while he has let me top a couple of times, he’s still always definitely the dom. That’s carried over into our daily lives too. He takes care of every little thing, treating me to romantic dinners. cleaning up around the house, and spending all his money on me. Its fantastic.
But I think most of all, I am enjoying being in out and in an age-appropriate relationship with a young guy. When we walk down the street together, all anyone sees is two incredibly hot boyfriends – which is exactly what we are.
---
It was all going great until one day out of nowhere, we ran into Mark at a gay bar of all places. He was flirting with a younger guy before he caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye. I guess he liked the taste of himself when he had accidentally possessed Ali a few months ago, who would’ve thought.
I started to back away, but he caught up to me and cornered me.
"Hey, you’re that kid Ali, where the fuck is Shane … I mean Mark," he yelled at me.
I kind of timidly backed into the corner by the bathrooms, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.
Shane, my savior, immediately noticed my distress and left the bar to come to my rescue.
"Babe, is there a problem here?" he said, his voice calm but firm.
Mark turned around and saw Shane standing menacingly behind him, his arms crossed over his chest and a steely glint in his eyes.
"Fuck, I knew I’d find you eventually," said Mark, his voice dripping with anger.
Without hesitation, he whipped out a small vial from his pocket and downed it immediately before quickly latching onto Shane's back.
"Give me back my body!" he yelled, his voice desperate and frantic.
A look of shock crossed Mark’s face as he realized that he wasn't sinking into Shane's body as he had expected.
"What the fuck, dude?" Shane exclaimed, throwing him off. "You gotta get a grip."
Mark stumbled backward, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "What did you do?" he asks, his confusion evident in his voice.
Shane smirks, his gaze unwavering as he meets Mark's eyes. "Ohhh, you must be Mark," he says. "Ali said you'd show up sooner or later. Too bad your potions won’t work."
---
You see, a few weeks after we swapped, I asked Ali if he wanted to swap back. I explained that my "former trainer Mark" was crazy and had managed to convince himself that my body was actually his and would not stop reaching out to me, trying to take it back. I was managing it, but if he was in "my" body instead, it would be even more difficult to manage.
In no uncertain terms, he told me no to swapping back. I understood. That body and the power it had was intoxicating. And honestly, I didn’t mind being his super perfect boyfriend—I mean look how cute I am.
"Okay," I said, accepting his decision, "then we need to seal ourselves in."
I had done a fair amount of research on a new potion that would make us impervious to the effects of the original. I handed him a vial and said, "If you're sure this is what you want."
He downed it without hesitation, and I downed mine as well. He pulled me in for a passionate kiss and said, "I love you, Ali."
"I love you too, Shane," I replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
----
"Dude, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is my body. You need to get lost," said Shane, his voice firm and commanding.
In that moment, Mark shot me a knowing look. If his body didn’t know who he was, then I must be the one he was really looking for. He quickly ran and attempted jump into me instead, which only threw me back against the wall. The force of the impact knocked the breath out of me, and I struggled to regain my bearings.
That was enough to grab the attention of the bouncers. Shane quickly restrained Mark until they grabbed him and were able to lead him out of the club.
Shane rushed back over to me, concern etched on his face. "Babe, are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for any signs of injury.
"Yeah, I'm alright," I reassured him, forcing a smile despite the lingering soreness. "I'm just gonna use the restroom real quick."
He nodded, his expression still tinged with worry. "Okay, I'll be waiting out here for you."
As I collected myself inside the restroom, I quickly dropped the worried look and smirked to myself. My sealing potion had worked for both of us. Mark wouldn’t be causing us any problems, and I was free to enjoy the hunky boyfriend I had built for myself carefree.
I raised my phone up to take a quick selfie, capturing the moment as a reminder of my victory. Fuck, the best is only yet to come.
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
@thyvessel the time has come {also this is the trigger warning for anyone sensitive to this content^}
Alastor x Pet!Reader
Alastor pushed open the door, the evening's cool air trailing behind him. He flicked on the lights, illuminating the grand yet oddly intimate apartment. The leather couch, the marble countertops, the bookshelves lined with ancient texts—everything seemed in place, except for me.
I heard the door creak open, signaling Alastor's return. The echo reverberated through the house, reaching me where I was huddled under the blankets in his bed. I clutched his coat tighter, burying my face into the fabric to breathe in his scent. It was the only thing that could ground me, a lifeline in the midst of my spiraling panic.
“Pet?” he called, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. Usually, I was waiting for him, eager eyes and an excitable spirit, my demon form juxtaposed with a demeanor more fitting for a beloved animal. It’s why he was so fond of using those pretty green chains on me- the ones that signaled that he owned my soul. Now, the absence of my usual cheerfulness and my general presence, my usual eagerness to greet him home… it was jarring. The silence that greeted him was unsettling.
My breaths were shallow and erratic, my chest tightening as if it were being squeezed by an invisible force. I had tried to calm down, tried every technique I knew, but nothing worked. My nails had dug into my arms, leaving angry, red lines in a desperate attempt to feel something other than the overwhelming fear. The sting was a cruel reminder of my failure to stay composed, but I couldn't stop.
Just a little more, I just had to dig a little deeper. My own bloodied and torn skin was stuck beneath my fingernails as I scratched at my arms, desperately trying- hoping, that against all odds, it’d help. It didn’t.
The sound of Alastor's footsteps grew louder as he approached the bedroom echoing softly against the hardwood floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting him to see me like this. I felt ashamed, like a broken thing. I heard the door open, then silence as he took in the scene before him. The sight made his chest tighten. My hands, peeking out from the fabric, were red and raw, nails ragged from scratching.
"Pet," Alastor whispered, his voice gentle now as he approached the bed. He sat on the edge, careful not to startle me. His hand rested lightly on my blanket-covered form, feeling the rapid rise and fall of my breaths. "I'm here."
I peeked out from beneath the cover, eyes wide and wet with tears. The sight of him brought a mix of relief and fresh sobs. Alastor's presence, usually a source of comfort, was overwhelming in the wake of my panic.
"Hey, there," he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur that contrasted sharply with the chaos in my head. I didn't respond, couldn't respond. All I could do was focus on his scent, on the fact that he was here now. His static softened, turning to an almost calming sort of white noise.
