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#would like to say as of me scheduling this.... star just came out a few days ago...but by the time this post drops
shehungthemoon · 2 days
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Bucktommy Fic prompts: first vacation or snowy cabin vibes
first 118 bbq
Buck rescues a kitten from a tree and keeps it #catdads
Buck telling Tommy he was a sperm donor with zero context like ‘oh yeah biologically I have a kid’ and walking off leaving Tommy like ???
First Christmas together
Idk if it’s your vibe but something relating to the ring cutter?
Babysitting jee
Tommy realising ‘random facts with Buck’ is a thing
Flying lessons
Sorry I have a lot of thoughts and zero ability to write lollll
Oh, anon. I saw "babysitting jee" and could not get the image of Tommy looking at dollar store kids coloring books out of my head. And here we are 🖤
"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Buck asked into his phone, balancing it in between his shoulder and ear as he unpacked his locker for the night. "It's just that Tommy and I don't really get a lot of time to see each other with our schedules and everything, and—"
"Buck," Chim interrupted, "Yes I'm sure. I've known Tommy longer than you have, unless you've somehow forgot that since the last time you begged me for old, embarrassing photos of the man."
"Yeah yeah," Buck mumbled, "I know I know, sorry." Chim made a satisfied hum. Buck finished zipping up his bag. "Bet I know him better though."
Chimney started squawking indignantly over the phone. Buck grinned into his chest.
So, Buck invited Tommy to come babysit Jee with him that night, nervous the whole time he typed the text.
-i know it's not really a great date setting
He typed after he sent the initial message.
-totally ok to say no
He was stupid to be nervous. The reply came almost immediately.
-Are you kidding? I've been waiting to meet that girl ever since Chimney sent me those first pictures.
-Of course I'll be there
---
Tommy met him at Buck's door with a sweet grin and a bunch of coloring books in his hand. Buck couldn't do anything but stare at him for a moment and smile back.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Buck wondered if those butterflies in his stomach would ever go away. When Tommy leaned forward and pressed a gentle, quick kiss onto his lips, Buck came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they ever would.
"I brought these," Tommy said as he walked into the apartment, shaking the coloring books in the air and looking just a little bashful about it. "Didn't want to show up empty handed but I figured wine wasn't the right call for the venue."
Buck chuckled and shut the door behind him. "You definitely figured right." He pointed over toward the media area. "Wanna meet the star of the show?"
Tommy grinned. "More excited to see her than you, really."
Buck scoffed with feigned-offense and pinched Tommy's arm before moving his hand to the small of Tommy's back, pressing him gently toward where Jee was set up in front of his couch.
Jee looked up from her toys with wide eyes when they came into view. "Hey hey, princess, I got someone for you to meet!" Buck held his free hand out to point at his boyfriend. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Jee-Yun." She kept still in contemplation and made a humming noise up at them.
Tommy crouched down and gave her a little wave, and Buck would have laughed at the sight of such a big man making himself so small if it weren't the most endearing thing he'd seen in ages.
"Hi Jee-Yun. It's really nice to meet you," Tommy said with a quiet voice Buck'd never heard before. Jee just kept staring over at him with blinking, assessing eyes. "I really like your sparkly dress," he continued, and that seemed to do it. Jee broke out into a wide, squinty-eyed smile and let out one of those little kid laughs that melted hearts.
"Sequins," Jee said brightly; or at least tried to say, there was definitely an 's' sound in there somewhere.
The floor became their home for the next few hours, Jee happily adjusting to her new friend and toddling between the two of them, carting markers and dolls and pieces of Goldfish back and forth across the carpet. The two of them got easily talked into playing Barbies for one memorable twenty minute stretch, in which Buck learned quite a few things about Tommy's sense of fashion.
"You can't put those rain boots on Tiffany when she's wearing that dress, they don't go at all," Buck said contemptuously.
Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why not? There's yellow in the belt." He squinted and held Tiffany up a little closer to his face. "Sort of."
Buck groaned painfully. "They're way to clunky for that outfit! And it's not even raining, Tommy! Why would she be wearing rain boots?"
Tommy blinked at him for a second before slowly tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Of his very-much-indoors living room. Buck groaned louder.
Jee solved the problem easily by shoving the rain boots onto Tiffany's arms and yelling out Gloves! Buck was a little miffed he didn't think of that first.
Dolls, juice-box breaks, Buck chasing Jee around the first floor making firetruck sounds and sending Tommy into stitches from where he was still sprawled in front of the TV—the evening passed all too quickly and with more laughing than either of them had done in weeks. Which of course meant that by the time that Maddie and Chimney texted that they were going to be heading back soon, both grown men were beyond pooped and covered in more sticky substances than was probably recommended by most health codes. Jee had not decided to take it easy on the new guy, that's for sure.
Buck had handed a squirming Jee over to Tommy a bit ago while he got his niece's stuff all organized back together in her bag. By the time he'd gotten the rest of her leftover snacks out of the fridge and made a passable effort at tidying up the counters, the excitable sounds of Tommy and Jee's earlier conversations had died down and Buck decided it was about time he headed over to check up on them.
He was greeted with the sight of the two of them tucked into the couch, Jee set up on Tommy's lap with one of her new coloring books in her hand and an assortment of markers wedged into the crook of Tommy's bent knee in easy reach beside her. She was quietly and happily plugging away at one of the drawings—a startlingly pink giraffe, Buck thought he could make out—scribbling nonsensically across the page with an intently closed fist. Tommy had an arm resting along one of her sides to keep her from falling off, but the man himself was very much not paying too much attention anymore. His head was lolled back against the cushion, eyelids fluttering as he caught a few needed minutes of rest. Buck wasn't worried; he knew by the way Tommy's finger was still drawing lazy shapes along the frills of Jee's sparkly dress that Tommy'd be awake and aware in an instant if she needed him.
Buck stole a moment to just stand there and watch without either of them noticing. He took it in.
Tommy. His boyfriend. With a baby tucked happy against his chest.
Unbelievably small compared to him yet being held with all the gentleness in the world. His boyfriend and his niece. Both safe and content, on his couch.
Something tugged warm and tight behind Buck's ribs. The feeling almost toppled him over, dragged the breath from his lungs, love, pride, want.
He could have been sick with it.
He quietly padded over and lowered himself onto the cushion next to them before he could get too overwhelmed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against where he knew Tommy's dimple was, and soon enough felt Tommy's smile underneath his lips.
"You having a good time there, Jee?" Buck asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see her. She twisted around to nod empathetically up at him.
"Uncle Tommy got me a jungle," she said, holding her booklet up with a grin, and Buck let out a surprised noise.
"Uncle Tommy, huh?" He teased, poking Tommy in the ribs and looking at him fondly. Tommy swatted his hand away and then grabbed his fingers before he could retreat too far, and Buck let him tug him in close and rest their now tangled hands against his side. Buck settled in sideways against the back of the couch and tried to push down the fondness bubbling up inside him before it burst.
"She said it earlier," Tommy said, brow furrowed just a bit. Buck wanted to press it out with his thumb. "It felt mean to correct her." Buck just hummed and squeezed his hand until he'd relaxed back into the couch again.
Tommy let him rest his forehead against his shoulder, and the three of them whiled away the next quarter hour laughing at Jee's animal noises and picking crazy colors for tigers and monkeys and toucans.
Maddie and Chimney showed up before for too long, greeting Tommy with just as much warmth as they did Buck, especially after they saw just how adamant Jee was about hanging off of Tommy's calf and not letting him go even in the face of Goldfish bribes.
Maddie and Chimney finally got her detached with the promise of an extra bedtime story, and in a flurry of side-hugs and handshakes and little versions of such for Jee, they said their goodbyes. Tommy waved them out the door with an arm around Buck's shoulders.
They stumbled up to bed that night too tired for much else other than sleep, Buck's heart skipping a beat in his chest every time he caught Tommy's eye or felt him brush against him as they moved around the loft. Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted off. Buck pressed himself hard back into Tommy's chest and fell asleep to the feeling of feather-light kisses pressed against the back of his neck and a heart beating alongside his own.
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heynhay · 7 months
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I'll keep a leftover light burning so you can keep lookin' up I am yours, no matter
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kingdomoftyto · 3 months
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"Carlos, if you could just pause your experiment for a second--if you could only hear me out, hear my hypothesis! I think once you understand the science of the situation, you--" Carlos opened the door. He was crying. She had never seen him cry. He was overwhelmed and unsure of how to express his emotions, since he usually only did so in carefully worded sentences, not with water from his body. "The science of the situation?" he snarled. "That Otherworld. I was trapped there, Nilanjana. I couldn't see Cecil for ten lonely years. I was kept away from the people I love, in that desolate place where you never get hungry and you never have to drink water and so you never live. It is a place that devours. It is a place that is empty. That is the science of the situation, and I study it so I can fix it. Only I can do that. Only these experiments can do that. I'm sorry, Nilanjana; I'm not going to stop so you can tell me what science is."
🫠
#Tyto listens to WtNV#spoiler warning I guess for a book that came out a few years ago now#anyway yeah hi I finished the book#the resolutions to the plot and to Nils' character arc were pretty good. nothing to write home about but fun and serviceable#I personally get annoyed whenever a story pulls a ''you thought this romance would end with these two TOGETHER? lol NOPE''#like we get it it's more realistic for whirlwind romances to end in a breakup and sometimes it's better for people to just stay friends#but firstly this isn't real life; it's fiction. with narrative devices and such.#and secondly WtNV of all media does NOT get to preach about realistic relationship trajectories when its lead fell in love at first sight#lmao I'm just saying. I'm not MAD about it or anything it just made me roll my eyes.#ANYWAY. that aside: it was good. and I do genuinely like the friendship Nilanjana builds up with Darrell at the end#but obviously the real star of the show was Carlos and the completely unprecedented character depth that they smothered him in.#not ONLY recontextualizing over a year's worth of the podcast but ALSO saddling him with LAYERS of guilt over the events in this book#he *KILLED* the *GODDAMN* *CENTIPEDE*#after his beautiful little speech about not killing things just because we don't understand them!#he was just SO traumatized by his time in the Otherworld and SO afraid for his family after Janice nearly got Got that he KILLED IT!!!#and THEN!!!! not only do they find out that the centipede wasn't responsible for the destruction!!#but it turns out it was HIS OWN MACHINE THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#his attempts to keep everyone safe were what actually caused the danger!!!! AUGH HE WAS ONLY TRYING TO HELP#HE'S JUST SCARED AND HE WANTS EVERYONE TO BE SAFE AND NOT EXPERIENCE THE SAME HORRORS HE DID AUGHDUSHGHDH#...anyway yeah back to my regularly scheduled episode listening tomorrow
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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months
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i miss you, i’m sorry - matthew tkachuk
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matthew tkachuk x fem!reader
summary: you go with your bf to a hockey game; he is unaware of your history with one of the players (please read warnings!)
warnings: abusive bf, violence, strong and derogatory language, angst, a few uses of y/n
word count: 3k
you felt like you hadn’t been able to breathe properly in hours, sitting rigid like a stone next to mike, who’s mood has only deteriorated as the night went on. mike was a diehard coyotes fan, and had brought you to the game with him last minute when his friend had cancelled last minute.
“are you sure none of your other friends would want to go? they would probably have more fun than i would,” you had offered, desperately trying to get out of going.
“they’re all busy,” he replied. “i know you hate hockey, but can you try to have a good time, for me?” he asked sweetly, pulling you into his arms. you weren’t fooled by his tone; you would go and you would enjoy it, you didn’t have a choice.
“okay,” you smiled, and he kissed you softly before going to your shared room to get ready. you sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to make it through this game. you didn’t hate hockey - you used to love it actually, but when you started dating mike you chose to keep that part of your life a secret. it seemed silly at face value, but there was a bigger secret you were hiding from him, and you asked the universe why it had to be the panthers that arizona was playing tonight.
a little less than two years ago, you had dated their star player, matthew tkachuk for almost a year, before the travel and hectic schedule got to be too much for you, and you decided to leave; the hardest thing you had ever done. the relationship had been kept pretty quiet thankfully, no traces of it online except for one or two group photos from when you were together still floating around instagram; though you had done all you could to erase any evidence.
if mike found out, you honestly weren’t sure how he would react; but you knew it wouldn’t be good. you had met mike a few months after you and matthew broke up, and he was nice enough, until he wasn’t. he kept up the good guy just long enough for you to move in and become dependant on him, and suddenly you found yourself trapped. things were okay most of the time, but if he got angry, sometimes you got caught in the crossfire. he had only actually hit you once, but he yelled, and would sometimes grab you too hard, leaving you with bruises to cover before he could see them; he had the audacity to say that they made him upset.
he had been in a good mood when you got to the arena, and you were thankful that your seats weren’t too close to the ice, though you shuddered at the possibility of matthew seeing you in the crowd, despite how slim the chance was. you hadn’t seen him since they day you broke up, and as the familiar head of curly hair came out from the tunnel, skating on to the ice as part of the starting line up, your heart felt like it was being twisted in a vice.
you missed him. you missed your friends on the team, having grown pretty close to some of the guys, as well as their girlfriends. you hadn’t heard from any of them since leaving; it was too hard at first, and then it became a safety concern. any connection to your former life meant more risk of mike finding out about matthew, and that couldn’t happen.