"I'm sorry," I choked out, trying to shrink further into myself. "I didn't mean to—"
I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me, the warmth of his body radiating through the blankets. He didn't pull them away or force me to uncover myself. Instead, he laid a hand on top of the cocoon I had made. "Shh, it's okay," he interrupted, gently pulling the blanket down just enough to reveal my face. "You don't have to explain. I'm here now."
I felt the tears come, hot and uncontrollable. I was supposed to be strong, to be his perfect pet, and yet here I was, a trembling mess under the covers. But Alastor didn't chastise me. He didn't tell me to stop crying or to pull myself together. Instead, he gently tugged at the blanket, just enough to see my face.
He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my cheek, tracing the wet tracks of my tears. "Can I hold you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern and something else I couldn't quite place. His ears hung lower than usual. I nodded and with slow, deliberate movements, he drew me into his lap, cradling me like something precious. I clung to his coat, burying my face in the fabric, inhaling his scent deeply. It grounded me, a reminder of safety.
"You scratched yourself up pretty bad," Alastor murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my body. He lifted my hands, inspecting the damage with a frown. "Why didn't you call for me?"
My breath hitched. "I—I didn't want to bother you. You were out, and I… I…."
Alastor sighed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "You're never a bother to me, Pet. Never." He held me tighter, rocking me slightly as if to soothe the tremors still running through my body. "Next time, just call for me, okay? I don't care what I'm doing. You're more important."
I nodded, the tension in my body slowly unwinding as his warmth enveloped me. The room was filled with the soft radio static that accompanied him everywhere, punctuated only by the soft hum of the heater and the rhythmic beat of his heart against my ear. His embrace was firm yet gentle, his hand running through my hair in slow, calming strokes. I clung to him, my fingers gripping his shirt as if letting go would mean drowning in my panic again.
"You’re safe," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "I’m here. You’re safe."
His words were a balm to my frayed nerves, a reminder that I wasn't alone. I took a shaky breath, feeling the tension slowly start to ebb away. Alastor rocked me gently, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against my own erratic one. I focused on the rhythm, tapping my finger as I held onto him.
“You like that?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. I hardly nodded, but he got the message. He started humming lightly, the noise a welcome distraction, right in time with the rhythm of everything else. Easy to get lost in.
For a while, we stayed like that, tangled together in a protective cocoon. He didn't rush me or demand explanations. He simply held me, his presence a silent promise that I was more than just another soul, that I mattered.
When my breathing finally steadied, and the tears began to subside, I looked up at him, my vision blurry but clear enough to see the softness in his gaze.
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, my voice hoarse.
He smiled, a small, reassuring smile. "Anytime," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I’m always here for you."
His words settled over me like a blanket, warm and comforting. I snuggled closer, finally allowing most remnants of my panic to melt away. I was anxious, still, but better. And having him with me… just being there, running his fingers through my hair was more than enough. In that moment, I realized that no matter how I saw myself, no matter how broken or weak, Alastor saw something worth comforting, something worth protecting. And for now, that was enough to calm the storm within me.
#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#the radio demon#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#hazbin fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#Hazbin hotel fanfic#the radio demon x reader#the radio demon x you
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
What's up with MK?
[a theory crafted thru pure over analysis and attachment to minor characters/scenes]
{thank you to @trix-with-wifi-access for listening to my rants and assisting in my insanity}
spoilers for Lego Monkie Kid, s5 trailer not directly included tho.
If any of this is unintelligible, blame the fact it's like 6am and I'm only writing all of this outta a sudden burst of motivation.
I don't think MK is okay
Yeah, stating obvious aren't I? Well, I don't mean mentally. Ofc he's not mentally okay. I mean physically (or magically at this point tbh)
I think there's something Wrong with whatever MK is. But b4 I dive too deep into that, let's set up some bases.
MK's monkie statue. We all know that's his. He showed to Pigsy's doorstep covered in clay, which considering Nüwa, this statue is 100% made of.
The thing I wish to point out is that it's broken. Nearly in half. Something went wrong here.
We know we can't trust a word outta Subohdi's mouth, considering that not only does he claim MK's statue was remade from the fragments of Wukong's egg (which was made of stone, not clay) and even says himself that he doesn't know what's up with MK.
Anyway. As you likely recall, right after all of this, The Ink Curse throws Subohdi out of the way and appears directly to MK.
The little statue disappears, and the curse emerges from an ink puddle stemming partly from the rock.
And it appears looking like Monkie!MK.
The Curse (fuck it I'm tired of typing that. This is why we have fan names—) Mozhi doesn't appear like this to anyone else, other than manifesting as past Wukong to mock him alone. Wukong, also a monkie.
but it only does that after it's been directly provoked and attacked. MK didn't do anything, and Mozhi still appeared. In a mockery of what he truly is.
Mozhi appears in the form of an animal. In the form of everything MK's denying. It switches back and forth between "we" and "you". I also wish to mention MK's slip up with "we help people"
For some reason, Mozhi feels the need to directly confront MK, to the point of even attacking him with his own powers (and... Well I'll save that for another post actually).
Why?
Why did Mozhi decide that MK being in denial of what he is was so bad it needed to appear and beat the truth into him?
"This is your fate, your friends will turn on you, seeing you for the monster you will become. They will destroy you, Harbinger Of Chaos"
"Then prove us wrong."
is it just me, or did this seem like a last minute Warning? To be careful of what you will become, or you will be destroyed by your own friends?
Prove us wrong. Us. MK believes it. MK believes that his friends will inevitably turn on him. He doesn't just need to prove Mozhi wrong. He has to prove himself wrong.
Harbinger Of Chaos. We're all so tired of hearing that title, aren't we? Everyone in fandom talks about it non-stop. But I have seen very few mention something rather important.
Chaos is yin. The darkness with the speck of light.
and of course, yin cannot exist without yang.
Chaos cannot exist without Order.
I think that's what happened to the statue. Chaos lost it's Order, dark lost it's light, and now everything is eternally doomed. Unless said Order is found of course, but I'll get into that eventually.
What would the power of chaos do to make up for the lack of order? Well, it'd try to find something to fill the void. To fix that broken half. Anything will do, it just needs more power. It's too weak, it cannot survive like this. Without order.
... I'll just say it. I'm 99% sure MK's actual Mystic Monkie Power™ is Mimicking. The desperate attempt of chaos to fix what's broken without the necessary tools.
Would make thematic sense too. Chaos is unpredictable, Clay is easy to mold, etc etc.
But what does this really have to do with anything? Well, let's tie all those orange threads together, hm?
MK is not as strong as Wukong or even Macaque, two of the other 4 Mystic Monkies. Oh he's certainly strong (need I remind you of what he did to Azure) but simply not as undyingly OP as the SundialDuo/ShadowPeach.
He's weakened by whatever happened to his statue. Whatever ripped Order from Chaos.
MK's clay statue is broken almost in half, and he's only approximately half as strong as he really should be.
I think MK is only one half of a Mystic Monkie that was supposed to truly embody Yin/Yang. Something happened, and the statue that was supposed to become that monkie was broken.
MK winds up with most of what he needs to survive and stay stable (as shown by his statue being about 60% intact) but he's not as strong as he should be, and is left scrambling for anything that can give him even a scrap of the power he's supposed to have.
What happened to the other half? What happened to Order? Well, that leads into another theory... But let's just say I have my suspicions involving a barely-a-character that I got too attached to.
after all, what's more orderly than memories?
Ignoring that, focusing back on MK. My prediction for s5 is him finding out about this from Nüwa. After all, my theory is that she broke the statue.
... Ah, forgot to mention that. Allow me to elaborate.
I think Nüwa was genuinely excited to create something new. Something powerful. A Mystic Monkie! Finally!
But why was she allowed to do this? Because there was one less Mystic Monkie. With Macaque dead for who even knows how long, there was a long time where there were only 3 of the original 4 Mystic Monkies.
Nüwa took this opportunity and ran with it, getting permission from whoever to create a replacement, since Mac didn't seem to be coming back.
But come back he did! And having 5 Mystic Monkies running around would be such a pain to keep track of, especially considering what happened with Wukong!
So, Nüwa was either commanded to break the statue, or did it herself. Destroy what she had created so that nothing like Wukong would ever happen again
Oh but how attached she got, to a little statue not even brought to life yet. So much potential. So much power. Made of the same Clay she carefully crafted her original, precious humans out of. She always loved to create, but was never allowed to bring what she made to life again.
... Well, this time they only said not to have another Mystic Monkie running around... Nobody said she couldn't bend the rules a bit.
With that, the statue was broken. Her precious clay, her yin, her little Chaos. She put him with the humans. They'd take good care of another clay like them! She doesn't even remember what she did with yang, the Order, the—... the other half. She was too focused on watching her precious Chaos.
Even going down to the mortal realm herself, to keep a closer eye on him. She was there when the sky broke, when Chaos went too far, so she'll be there to assist. To tell her perfect Clay where her stones are, so that he can fix this mess, just as she had years ago.
Five stones.
Four monkies, one half.
—·–-–·—
TL;DR
MK is only one half of a Mystic Monkie (clay, chaos, yin) bc Nüwa's an overly attached idiot and Mac died so this all technically Wukong's fault lmao.
#lego monkie kid#lmk#monkie kid#lmk mk#lmk qi xiaotian#lmk nuwa#nuwa lmk#qi xiaotian#qi xiaotian lmk#mk lmk#mk the monkie kid#ink mk lmk#sun wukong lmk#lmk monkey king#monkey king lmk#lmk Macaque#Macaque lmk#lmk six eared macaque#six eared macaque lmk#sun wukong#six eared macaque#lmk theory#lmk spoilers
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 9
Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?
Previous part
Part 9: dominating discoveries
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alastor's magic was all over me, as was he, the second I stepped foot in the house. He was searching for more injuries and sorting through my mind for anything ill will.
"Stop fussing," I said, attempting to push his chest away. His arm was still firmly wrapped around my back, cane in hand, as his other hand trailed over my head and shoulders for the umpteenth time, light as a feather. "My clothes are in worse condition."
"Angelic weapons are dangerous," he stated, "you may not have healed all the way."
"I'm fine. I'm half Angel, remember? But they do hurt like a bitch."
"Your language has gotten worse, my dear."
"I've heard you curse before. Here or there isn't going to hurt anyone." I scratched the healed spot on my nose. His palm came up to cup my cheek, claws cold to the touch despite the extreme warmth of his hand. His red eyes examined me in a long moment of silence.
"Alastor?" I brought him out of his trance.
"Hm?" he hummed, blinking twice.
"Thank you. For not interfering."
He blinked again. "You asked and I obliged. It would not do to make you loathe me again."
"You drive me nuts sometimes," I interlaced my fingers with his on my cheek, "but I don't think I could loathe you."
His smile was light and genuine. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. The brush of his hair on my cheeks, and the feeling of his lips on my skin, brought back our earlier conversation.
"I do believe—" I placed a kiss on his palm. "—I promised some quality time when I returned." His smile seemed slightly strained from the motion.
"I believe you did."
My heart hammered in my chest as I reached up to pull him down to my eye level by his bow tie. "Our bedroom may be a more...preferable space."
He snapped back up and pulled me close. Shadows warped my field of vision, thinning out to reveal the bright red master bedroom. I peeled away from him and took off my partially stained jacket.
"You did amazing tonight," he said from the place we had manifested in. He still had his cane in hand as he watched me drape the coat over a chair and return to him in the center of the room.
"I've done harder things." I leaned my weight into him and ran my hand over his clothed chest. I heard a sharp intake of static. I leaned my head on the front of his shoulder, letting my hand continue to wander down his arm. "How was the talk with Thatcher?"
I felt something jolt in his mind. "He...was not receptive, nor was Nym. They are both now asleep in their beds."
"So you didn't remedy what I had asked." I stepped away from him, watching him try to hide a wince at the loss of magical and physical contact. "Perhaps then we don't need to spend time together. I do need to clean my coat." I walked back to the chair to grab the material. As I pretended to examine it, he appeared behind me so that my back was against his chest.
"I attempted, as you asked." He was using his sweet, unfiltered voice. He was playing nice. I didn't want to, though. I had envisioned so many things during his absence, all thanks to the various books I had picked up.
"I told you to remedy it, not attempt to." I tilted my head at a funny angle to look up at him. His smile was strained but he was trying to keep his chipper tone.
"You know the children best," he tried. "Thatcher is terrified of the smallest of creatures. It will take some time for him to even look in my direction."
"You're telling me the Radio Demon can't handle children?"
"The Radio Demon does not like children," he returned, "but his soulmate does." He gently poked a claw under my chin. "Perhaps you will indulge me, darling? I did well not to interfere, as you requested."