“can you at least look like you want to be here?” mike whispered in your ear, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. you put on a smile, and thankfully it was good enough, as he turned his attention back to the players on the ice.
the game started off a bit slow, however the panthers had a 1-0 lead at the end of the first, and through the second as well. the coyotes were playing pretty rough, getting quite a few penalties for some dirty hits, all while mike cheered them on, booing the refs anytime they called a penalty on arizona. you watched as one of floridas players, nick cousins, ran into one of the coyotes while he was low on the boards, the hit landing on his shoulders or maybe his head, you couldn’t really tell. another coyote skated up and checked nick face first into the boards; hard. he hadn’t been looking that way and had no warning to protect himself, and you watched in distress as he crumbled to the ice, and you were worried he was unconscious.
nick had been one of your closest friends while you were dating matt, and your heart pounded as you watched him struggle to his feet.
“that pussy folded like a piece of paper!” mike laughed, enjoying every second of him getting hit. floridas players jumped on the guy who had laid the hit on nick, defending their fallen teammate as a fight broke out, sending players from each team into the penalty box. mikes mood dropped with each second of the refs deliberating passed, the officials eventually awarding nearly 20 penalty minutes to forsling for florida, as well as enough penalty minutes to arizona to give the panthers a man advantage.
“that’s fucking bullshit!” he screamed, the crowd of arizona fans not happy about the decision either. you said nothing as mike spilled some of his fourth beer on your lap, just thankful it hadn’t got on his spare coyotes jersey that he had insisted you wear. as the players got ready to continue the game, you looked across the ice, locking eyes with the one person you hoped you could avoid more than anything. something flashed in his eyes as he saw you, but his attention was quickly back to the game as the whistle blew, and soon the second period was over and he was gone down the tunnel for intermission.
the coyotes scored in the third to tie the game, but the panthers got the lead back, scoring twice in close succession. matthew looked to you after putting the puck in the net, and it took everything in you to ignore him. mike was livid at this point, the alcohol not helping in the slightest, and you cringed internally as he grabbed your hand, holding it way too tight.
forsling finally came out of the penalty box after serving 17 minutes, and immediately scored an empty netter, solidifying a 4-1 victory for florida. with 2 minutes left in the game, mike dragged you out to the concession area. matthews eyes noticed your empty seats, and his heart dropped, wondering if he had imagined you even being there in the first place.
downstairs, mike pushed you against the brick wall next to the restroom.
“wait here. i gotta piss before we leave,” looking at the long lineup already formed outside the men’s room. the arena was small, and there were limited washrooms, so you had a feeling this was gonna take a while, but you dared not move from your spot against the wall.
you could hear the final buzzer go, and the florida players began walking out from ice level, and you realized that they had to walk through the main area to get to the visitors locker room, and your blood ran cold. most of the panthers paid no mind to you, but you held your breath as you saw matthew approaching, praying that he ignored you like the others had.
he thankfully didn’t say anything, but your eyes locked for the second time that night as he passed by, disappearing down the hall and into the locker room. your foot tapped anxiously on the floor, grinding a small piece of gravel under your shoe as you willed mike to hurry the fuck up.
10 minutes went by, and you exhaled in relief as he finally appeared, not even caring about the death grip he took on your wrist as he literally dragged you behind him towards the exit.
“y/n?” a familiar voice called, and you hoped with all you had that mike would ignore it and keep walking. “wait- y/n.” mike stopped, causing you to bump into his back with how fast you were following behind him. he turned around, and you were sure he was quite confused as to why matthew tkachuk was calling after you.
“what the hell do you want?” mike asked, looking matt up and down before turning to you, still holding you tight. “do you know this asshole?”
“no, let’s go home,” you pleaded, but he wasn’t budging.
“you got the wrong girl.” mike shrugged. “shouldn’t you be circle jerking with the other guys in the locker room right now?” he spat, still bitter about his team losing the game.
“i told them to start without me,” matthew joked dryly, and you could feel his eyes on you, however yours were glued to the floor.
“funny,” mike replied. “let’s go,” he pushed you in front of him to leave.
“wait, y/n - please.”
“i’m sorry, you have the wrong person.”
“yeah, chucky,” mike laughed. “you must be thinking of some other whore. i’m sure there’s a lot of desperate chicks around here that would suck your cock though, so stop talking to mine.”
“you really shouldn’t talk about women like that,” matthew threatened, and while his tone sounded calm, you knew he was furious.
“or what? what, you want to fight or something?” mike asked. you noticed a few people gathering to watch, either out of concern or just to see matthew, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“baby, can we please just-“
“shut up!” he shoved you and you fell to the floor, landing hard on your ass, before punching matthew in the face. matthew swung a fist at mikes face, hitting him square in the jaw. your eyes widened in horror as mike swung more drunken punches back at matt, and people backed away from the fight. you looked down the hall to see a familiar face, and you called out to your former friend.
“carter!” his eyes snapped up from his phone and he took out an airpod before he noticed the fight, and he quickly pulled matthew off of mike with the help of security guards that had come to help break up the situation. you stared at the ground in front of you again, feeling like the room was spinning and wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you. security handcuffed mike and escorted him out of the building, while carter and another security officer took matthew back down the hall towards the locker room.
an officer asked you to come with him, and he took you to an empty office room to take a statement about what happened. you just hoped matthew wouldn’t get in too much trouble.
when you left the office, there were thankfully little to no fans left in the arena, the hallways eerily empty as you walked towards the door. before you could reach it though, something - or someone - made you pause. you looked back down the hall to the locker room, and with a sigh walked towards it. you knocked on the door, your heart hammering against your ribcage as it opened, one of the team staff looking at you.
“i’m sorry, you can’t be back here-“
“it’s fine. she’s a friend,” carter interrupted her, opening the door to let you in. the room was empty, the team having already left, and you forced yourself to look at carter.
“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded.
“thank you. i’m sorry-“
“don’t, it’s not your fault.” he opened his arms and you fell into them, hugging him tightly. “chuckys just getting patched up in the medic room. mostly procedure that they have to check him after a fight - usually it only happens during a game though,” he joked, and you found yourself smiling for real for the first time that night.
“is he in a lot of trouble?”