"That's true." I abandoned the coat in exchange for facing him completely. "I suppose you deserve something for that."
He leaned down to allow the kiss. I put my hand behind his head to press harder into his lips. He hummed a laugh as his arm wrapped naturally around my back like he always did.
My other hand trailed down his arm to where he still held onto his cane. I tapped the cold metal twice and sent him a mental message to rid the thing. It disappeared with black and green electricity. It allowed his now free hand to mirror mine on his head. He leaned further over me, bending me backwards and pulling me into him.
As gently as before, I shifted through his brain. I wanted to satisfy my curiosity from earlier but didn't want to let him know what I was looking for; didn't want to run the risk of being pulled out of his mind. So I carefully ran my tongue on his lips and felt him dull his teeth enough for me to meet his tongue. It was enough of a distraction to let me in, his naturally dominating personality taking over of the physical actions.
I gently went back to the memory of my scolding. He was on his knees with my hand squeezing his ear. I pulled him down a second time and when he looked up; that's when I felt it. I searched in that part of his mind, shifting and moving to sit exactly as he was in that moment.
It took another moment of gentle digging to discover a shocking truth:
He had liked it.
He hadn't refused to use his magic against me because he was afraid of my anger, but because he was enjoying the power and aggression I was exhibiting...on him.
I dared another memory. He watched everything unfold at the factory through my eyes. At certain points that same feeling returned.
He was always in control, always had to be, so was it relieving to give it to someone else he trusted instead? Did he trust me like that?
I slithered out of the memory right as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of us were breathless. His antlers had grown a few inches.
"Are you alr—" he didn't get to finish his sentence as I shoved him backwards. I walked him right into the wall, grabbed his chin, and pulled him back down for another kiss. It took him a moment to register what had happened before he gave into the kiss. That same feeling from his memories was rising again.
One arm trapped my waist to his hips while the other grabbed the back of my head. His long, thick tongue was stronger than mine, pressing harshly around my mouth and daring to go too far back. Mine was close to the same length, tangling with his, and never allowing him to keep me in one place.
My free hand reached up to hook around the hem of his jacket. He flinched but didn't stop his advances in the kiss. So I continued, feeling around for how he got this thing off.
There were two buttons hidden under the fabric that were thankfully easy to undo. I sucked in more air through my nose as I slid both hands under the jacket at his shoulders. He detached his hands from me, never once breaking the wet kiss, and let me push it off his arms.
An unspoken thought passed through us: we were not ready to go all the way yet.
But that didn't mean we couldn't do other things. So, I sent an image to his mind before breaking the kiss. I gathered the ridiculously long jacket in my hands, stole a quick glance at him in his red button up, then turned away to hang the jacket on the chair with mine. As I did, my tail lightly trailed up his arm and flicked his hair. His palm brushed against the end as he moved to sit in the vacant chair.
I watched him pull the bow tie off and set it on the table. He then elegantly sat in the chair, arms on the rests, and tilted his head to the side to watch me. I put my hands behind my back and glided over to him. For once I couldn't read his expression. He was holding his flat-tooth smile, canines still large and on display, but his eyebrows were in a neutral spot.
If it wasn't for our magic, I might've thought he didn't want to continue.
But we did have soulmate magic. So I could feel his magic desperately trying to coax me into coming as close as physically possible. I stepped so our legs were somewhat intertwined and reached out, taking his chin in my palm and rubbing my thumb across his smooth skin. He was shorter by an inch or two in the chair but it still made it so he needed to look up to keep eye contact.
Was I actually holding the Radio Demon's face like this? Was he actually allowing me?
I drew my hand away, catching a small noise like a whimper from him, before slamming them on his arms and using extra magic to hold them in place against the armrest.
Alastor bristled.
His teeth sharpened.
I put my weight on his arms and brought both legs up to fold on either side of him, straddling his hips just as we had done the night before his disappearance. I threaded my hands through his hair on the side and made my way up to the base of his ears. His lips parted on a sigh, aggression disappearing as quickly as it had come on, as I gently ran my hands up and down the sensitive appendages.
With his eyes closed, he wasn't expecting my sudden kiss. This time the noise sounded like a squeak in my mouth. I laughed into the kiss, causing his ears to flatten sideways from embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, dear," I half mused half meant. I lightly ran my claw along one ear until I reached his antlers. I began scratching around them and watched him fall back into his trance.
"Allow me...to...to touch you," he tried. I could feel how much effort it took him to speak those simple words. My other hand reached behind his head and drew a sharp claw down the back of his head, down his neck, until his collar was in the way. He shivered at the sensation and groaned, eyes peeling open to look at me. "Y-you are doing things t-to me darling."
My hand came down from his antlers to press against his cheek. I brought my face closer so our noses touched. "Good."
A weird staticky noise gurgled in the back of his throat. I felt him push against my magic but I clamped down on it with my shield again. His head made a slight jerk to the side and he peered up with a glare.
"What has brought this on, my dear?" He straightened up and shifted his legs. My tail wrapped around both of his ankles, earning another staticky reaction.
"I've waited eight years to be able to kiss you." I kept my face close but never went in for that kiss. I could feel his mind trying to convince me to close the distance.
"You are doing much more than kissing," he pointed out.
I leaned back and placed my hands on his trapped arms. His eyes instantly looked me up and down. I could hear him begging for skin to skin touch. Though he would never admit it aloud. I would need to be sneaky.
"I'm experimenting." My hands glided up his arms until they reached the red collar. His eyes suddenly gripped mine and I found myself unable to look away. It was almost like a dare; a challenge.
My hands felt what they needed as I began unbuttoning his shirt. I had planned to stop but something compelled me to keep going. My hands moved on their own. There was something warm pumping through my veins.
It wasn't until I had neared his belt that I realized he had been coaxing me. His mind was filling my mind and seemed to have one hell of a grip. I couldn't shake him. Even when he dared to move my hands for my sharp claws to hook on his leather belt. A shot of nerves went through my body.
He brought my hands back up after a chuckle and finally made that desired skin to skin contact on his chest.
He let go of my mind then, licking his lips and leaning comfortably into the chair. I was about to make a remark when I realized I was touching fur. My eyes jumped down to his half exposed chest.
The fur was the same color as his skin and very short. It was soft.
I pushed the sides of shirt to the side to see how far his fur extended. It went down the center of his chest and covered about 3/4 to the sides. It turned to skin near his ribs.
"Just full of surprises," my tone went from surprise to mischief halfway through.
"You can't have all the fun, darling." His hands touched my back, earning a violent flinch from the unexpected contact.
"When did you—"
"You have not trumped me yet, love." His now free hands moved to my waist where his thumbs rubbed the bone hidden beneath my pants. "I've allowed you to have your fun. Now it is my turn."
His arms wrapped around and under me as he abruptly stood up. I clung to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him on instinct. I kept my tail out of the way of his boots as he landed my back firmly on the mattress.
Not all the way. We thought in union.
With both agreeing on the same idea, it gave plenty of room to see just how far we could go without going all the way.
I kept my legs around his waist as his he looked down at me. He took up most of my vision with that devilish smile of his. He brought my claw to his face where he placed a gentle kiss on it. Seeing him tower over me like this brought on a funny feeling.
He let go of my hand and moved to my shirt. He asked the question through my mind—waited for an answer—before slipping his palm under the fabric to touch my skin.
It burned.
But in a good way.
I could feel how careful he was being. His palms rang over my stomach without his claws poking me, then hooked gently on the side. I started to laugh and pulled his hands off.
"My my, are you tickilish, my dear?" He pressed against my grip to touch the tip of his claw on my side again. I arched funny and brought my feet up to push him away. "I don't think so." He brushed both feet to the side with one arm and climbed all the way on the bed.
His arm hooked my back to drag me further up towards the pillows. He let me drop and ran his claw along my side again. I stifled a yell, somehow able to remember we had children in the other rooms, and pulled on his antlers to make him stop.
His claws left my skin and grabbed my wrists, yanking them off and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head.
I abruptly went still.
He let go of my wrists and leaned on the mattress instead. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead then leaned back to look in my eyes. He brought the back of his claws against my cheek in his usual way. His smile was small and genuine.
He snapped his fingers to dress both of us in our nightly outfits. I silently slipped under the sheets and waited for him to do the same. As soon as he was laying on his back, I attached myself to his side.
I felt a smooth wave of warmth travel between our minds. He was happy, and a little bit relieved. So I rubbed my face against his shoulder, hooked my one foot on his, wrapped my tail around his ankle, and slipped my hand just barely under his shirt so my palm touched his skin. He was so warm.
I sent him a picture in my mind and let out a sigh of relief when his gentle claw went under my shirt to rest on my back. How cold his claws be cold but his fingers so warm?
He placed another kiss on my forehead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
I can't promise what day I'll upload, but I can promise that y'all will be rewarded for your undying patience. Next part is gonna be juicyyyy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall @martinys-world
#demi demon#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#soulmate au#soulmates#reqs open
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
Upstead Foster Daughter
Did you ever wonder how Upstead would be as foster parents for a teenage girl? Like Hank and Erin, Hailey and Jay welcomed Olivia to their home when she was 16. Olivia holds a lot of grudges and is full of mischief, but she is also incredibly sweet and has a tremendous need to feel like she belongs. To her surprise, Hailey and Jay will give her exactly that. This is a post marriage Upstead where Jay never leaves!
[Chapter I] "If I was dying on my knees you would be the one to rescue me"
Jay is shot and help comes from an unexpected source.
Blood was no stranger to Jay Halstead. Nor is being in the aim of a gun. But actually being shot, bleeding out? This is something you never get used to.
Jay had been lying on the cold concrete floor for about two minutes now, unaware that minutes had passed. Everything happened so fast. The bullet missed his bulletproof vest and hit his side, invading him with pain and knocking him to the ground.
Jay made an effort but failed to reach for his radio that he dropped when he fell. Being alone, bleeding out from a hole in your belly, is enough to send anyone into a panic. But not him, because Jay knew that was not how he would die, chasing a stupid drug dealer who shot him down an alley in the middle of the day. He wasn't even supposed to be there alone in the first place.
His team would find him. Hailey would find him.
Half a minute later, Jay hears footsteps coming from the other side of the alley. His hands loosened the hold on his side where he was stanching the bleeding with a piece of his plaid shirt. They got to him, he could relax now.
The footsteps were soft, they were probably from Hailey or Kim, even Hank coming-
“Jesus Christ! Sir, what happened?” Jay's head moved in the direction of the voice so fast that he felt pain shooting through his entire body.
His vision was getting blurry, be he could make out a teenage girl who could not be older than fifteen. She was staring at him from 10 steps away and the strain his neck was doing to look at her was making him even more uncomfortable. He resumed his previous position with a loud groan, pressing the piece of fabric tighter against his side again.
The action calls the girl's attention to the wound, the amount of blood making her gasp and kneel on the ground beside the man. Although she had never seen a gunshot wound before, she knew it was one. She noticed his vest, his gun, and his radio on the ground. He was a cop and he was bleeding out on the pavement right in front of her. She had to do something.
Her hands flew to the wound, joining his bigger ones in stopping the bleeding. She took out her coat, pressing it to the wound.
“My belt” Jay said, reaching out to it. He had attempted to remove it earlier, but his hands were shaking excessively and he lacked the strength to do so. Just like he couldn't reach for his radio to call for help.
She got the message and took his belt. His badge and gunholder coming off in the process. The girl knew she had to do a tourniquet, so she wrapped the belt around his side, finding some difficulty in doing so, but still managed to succeed. More grunts of pain left Jay as she tightened the belt.
Her hands and clothes were covered in blood, and her face had some splashes from when she tried to get her hair out of the way.
What to do now? She couldn't carry him, she couldn't leave him here alone to die either.
“The radio, take my radio” Jay's voice was weaker now, he was using all his strength to not pass out.
She looked back and stood up to retrieve the radio. She came back and kneeled beside him again, waiting for more instructions. It was crazy how he could still think rationally in these conditions. She felt so powerless because he was the one dying, but he was still managing to tell her what to do. She knew, however, that he was probably trained for moments like this.
“What's your name?” Jay said after a moment trying to catch his breath.
“Olivia” She answered, her voice shaking.
“Yeah, yeah, you-” he coughed. “You pull this switch and press this button” his blood-soaked hand showed her how to do it.
The girl glanced down at the name carved on his vest “Halstead, Intelligence” she read out loud.