“no more than he normally gets himself into. it’ll be fine, y/n,” he assured you, but you were still worried there might be some legal repercussions. deciding there was nothing you could do about that right now, you managed to push the thought away and sat down on a bench in the locker room.
“you waiting around for him?” verhaeghe asked, and you nodded, eyes on the floor again.
“yeah. i think i’d be a shitty person not to.”
“you could never be a shitty person,” he smiled. “we miss you. chucky especially.” you looked up at him sadly.
“i miss you guys too.”
the medic door opened with a creak, and matthew walked out. you kept your eyes on your feet, counting the laces on your shoes over and over again.
“i’ll see you later,” carter said goodbye to both of you before leaving the room. you didn’t dare look up as matthew walked over slowly and sat down next to you, leaving space between you as his gaze lingered on you.
“you waited,” he said softly.
“yeah…. i don’t think i should have, but i wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“you wanted to make sure i was okay?” he laughed softly. “yeah, i’m okay.” he said, and an awkward silence filled the room. “was he always like that?” he asked gently, and you shook your head sadly.
“nope,” you said bitterly, eyes growing wet with tears. “he was perfect at first. until he wasn’t.”
“i’m sorry.”
“don’t be. it’s not your fault.”
“i still am. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you didn’t reply, knowing he was right. “y/n, you haven’t even looked at me.” he hand touched yours on the bench next to you, his touch so soft and gentle it was unfamiliar.
you turned your head towards him, and his heart broke at your sad expression. his lip was split open, red and forming a bruise already. you reached for his face without thinking, pulling your hand back before you went too far.
“what do you want me to say?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. with the carefulness of someone touching glass, he brushed it off your face, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.
“do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asked, somewhat ignoring your question. he didn’t want you to say anything, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.
“i can figure something out,” you said, going through the options in your head; likely a hotel or sleeping in your car.
“please, i would feel a lot better if i knew you were somewhere safe. i have an extra bed in my hotel room-“
“no, matthew. i can’t do this.”
“do what?” he asked.
“this,” you gestured between the two of you. “thank you for protecting me, but i can’t let myself be near you. it’s too hard.”
“please,” his blue eyes looking in yours. the smell of his cologne wafted to your nose, filling you with a sense of safety that only he could ever bring you.
“okay,” you nodded.
the drive to the hotel was short and silent, but you felt at ease for the first time all night. the more time you spent with him, the more it felt like no time had passed; like things were back to how they were before. matthew held your hand the whole drive, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of it gently, his touch like a feather.
you got up to the hotel room and he grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase for you.
“you a coyotes fan now?” he teased, and you laughed. matthew hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound, but did he would do anything to hear it again and again.
“not by choice,” you laughed, pulling mikes jersey over your head, putting the t-shirt over your undershirt you had on.
“did he know about -“
“no,” you shook your head, dropping the jersey in the small garbage can, and matthew cracked a smile. “he probably wouldn’t have liked it very much.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to -“
“it’s okay. i know. how’s your lip?” you asked, still feeling guilty about it.
“it’s not my first split lip. i’ll live,” he smiled.
“is nick okay?” you asked, remembering the nasty hit during the game.
“he wasn’t feeling too hot after that. i’m not sure yet,” he admitted, and you nodded, before covering your mouth as a yawn slipped past your lips. “come on, sleepyhead, let get you to bed.”
you nodded, dragging your exhausted body into the nearest of the two queen sized beds. matthew tucked you into bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you reached for his hand before he could walk away.
“lay with me?” you asked sleepily, knowing it was selfish to use him as a safety net right now; but you felt you would fall apart without him.
“are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded. he crawled into bed next to you, letting you cling to him like a life raft. “you’re safe now. i won’t let anyone hurt you, baby, i promise.”
“i know, matty,” you snuggled into him, everything about him bringing you comfort you hadn’t felt since you left; his scent, his voice, the feeling of his arms around you. “i missed you.”
“god, i missed you to. i don’t want to let you go again.”
“please don’t,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears that fell onto the fabric of his shirt, your fingers gripping it so tight your knuckles hurt. “don’t let me go.”
“i won’t.”
you felt like you were dreaming; what had started as a nightmare turning into the first time you had felt safe in months. you were scared that you would wake up and it hadn’t been real - you would be next to mike in his apartment, the cold draft from the window on your side of the bed would prickle you skin like it always did and you would have to apologize for not having his lunch ready for work.
but instead you would wake up in the arms of someone who actually cared about you, the sun peeking through the cracks of the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin. along with it, matthew brought a light to your life that had been missing for so long, you thought it was lost for good.
matthew pressed another soft kiss to your forehead as you felt yourself falling asleep, knowing you were protected as long as he was next to you.
“thank you matty,” you murmured, barely awake as you nose brushed the side of his jaw, your face tucked into the crook of his neck.
“anything for you.”
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
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so anyways secret relationship with volleyball player bf!suguru
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"special delivery?"
he perks up when he hears your voice, turning to face you with a smile, dark eyes shining. he's still in his track jacket and his hair is down, so you figure they haven't started warmups yet. you were right on time.
"hey, pretty." he's trying so hard not to outwardly freak out that you're here, but excitement still seeps into his voice. he has to physically stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground; god forbid the rest of the team figured out he had a partner since keeping satoru's mouth shut was difficult enough. still, the reserved, cool guy façade always melts away when you're around. "what're you doing here?"
"eh, just came by to see my favorite player." you maintain a respectful distance from him, as if you didn't know every inch of his body like it was your own. as if you haven't memorized every line of corded muscle or rough patch on his hands. as if he wasn't yours.
"oh?" his pretty mouth quirks teasingly. "and who would that be? maybe i could help you find him." he takes a step toward you and, in turn, you step backward. his lips part in surprise and your knees threaten to give out from how hot his stare feels on your body.
"i don't think that'd be such a good idea."
he scoffs, finally understanding what you were doing. you liked playing this game with him before every match you were able to watch, seeing how far you could flirt with him and play hard to get before he breaks. he was good, but you were better.
"it wouldn't?" his eyebrows furrow, eyebrows that you had trimmed and cleaned up days before. the same eyes that looked up from your lap with so much love now narrowed with suspicion.
"no," you sigh with exaggerated dramatics, putting on your best fake pout. "i don't wanna break his concentration before such a big game. he tells me semi-finals are pretty important." and so are you, his mind is screaming. every nerve in his body just wants to touch you, hold you, show how much he loves you.
and you're exploiting every ounce of restraint he's struggling to hold down.
you turn to leave, hearing his breath hitch behind you, and take a few careful steps away from him. "maybe i'll catch him when he's done, though i do have a pretty busy schedule-" you smirk in triumph when his hand gently but firmly grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him and determinedly pressing his lips to yours. gossip be damned, you were driving him absolutely out of his mind. you smile against his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his nose before pulling away slightly to find his hands on your waist. your arms instinctually wrap around his neck like they have hundreds of times before. "hello, boyfriend."