He turned his head to the side, feeling the cold on his cheek. His vision went completely black but he could still hear Olivia's voice in the background.
“Call for help, tell them the address” were Jay’s last words before he started to feel his consciousness fading away.
Jay could not make out what she was saying but the last thing he heard before passing out was Hank's voice through the radio “Who the hell are you?!”
You all recognize the lyrics from the title, right? Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! It's my first time attempting to write a story with multiple chapters so any form of encouragement is much appreciated ♡
#chicago pd#chicago pd fanfic#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader#chicago pd x oc#jay halstead#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead platonic#jay halstead adoptive daughter#jay halstead foster daughter#whump jay halstead#upstead#upstead fanfic#upstead fanfiction#upstead adoptive daughter#upstead foster daughter#hailey upton#hailey upton x reader#hailey upton platonic#hailey upton adoptive daughter#hailey upton foster daughter
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve been thinking about yknow that type of person that is totally a diva, confident and WILL stand up for you and fight whoever they need to right? Well what if that type of person with Isaac? Total power couple energy also Lay Banks and Flo Milli vibes I’m talking about 🫣🫣🫣
YESSS this is so me i was constantly suspended in high school bc i don’t deal w no bullshit LOL
isaacwhy x confident? aggressive? idk! reader blurb
warnings: drinking, fight
it was rare you, your boyfriend and friend group go to a party. mostly because isaac never wants to leave the house. but, with the help of nick, you managed to convince him to go to a party in the house of a mutual friend.
you’re standing in the kitchen, hand in the cooler as you shuffle through ice to find another mike’s hard lemonade.
choosing to ignore the shots of vodka already in your system. you’re not drunk. it was maybe 2 shots. you’re just—looser. “y/n, another shot?” tanner offers up. you hold up your bottle, “nah! i’m good, t.”
he nods, taking his shot. you look around. you barely know anyone. just the group and your mutual friend. none of these faces belong to people you’ve shared a conversation with. glancing around, your eyes land on a man across the room, bothering a girl on the couch. your eyes narrow in, sipping on your drink.
as if feeling your hot headed-ness from somewhere in the house, isaac appears next to you. “yeah, i’ve been keeping an eye on them too,” isaac says, a muscular arm wrapping around your shoulders. “she’s clearly telling him to fuck off. look she’s not interested,” you point out. he can feel your muscles tense. you both want to do the same thing. both want to stop this guy from being a weirdo.
one of you just has more balls than the other all the sudden.
you unravel yourself from isaac and walk through the crowd to get to the man and the poor girl. “excuse me. thanks. excuse me,” you mutter, gaze hardening the closer you get to them. isaac is right behind you, trying to grab your hand but you’re on a mission.
“dude, i already told you i’m not interested,” the girl shoves the creep’s hand off her shoulder. he’s clearly drunk. too drunk. he snaps his head back, “what’s with women these days—“
“hey, you okay?” you gesture to the girl, ignoring the man, arms crossed. isaac stands right behind you, watching the drunk man turn his attention to you now. the girl chuckles up at you, “i’m trying to get away from this guy honestly.”
the drunk man scoffs, “i’m trying to be polite—“
“no one asked. just leave her alone. you’re drunk. too drunk,” you bluntly tell the man before turning to smile at the girl, “come on—we can get some drinks and get away from this guy.” the girl happily stands up, eyeing both you and isaac. the drunk man lunges at the girl in an attempt to grab her arm but you stop it right before it can touch her.
“dude, don’t you know when to quit?” you laugh, moving the girl closer to you. the drunk man stumbles into your personal space but you don’t flinch. you just stare right back at him. isaac is now right next to you, towering over the man. “i wanted a conversation with her. that’s all,” he waves his wobbly hand close to your face, “there’s no reason to get in the middle,” he steps closer to get to the girl.
at this point, you’re fuming. isaac’s hand touches your shoulder, “just walk away, man.” but the man glares up at isaac now, then back at you, then at isaac.
“ah, i see. this is your bitch—“
“back the fuck up,” you shove a finger into the man’s chest. the stench of alcohol coming off of him is strong. the man is in disbelief, “don’t fuckin’ touch me—“
“then fuck off,” you cut him off quickly. he steps a stumbling step back and you can see the click in his head and before you know it, you’re getting shoved back by the drunk man.
“the fuck is your problem?” you shove him ten times harder before isaac can do something to him or even pull you away. he shoves back, nearly knocking you on your ass. “don’t fucking put your hands on her,” isaac pushes him back so that the back of his calves touch the couch.
“then keep your bitch in check!”
“i don’t have to do shit!”
you clench your fists, taking a deep breath. you step between isaac and the man, grabbing the drunk by the collar of his flimsy shirt. “you need to cut the shit,” you hiss. all eyes are on you now. “y/n, let’s just go,” isaac touches your shoulders again, trying to diffuse YOU because he knows how you are.
your grip on the man’s collar tightens, “don’t fucking touch me again. don’t touch this girl again and do NOT get in my boyfriend’s face again,” you hiss again before roughly letting him go. isaac pulls you back behind him and pulls you out of the area, looking back at the man and ignoring the eyes on you two.
isaac pulls you out of the house. not roughly. not even pissed.
once the cold air it’s you, you take a shaky breath. “you okay?” isaac gently asks. “that guy is a fucking dick. can you believe that shit? he had the fucking nerve to touch me?” you pace the sidewalk. isaac just watches you in borderline amusement. guiltily, he likes seeing you fired up.
“that was hot,” isaac speaks and you stop pacing. a stupid smirk comes over your face as you stay still. you shrug with a smug look, “yeah, i know,” you laugh as you flip your head back. isaac walks over to you, hands finding your waist, “i should get the guys, huh?”
“yeah, yeah. maybe,” you laugh, leaning in to kiss isaac.
#tgc x reader#the group chat podcast x reader#the group x reader#the group chat podcast#isaacwhy#isaacwhy x reader#the group chat
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
baddie
this is (my attempt to write lol) a fic for my fellow boss lady kpop stans <3 go get it girl!
san x fem!reader
didn't specify that san is an idol bc it's not referred to in the story word count: 684 warning(s): one curse word, not proofread, idk if there's anything else really??
when you first stopped at the new wine bar your friends had been hyping up for the past couple of weeks as the perfect place for date, in anticipation of your boyfriend joining you later on, you didn't suspect anything off about the place.
you still didn't care much when, after san had come to join you, you were on the receiving end of several eye rolls and stares. and of course you knew why. this wouldn't be the first time other girls would wish san wasn't taken.
'jealous much, bitches?' you laughed to yourself. 'someone tell them that envy doesn't solve their loneliness issues.'
however, the waitress who came to serve you and san's drinks served more than wine. she wore a very much flirtatious smirk as she served san's wine, in sharp contrast to the disgusted look she threw your way. to top all of that, she even 'accidentally' brushed by san's shoulder while leaving your table.
by this point, your blood was already boiling and you felt like throwing your heel at her, but san's hand reaching across the table touching yours was able to calm you down just in time.
"there's no point," he said gently. "you shouldn't let her spoil your mood. if you want to leave, then let's go somewhere else."
your angry breaths gradually slowed to a halt. "alright, i'd like to go. but let me use the bathroom first."
after washing your hands, you were convinced that all traces of your initial spite was gone, and you weren't going to let anyone stop you from enjoying your day with san.
"wonders shall never end. how do polar opposites like that end up together?"
you recognised that as the voice of the waitress who'd served you. instead of coming out of the bathroom, you stayed by the door to listen.
"you're asking me? maybe she has connections, money, something he wants. because he certainly can't be in love with someone who looks like that."
"i saw the girl going to the bathroom. i think i'd like to meet the guy and let him know that he deserves better."
so much for miss nice girl.
"excuse me, would you mind repeating what you said to my face?"
by now you had come out of the bathroom and was looking at the waitress and her gossip partner.
"how dare you eavesdropp on my conversation?" she asked.
"how dare you talk about me like that? you hardly even know me!" you spat back.
"and you were even going to approach him knowing full well that he is taken. who does that?!"
"whatever." she huffed. "it's not like i lied about anything. do you really think he's going to stay with you? i bet he's looking forward to the day he will dump you."
when you heard that, something new snapped inside you. you had no idea what it was, but you were definetely going to use it to teach this girl a lesson.
"people like you get som sick pleasure from putting others down. how could you just take one look at me, literally not knowing me from anywhere, and decide i was not good enough for my boyfriend?" you used your eyes so shoot daggers at both women.
"and you," you continued. "you want to try to 'talk' to my boyfriend? why don't we just meet him together, huh?"
you didn't bother to waste any more time on those two women who clearly couldn't see your worth. so with that, you turned your back on them and began to walk away.
only, as you turned the corner leading you to the main area of the restaurant, you saw someone waiting for you, wearing the proudest grin on his face.
"sannie! how long have you been standing there? sorry for keep you waiting so long," you apologised.
he didn't reply, immediately, instead choosing to rest his hand on your back as you both walked out of the restaurant. and as you both finally made it out of there, you could faintly hear a whisper in your ear.
"that's my girl."
#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez fic#ateez imagines#choi san#san#ateez x you#atz#atiny#yeosang#jongho#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#mingi#wooyoung#atinyateez#atinyblr#ateez fluff
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
i keep having dreams where i attempt suicide but nobody cares to try to stop me or anything. i am alone every single time
#bunny talks#my psych told me ‘there’s a very real chance you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t call for help’#and like. Yeah that was the point lol i didn’t even want to go to the hospital i just wanted to talk about my problems and then die#that’s all i wanted and i couldn’t even have that#whatever#if i was dead it would’ve saved everyone from knowing me#i still live and i have no idea why anymore#not that anyone has to try to stop me from attempting#just that it would be nice to feel cared about#i want to matter to people
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh
#god i am trying so hard to just have fun and be myself#but when i do that i'm immediately a strange outsider creep#and since i can't really mask my version of masking is just not talking and then obviously you don’t find any joy in fandom spaces either#i will always be a shitty unlikable freak no matter how much i pretend otherwise. it was obvious from the start that getting involved in#fandom spaces was a fucking mistake. it's always a mistake because you're some laughing stock at best and a horrifying freak at worst#i don't blame people for not liking me i've realised what an awful person i am long ago#but it's always so hard witnessing something like fun social groups from the sidelines knowing you'll never be a part of it#this is why my mental state has been deteriorating so severely in the last few months. that Realisation once again nothing fucking changed#i know it's stupid to get so upset over fandom but it's only a pattern for me#i stopped trying to be friends with people when i was a teenager because it hasn't worked a single time#this attempt at integrating myself into the wotr and bg3 fandom by sharing my shit was just one mistake#gortash/zeke is so different from anybody else’s work and i wish i could find joy in something that it isn’t fucking deranged but i can’t#like yes it’s just fandom bullshit! gortash/zeke is a fucking oc x canon ship! why am i getting so upset over it!#i love writing them. i’ve never been this happy writing anything. and it’s entirely indicative of a common pattern in my life#when i earnestly share parts of myself/things i’m passionate about people get creeped out. and honestly? rightfully so#i would leave the discord servers i’m in because it’s fucking crushing me dude. this is so petty but i’m so jealous of what you people have#but in one i am server owner and i don’t want to just dump that responsibility onto someone else and then dip#and in the other two i’m not sure anyone would even notice that i’m gone but i still worry about being rude#though i’m not entirely sure i didn’t get invited to one of those just so people could laugh at me. idk probably just being paranoid but i#it’s been gnawing at me#ok no if i’m being this vulnerable on tunglr.com i can also say that part of me staying is also still having the hope that i could fit in#one day. logically i know it won’t happen but it’s nice to have hope sometimes#watching you all from through the window having fun like a creep#so yeah. i’ve always felt like this but it’s been rapidly getting worse with my failed attempt at the bg3 fandom#idk just been crying non-stop for the last few hours. went through an entire pack of tissues in an hour it’s very disgusting#they’re all lying around me as i’m typing this like a pillowfort of snot lmao#so yeah. idk. if someone could come over and lobotomise me that’d be nice. orin where are you when we need you most#i never had any friends irl so i foolishly gave this a shot. i’m sorry#also doesn’t help that i can see someone dropping me for people that are easier to be around in irl rn#it just hurts because it’s always like that. someone you are around when you have no other option at best. not even that sometimes
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sebastian Vael is such a profoundly lonely character