"hello, lover. done with your silly game?"
"mhmm, because i'm the winner."
"how so?"
"got to skip out on some boring council summit to see my smoking hot boyfriend play with balls." his fingers pinch your side lightly and you yelp.
"it's only one ball," he corrects while dropping his voice to a suggestive volume, "and maybe we can discuss later what you know about playing with balls." your face feels like it was set on fire as he laughs and you try to wiggle out of his grip to no avail, opting to lightheartedly slap his bicep. "oops. too far?"
"get your mind out of the gutter. this is what i mean by distracting you before a game."
"to be fair, i was only joining you in the gutter; you were there first. also, i don't understand why you think i won't get distracted every time you're around."
"should i stop coming around, then?"
his face becomes lethally serious. "don't you fucking dare."
you chuckle, finally remembering why you went to find him before the game in the first place. "oh, you left these at my place and i figured you'd need them today," you say while you fish around in your bag for black hairties. he looks at you like you painted all the stars in the sky when you motion him to turn around and pull his hair back into a sturdy bun. when you're done, he sneaks a quick kiss to your temple before you can pull away, and then several more for good measure. "what happened to 'i want to keep this a secret,' sweetheart?"
"sorry, i tend to lose my composure when my smoking hot council president ditches events for me." he nudges his nose against yours sweetly and your eyes flutter shut.
"it's okay, i'm sure they'll forgive you." when you open a single eye, wary of the sudden silence, you catch several shocked pairs of eyes over suguru's muscled shoulder. satoru is watching with his hands raised in surrender, as if to say that it wasn't his fault. "however, you may have some explaining to do to the others."
"that can wait," he murmurs. "i need to focus on winning now that my biggest distraction is here."
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my mind is a cacophony of vb player satoru, vb player suguru, hq sakusa, and hq suna and i'm having a hard time distinguishing who is who at this point LMAO but anyways hope you liked this <3
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driaswrld · 7 months
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what was i made for? — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
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wc : 1.3k
summary : reader and the boys go through the aftermath of the star plasma vessel incident, which leaves reader questioning just how much things have changed and if there's even a way to move forward from here.
part of : the star paradox collection.
notes : this is readers pov of how things are going, and im hoping to do satoru and suguru's own parts as well bcus this really fleshes out the dynamics in the trio. also, the tsr collection will dive into more of this in terms of character analysis for the sake of the au - but i won't kill y'all with too much angst. yet. IM KIDDING CHILL!!
other : jjk szn two spoilers! mentions of toji incident, mentions of hickeys, reader dissociates, rs label is undefined (they're literally dating without knowing it bye) yes im also having thoughts abt barbie goodbye. @kfmcykdy gets the privilege tag today <33
current casette : what was i made for? - barbie, the album.
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The summer of ‘06, everything changed.
It started days after the incident with Riko.
You’d been sitting on Suguru’s bed, back leaned against the headboard as he smoked a cigarette, shirtless and flat on his back, head leaned over the edge of the bed.
More often than usual now, Suguru smokes.
Satoru makes fun with it all in good faith most times and takes a few drags from the stick himself before coughing out the smoke.
He’d say something along the lines of him and Suguru being the first to kick the bucket, leaving you behind — one from lung cancer the other from diabetes, cause truly, there’s nothing in this world living and breathing that could kill them.
Suguru would say, he isn’t afraid of death. And if he goes out, he wants it to be because you and Satoru smothered him in his sleep.
Everything’s changed, hasn’t it?
“It’s raining,” he murmurs, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. Subconsciously, you lean forward a little to inhale it, chasing him. Always chasing.
Because if Suguru is smoke and Satoru is fire, what are you? If they’re the strongest, what are you? “Satoru forgot his umbrella.” You finish for him, like you’ve taken residence in his mind.
Suguru hates it. But his existence, it’s yours and Satoru’s isn’t it?
There’s a hickey adorning the base of Suguru’s throat, another trail of marks covering his collarbone. If you looked lower, you’d see more of you and Satoru embedded in his flesh. But even now, you can’t move your eyes below Suguru’s neck. So you look away entirely.
Too many times these past days have you looked straight at him, and have your mind transported back to the image of him bloody and bruised, caked in crimson from the edge of his shoulders, across the expanse of his chest down to the curved line of his pelvis.
It's funny how now the scar is shaped like a star.
That day, you’d just returned from a mission, a day later than your arrival was scheduled for. Your bag clattered out of your hand the moment you opened your dorm door. Drops of blood in dried trails led from the doorway to your bed, to the bathroom then back.
He came to you first, and you weren’t there.
“name.” Suguru whispers, and when you look over to him again, he’s sitting upright and looking at you. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks, and a chilly feeling blossoms on your skin. But it’s not from the rain breeze wafting through the window.
If I tell you, you’ll hold me.
And if you hold me, I’ll shatter in your arms.
“Just daydreaming.” You say and he looks at you, one brow raised slightly. Suguru leans to the side and flicks the cigarette butt through the open window.
He doesn’t ask. Maybe because he knows if Satoru asked him, he wouldn’t say it either.
Everything’s changed.
“Okay,” he says and Suguru, your beautiful Suguru — “name.” He calls to you again, except this time it comes out softer, more like a plea.
His body shifts atop the sheets, curling into a fetal position, the side of his cheek resting on the fat of your thigh. “Don’t go too far away from me next time,” he whispers, your fingers sifting through his dark hair.
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Two days later, Satoru leaves for a mission in Shinjuku.
He wakes early, knocks on your dorm door twice, slides a note under the door with a thin packet of powdered candy taped to it.
You don’t get out of bed to pick it up. Satoru thinks you must be tired again. You look so tired these days.
When you finally wake up, it’s afternoon.
Suguru is home from his own mission, and he makes you a cup of tea, kisses your cheek and heads to his room.
Lately, the thing you and Suguru have most in common is that you sleep. All the time, sleep. You wonder if it’s for different reasons.
Then later, the clock in the corridor of the dormitory building strikes nine.
You hear Satoru’s shoes against the hardwood floors and you look over your shoulder from where you’re seated on the common room couch, some cheesy romcom playing on the tv.