#like some of this is just the limitations of the DLC and I do get that but like#accepting the material as presented (tho acknowledging it's told through Varric's very biased POV)#Seb tries SO HARD to connect with the Kirkwall Crew#(with the exception of Anders who he's still shockingly polite to all things considered)#yet his attempts at reaching out for friendship are either outright rejected (Aveline...VARRIC especially)#or at best politely accepted without much depth in return...Like he can be a friendly acquaintance to them but not a truly close friend#(his relationships with Merrill and Fenris for example)#and again it is not for lack of trying on his part! man is using all of the tools he has to connect with these ppl!#and he himself clearly cares about them!!#just something about this guy who was outright rejected by his family for being too much#too hedonistic too emotional too impulsive#and sent away from the only home he's ever known to a city where he knows truly no one#and has to cut off as much of his former personality/behavior as possible to try#and earn redemption/righteousness be what his family wants#the way he has to constantly earn Elthina's approval but it never stays nothing he does is ever truly good enough#and how other than her and Hawke (presuming they actually take the time to get to know him which like..a lot of players don't)#he never truly knows anyone in Kirkwallhe's always a stranger in that city#i forget what my point was but I love Sebastian he makes me so fucking sad#yes I'm playing DA2 again it's fine i don't have a problem i can stop whenever i want mind your business lol#dragon age#sebastian vael#dragon age 2
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
upset about the fact that people think it's cute and trendy to talk about ppl with EDs as if they're just like "haha im ugly lol i'm shallow and vain and fatphobic <3"
like please do 2 seconds of research on EDs and stop spitting vitriol at ppl with a life-threatening illness who hate themselves deeply and have a 10% death rate thanks
#ed discussion /#like yeah there are people who act cruelly to others and take their own stuff out on other people. it's like that with every mental illness#there's a whole range of experiences with eds that i just can not cover in the tags of a post#and one of my loved ones has an ed and internalized fatphobia from many years of deep trauma. and they DO struggle w/seeing other people#in certain ways & will occasionally make a judgmental comment#but it's something they're holding themself accountable for and feel guilty about and actively working on and addressing and challenging.#and they're really supportive of body positivity and are trying to get better. but when you grow up like that it doesn't happen overnight#and as for me i've never seen other people like that. it's not like that for me. i think fatphobia is stupid as fuck and know all the#reasons why it is. i think society and beauty standards are complete BS. at its core it isn't about the food or weight#it's about trying to avoid mistreatment & false associations with oppressive/capitalist beauty standards=love &#coping mechanisms & addiction & isolation & attempting to exert control over traumatic situations through self-destruction#it's not ''lol im stupid and shallow and vain'' for anyone and i wish people would stop talking about it like it is.#had someone talk about how their friend's mom LITERALLY starved her and now she makes self-deprecating comments about her own#body (but says nice things about other people). then they IMMEDIATELY went on to talk very angrily about that friend for doing that.#and i was like?????? oh my GOD???#like if it's triggering to hear those comments that's totally understandable and please let her know. those comments can be triggering for#me too. but why do people treat people with EDs so horribly#it's terrible
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
:[
#ELIZA STOP LYING TO AND MANIPULATING PEOPLE PLZZZZZZ#EVEN WHEN THEY'RE BAD PEOPLE#EVEN WHEN YOU REALLY REALLY NEED TO FIND OUT IMPORTANT INFO TO STOP BAD THINGS TM FROM HAPPENING#JUST. FIND BETTER WAYS TO DO YOUR DETECTIVE-ING.#listen I //understand// why she does it#and I know it's supposed to make her a ~sharp and sly investigator~#but it *bothers* me how much she uses people and their ambitions against them with apparently no remorse#if she has judged you a Bad Person than she has absolutely no qualms with lying to manipulating and possibly doing very real damage to#your social standing and reputation#and I UNDERSTAND that She doesn't think reputation and social standing mean much. and she doesn't care two figs about anyone's#attempts to get in good with those of higher social rank.#and yet....... she is constantly trying to improve the reputation of her detective agency and achieve more equal social standing with#male detectives#so WHY is THAT different??? and why doesn't the story ever really allow her to suffer the consequences of using people like this???#ramblings#not putting this one in the tag bc I don't wanna attract people coming to argue with me lol#and I'm not trying to be a hater :')#I just wish this show had better writing. bc it could be so much more interesting and compelling if it did.#tag ramble
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
mean!König x nerd!reader that has a soft spot for her:( making love to her. she’s so fragile and tiny and innocent he doesnt wanna hurt her! coddles her during sex, putting her in a mating press and kissing her tears away since she gets so overwhelmed from his big cock!!
he’s mildly annoyed by your sobbing, fat globs of tears running down your pretty cheeks as he tries to ease his thick cock into your tight hole, pushing past the resistance he’s met with. the pained vulnerability on your face when you look up at him is quickly dispelling his urge to ruin you, making him feel guilty for how impatient he is, and he can’t help cradling your head as he tries to calm you down so he can finally fucking fit.
“it’s okay, kind. don’t cry, ja? only making it harder for yourself.” he grunts out frustratedly, going against his very nature to try to comfort you. his voice is gravely and low, like it pains him to talk to you with respect. “just relax and let me in.”
every time he envisioned the day he finally fucked you, he always pictured it being rough and fast; making you scream and squirm on his dick as he ruined your innocence and turned you into a wanton slut for him — but now all he could do was hold you close and attempt to make it good for you. he imagined pounding into you roughly, fucking that big brain of yours empty, but as it is, your shaking legs are draped over his broad shoulders as his warm, burly body presses snugly against yours, rutting deep and slow inside your gummy walls like your fragile body will shatter if he makes any sudden moves. he presses kisses all over your tear-stained face, fixing your crooked glasses as his hips cant into you, mushroom tip leaking precum at how nicely you’re starting to open up for him, and he tells you as such, whispering sweet words into your ear and feeling you cling to him in response.
he hates how overcome with endearment he is by you, watching you sniffle and mewl cutely while he rubs at your puffy, sensitive clit, losing yourself in the pleasure. if it was anyone else’s cunt that took him this well, clenched him so tightly, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from blindly chasing his own release, but all your pretty noises and expressions make him want to take his time and savor you, anything to keep you feeling good.
#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig x reader#könig cod#konig mw2#könig smut#könig call of duty#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
5K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mysticscorpio82
ஜMystic Scorpioஜ
beachpixls
beachpixls
sports-n-glitter-blog
Sports&Glitter
nelcassetto
Il mio mondo nel cassetto
nordeva
Nordeva