“Yo.” Satoru smiles, white plastic bag rustling in his grasp when he pushes his sunglasses up to rest in his snowy hair. You smile back at him, and despite yourself, your gaze goes back to the tv, the soft lighting hiding the furrow of your brow.
Does he not notice?
No, it’s not that.
“Did you eat already?” He asks, setting the bag down on the coffee table in front of you. Rather than sitting beside you on the couch, he pushes the plastic bag to the side and rests his weight there on the coffee table, one leg crossed in an ‘L shape’ over the other.
His collar is high, even though it’s hot out.
Maybe, if you didn’t know him enough, all these things would sneak past your gaze.
Everyday, every new detail, every new scar whether physical or not, gnaws at you like a disease stirring your insides.
Satoru won’t say it, but he doesn’t like when anyone touches his neck anymore.
He used to love it, when Suguru would kiss his nape, when you move the soft strands aside to cut his hair. When the tip of Suguru’s nose tickles his adam’s apple, or when you lick a stripe at the bottom of his throat.
Limitless. Infinity. Invincible.
Until it isn't.
“Yeah, Shoko brought over takeout,” you say and the glow of his blue orbs don’t really feel like Satoru right now.
If this was a month ago, you’d laugh at yourself for thinking that. When is Satoru never Satoru?
But, has everything really changed?
You want to reach a hand out to him and unzip the top of his uniform, maybe then he could breathe a little easier. But why?
Why do your fingers tremble in your lap?
Something inside of you feels like your fingers will be met with a barrier. And if you try to touch him now, with a barrier between you two, it will kill you again.
More than the sight of his near lifeless body ever could.
“name?” He tilts his head to the side, and your eyes dart back to him, unaware that you even looked away in the first place.
There’s a sound of static from the tv just as your eyes meet his, and the two of you rise from your seats at the same time —
Who’s chasing who this time?
There's a scar there on his neck, you know it. He hasn't given you the chance to look at it for longer than a few seconds — Toji is burned into his flesh.
Or rather, a reminder of his weakness is.
Satoru opens his mouth to say something. But he isn’t as easily read as Suguru sometimes.
His emotions are clouded by more complex emotions. When Satoru feels, he feels everything.
He comes in a box with one hundred different user manuals in different languages that no one knows. Suguru was a translator, and you, a scribe, committing him to memory. But even then —
Why won’t you say what you feel, Satoru?
He clenches a fist by his side, like he's holding back, his gaze drops from yours and he walks over to the tv, knocking the top of it a few times to get it to stop glitching out. In between that he whispers, “I brought noodles — somen for Suguru and the cold soba you like…”
Satoru looks tired, he falters in his stride.
Strength, huh?
The air around you feels cold with the weight of his cursed energy, no matter how thin and how much he tries to regulate the flow, you can feel it.
You would know him blind.
How long have you been seeing everything in the world but us?
You’ve never wanted to cry more in your life.
“I’m sure Suguru could eat,” you whisper back, voice a little hoarse. Suguru is probably asleep, or pretending to, like he does sometimes, just so he doesn’t have to see Satoru after missions like this – where he’s trying so hard. So hard to do more, to be more.
And you don’t see it, but you have a feeling Satoru’s heart is breaking in two. Why?
Why are things so different no matter how hard we try?
“Yeah? I have a dvd of that movie we never got to watch somewhere under my bed—”
Maybe.
Everything’s changed.
But maybe, things need to change.
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halfvalid · 8 months
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kitten
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ABOUT
alternate title: the pet name 'kitten' is gross when used by men but it's cute when a woman nami says it
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!nami | fem!reader | live action!roronoa zoro
pairing: live action!nami x fem!reader
word count: 4.4k
description: nami is aware you've got a crush on one of the straw hats, and she's determined to find out who—but she's completely oblivious to the fact that you actually like her.
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of “y/n”, pet name "kitten", banter, absolutely tooth rotting amounts of fluff, a little bit of (affectionate) zoro slander
author’s note: i interrupt your regularly scheduled zoro fic posts to provide you with a sapphic nami oneshot instead because she is my wife and i love her dearly.
zoro accidentally popped up a bit too much in this because he's always on my mind. my apologies <3
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You’d always liked astronomy. The current-world navigation had nothing to do with the stars, really; at least not when it came to the Grand Line. Unnatural magnetic fields and the odd weather was reason enough for that—but celestial navigation wasn’t even often used in any of the four quadrants. Too finicky, people would say; you know the practice had stopped being in use in the Marines years ago. 
Nami knew it all, though. She was the only one of the Straw Hats who could read the stars, the sky spreading out as a map that only her eyes could read. 
Your interest in it had always been more… artistic. While Nami babbled on about angles and reference points and sextants, you liked to talk about the planets and heavenly bodies blanketing the sky. It was dusk, and the sun was kissing the horizon good night, dull hues of pink and orange spreading alongside the sea with a golden shimmer as it tucked safely away. 
You’d been lying out on the main deck for a good few hours, stretched like a cat along a hammock you’d strung up forever ago, when you heard footsteps. 
“There you are, kitten,” Nami said with a laugh, and you sat up to appraise her. The evening glow cast fire to her orange hair, a blazing halo surrounding her head and painting her skin over in gold dust. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 
“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. “What for?” 
“Well, for one, you missed supper.” Nami gingerly took a seat on the side of your hammock, the canvas cloth rocking from side to side with the motion. “Avoiding your crush again?” 
You let out a sigh, half-exasperated as your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth. You nibbled at the flesh there, not responding. Nami had figured out a few weeks ago that you had a crush on one of the other Straw Hats, and she brought it up every so often, although all it did was cause a crease in your brow bone and a flicker of annoyance on your face. 
“What, am I not supposed to bring that up?” Nami teased. The light shone in her crystal blue eyes, clear like the sky during midday, not a cloud in sight. “You still haven’t told me who it is.” 
“Because you’ll pull something if I do!” you protested. “Don’t try to deny it, you conniving little witch.” 
Nami gasped in mock-offense, a hand plastered to her chest. “And destroy your dignity like that? I would never.” 
“I don’t trust you,” you answered, and Nami clicked her tongue. “What did Sanji make?” 
“Fish. Soup. Rice.” 
“You’re so undescriptive,” you said with a wrinkle of your nose. Nami just laughed. 
“Not everyone can be as artistic as you, kitten. Come on, everyone left the kitchen already. You don’t have to worry about running into your mystery man.” She winked at the last sentence, and your breath caught. Nami seemed to notice, because she laughed, stepping up from the hammock and grabbing your hand to help you off. “You’re hilarious.” 
“I didn’t say anything!” you protested. Nami just gave you a look, and you rolled your eyes, but let her drag you along the ship until you reached the kitchen. “You’re so mean to me,” you said, slumping into the nearest chair available. 
“Mhm. Here.” Nami started serving up a plate, loading it full of food before passing it over to you. It was quickly joined by a bowl of soup. “Eat. We’re docking tomorrow, so you should get your energy up. We’re going shopping.” 
“Shopping for what?” you asked, bringing the bowl of soup to your lips. Seaweed. “If you say rope and boat parts I’m going to scream.” As much as you liked the pirate life, there was only so much of the technicalities you could take. You weren’t very much a practical soul, lumped in very much with Luffy when it came to your general attitude of your job description. Pirating consisted of adventure and art, in your opinion. 
“Rope and boat parts,” Nami said with a straight face. She’d always been the exact opposite, all focused on maps and making sure everything was running smoothly. “Well, only partly. I’ve been sent to go clothes shopping too. And to pick up a few other supplies.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’re coming with me, right? Well, unless you want to join your…” 
“Shut up,” you said, making a face at her as you set your bowl down. Nami just laughed. 
“Just putting it out there, kitten. I’m sure you might be more interested in going with Usopp to talk to the stevedores. Or Zoro to the local tavern. Or Sanji for the—” 
“Nope, nope, and nope. I’m going with you,” you said firmly. There was a whisper of a smile at your lips, but Nami didn’t seem to notice it. “And I still don’t get why I’m a kitten.” 
“Because,” Nami answered, propping her elbows on the table as she gazed over at you. “I’m the cat burglar. You’re the kitten.”
“Why isn’t Luffy the kitten?” 
“Luffy’s the captain, and I don’t like him as much.” Nami straightened, starting to clean up around the kitchen and load the abandoned dishes from when everyone else had eaten into the sink. You smiled at that. “You don’t like him, do you? I feel like you could do so much better.” 
“My lips are sealed,” you answered. Nami gave you a sidelong look.
“That better not be a yes.” 
You just shrugged, raising the bowl of soup again and finishing the rest of it before turning to the rice and fish. “Let’s not talk about it. What about you? Any romantic prospects—” 
Nami turned so abruptly you almost choked while eating. “I just barely started learning how to make friends. Maybe we wait a few months before we get to that,” she said. You coughed, palm pressed to your lips as you cleared out your airways.
“Okay. Aggressive.”
Nami scowled. “That was not aggressive.” 
You pulled a face. “Kinda sounds like you have something to hide, Nami,” you teased, and although you didn’t actually expect her to react, she did. To your surprise, Nami turned away again, the very edges of her face pinkening. You stared at her, heartbeat slowing to a steady thud in your chest. There was a faint taste of panic at the back of your throat, slightly sour and acidic like blood or rust. “Um, what was that?” 
“What was what?” Nami asked evenly. Too evenly. You gaped at her back, organs wobbling precariously inside of your chest. 
“That—thing.” 
“Kitten, if you want me to understand what you’re talking about, you’re going to have to be a little clearer than that,” Nami said smoothly. “Now it’s getting dark. You should get to bed. Last chance to shove yourself with your crewmate of choice.” 
“I’m still going with you,” you said stubbornly, shoveling the last of your rice in your mouth before slipping off your chair. You moved around the table, setting your bowl and chopsticks into the sink. “You want me to do them?” you asked, nodding at the dirty dishes that’d piled up. Nami shook her head.
“Go sleep,” she said gently. “I’ll get you in the morning.” 
You watched her for a moment, lips twisting before you finally relented. “Night, Nami,” you said, and she turned away. You were safe there for a moment, admiring how the soft backlit glow from the windows etched shadows along her face. She really was beautiful, and your heart thudded fast in your chest. 
Nami was the strongest person you knew. The smartest person you knew. The Straw Hats wouldn’t be the same without her, and sometimes you found it funny how she seemed so convinced you had a crush on one of the other members of the crew when it was so obvious that she was your north star. 
Ah, well. She’d just have to keep on guessing. 
Nami woke you at the crack of dawn, where the hazy rays of the sun just started rising up from the sea shore. You’d traveled to shore while asleep, and everyone was already up and running. 
“Luffy left already,” Nami was saying, tying a bandana around her head as you gathered up the rest of the supplies you needed. “And we’ll probably spend the whole day out, so we can get lunch in the village.” She eyed you. “I packed breakfast. Come on.” 
You followed her off the ship, savoring the early morning wind along the harbor. The dock men were all already hard at work, milling around the dozens of boats with tools and equipment propped on their shoulders. “Where to first?” you asked. 
“Boat parts,” she said, casting you a sympathetic smile. “Some rope, extra sails, some other stuff. After that I’m thinking groceries—I put Sanji in charge of bulk stock this time, so just stuff like soap and necessities—and then clothes.” She grinned. “And some fun stuff.” 
“Sounds good to me,” you said. Nami did most of the talking, but you were content to watch her barter, leaning back on your heels as she argued with sellers and eventually left with a satisfied smirk on your face. She hired some of the dock men to carry the ropes and items to the Going Merry, looking her arm in yours and going off to your next stop. 
“You know, you’re basically stealing from them like this,” you told her, a smile evident in your voice. “Forty-five thousand berry to thirty thousand. That’s actually terrifying.” 
“I said take it or leave it and he took it.” Nami shrugged, but you could see a beam of pride shine through her face. “But enough of that. The market’s up ahead.” 
The entire village seemed to have been brought out, because true to Nami’s words, there was a fair going on. Stalls boasting all kinds of wares lined the streets, and you peeked through all of them, even at Nami’s urges to hurry up and focus only on your shopping list. She watched you with a soft smile on her lips, the expressions interlaced with ones of exasperation. 
“I should’ve just picked a random man and carted you off with him,” she said with a click of her tongue as you spent far too much time glancing through a stand of knick-knacks and jewelry. “Currently either Zoro or Sanji are my top contenders.” 
You barely suppressed a snort, fingers carefully combing through a bowl of baubles. There were various items inside, from earrings missing a sister to pins and little statuettes. “How come?” 
“Usopp has Kaya, so I would hope you don’t like him,” Nami said. You raised an eyebrow, glancing up to meet her gaze. 
“Kaya’s all the way back in Syrup Village, Nami. She can’t do anything, and who knows when we’ll return there?”
Nami gave you a horrified look. “Kitten, that’s a terrible thing to say.” 
You just laughed, dropping your gaze again and picking at the bowl. There was a dull gleam of something at the bottom; it wasn’t gold or brass like anything else there, and was instead a shining, milky white. You dug through the pile, trying to get to it. “You’re such a romantic.” 
“Does that mean it is Usopp?” 
“I do not confirm nor deny a thing,” you said, finally plucking out what had captured your attention. It was a necklace, the pendant a glittering star on a gold chain. “And I want reasoning.”  
“You’re not buying that,” Nami said, gaze flickering down to it before meeting your eyes again. “Zoro because he’s conventionally attractive and Sanji because he can cook.” 
You scoffed, studying the necklace. “Those are terrible reasons.” 
“I can’t think of any good ones,” Nami protested. “The only thing I can think of are reasons you wouldn’t like any of them. Because they’re all kind of losers and you could do much, much better.” She tilted her head imperceptibly upwards, and you saw a little glimmer in her eye, a reaction that bore uncanny similarity to the one she’d worn the day before. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry. 
“You think Zoro’s conventionally attractive?” You turned towards the stand seller, motioning at the necklace. “How much?”
“You’re not buying that,” Nami repeated, shooting you a look. “It’s a waste of perfectly good berry.” 
“It’s five hundred at most,” you scoffed, fishing a wad of bills out from your pocket. Nami sighed, but she didn’t argue. “Barely anything. Do you think Zoro’s conventionally attractive?”
Nami looked distracted. “Hm?” 
“You said Zoro was conventionally attractive,” you repeated, voice firmer this time. You tried to suppress the little tremble in your cadence as you passed the money to the seller. He counted it and gave you a firm nod. Carefully, you dropped the necklace in your pocket. “Do you think he is?” 
“Well—from an objective standpoint—” 
You pushed past the swarm of patrons milling around the stands, Nami having to quicken her pace to keep up with you. “Attraction isn’t objective.” 
“Kitten.” Nami grabbed your wrist, forcing you to slow down, and you flinched. She tugged you in the direction of another stand, probably something off her list. “Why do you care so much? Am I right? Is he the one you like?” 
You wiggled your wrist out of Nami’s grip. “I don’t care, I’m just curious. Because you’ve been blushing for the past half hour and you mentioned Zoro was conventionally attractive. And if you say he’s conventionally attractive that means you think he’s conventionally attractive. So assumedly you are blushing because of—” 
It clearly took Nami a moment to unscramble your honestly entirely nonsensical words. “Kitten, I’m trying to figure out whether or not you have a crush on Zoro. You’re not supposed to be trying to figure out if I do. And I have not been blushing.” 
You relented, but still couldn’t suppress the pout that threatened your mouth. Your teeth pressed against the flesh of your lower lip, running alongside the skin but not fully biting. “You said Zoro was conven—” 
“If I have to hear you say the words conventionally attractive one more time, I swear I will lock you in the hold,” Nami said sharply, and you had to choke back your laugh. “And the reason I said that is because every single time we go out, at least five people turn to stare at his stupid face. Do you not remember that time on Mirror Ball Island? We practically had to fight women off of him.”
“Okay, fine,” you said, a glimpse at her features seemed to support her words. She was as guarded as ever, and clearly irritated, though her vexation didn’t seem as bad as the annoyances she’d hold over the rest of the crew. They never did, really; Luffy always liked to say that you were Nami’s favorite. “I’m hungry. Can we eat?” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“I neither confirm nor deny anything,” you repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past week. “Restaurant. Please.” 
Nami didn’t look away from you, but relented, and the two of you went to the nearest restaurant to have lunch. You were mainly silent during the meal, replaying the conversation from before over and over again in your head. There was a buzz of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach, one that you entirely disliked. 
Before you’d been fine with keeping quiet about your crush—you never felt too threatened or upset, under the impression that your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated and that Nami wouldn’t fall for anyone in the near future anyway. And you didn’t mind her guessing between your four male comrades to find the one who’d stolen your heart. 
But the reactions and the blushes were a development. And you were starting to think that Nami herself had a mystery beau. 
Nami talked about work during the meal, going down her grocery list and checking off the things she’d gotten. You watched her as she glared down at her notebook, pencil caught between two fingers as she scribbled down notes to herself. “You’re not eating,” you said gently. 
“Sorry. Distracted,” Nami answered. She shot you a smile, but it quickly fell as she turned back to her notebook. “What about Sanji?” 
You suppressed a sigh. “Are you still on about this?” 
“Yes,” Nami insisted. She finally shut her notebook, slipping it into the bag hanging off her waist and picking up her chopsticks to return to her soup noodles. “You’d never go hungry with him around, at least.” 
“I think you need to raise your standards. I already don’t go hungry with him around, I don’t need to date him for that.” 
Nami clicked her tongue, but it was good-natured. “You’re making this so hard for me.” 
“I don’t want to talk about myself anymore,” you insisted, setting down your chopsticks. You’d basically finished your bowl already; there were only the final remnants of broth and rice noodles at the bottom, the soup seasoning darker in color; more pungent. 
You fiddled with your hands, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that persisted even as you thought back to what Nami had said about Zoro. Her reasoning had been sound enough, but you still felt vaguely sick, that bitter taste of sour iron at the back of your throat again. 
“Are you okay?” Nami’s eyes met yours, and you flinched away. “You’re acting weird.” 
“I’m fine,” you muttered. “I think I’m going to head back to the ship and take a nap. I’m kind of tired.” Before Nami could say anything, you got up, chair scraping along the restaurant floor. “See you later?” 
“What? Kitten, wait—” Nami called, but you just swallowed, glancing over your shoulder to shoot her an apologetic look. 
The Going Merry was a breath of fresh air as you stepped foot back onto her deck. There were some dockmen milling about, setting material along the deck as Usopp directed them as to where everything went. 
You brushed past them to veer towards your hammock, slipping onto it and kicking your legs up along the cloth without pause. Your eyes closed, and you let the sun melt down on your face, the tension in your chest easing as you embraced the beam of the sky. 
You stayed there for a while, knowing you were safe as Nami wouldn’t come find you until she’d finished with all her actual tasks. Although this was occasionally irritating if you were in real desire for attention, you appreciated the responsible side of her now. You didn’t have to confront her for a few hours yet, so you spent the time on your hammock, watching the clouds drifting in the sky and picking out the dull stars that shimmered as the sky got darker. 
It was just before suppertime when you remembered the necklace you’d bought. Stars were just beginning to materialize, dark blues and purples replacing the cerulean hues that previously blanketed the Earth. You fished the star necklace out of your pocket, peering at the pendant again. It was made of some sort of shimmering stone you didn’t recognize—perhaps opal—that made it glow like an actual star, iridescent when light hit it. 
“Hey, kitten.” 
You looked up, watching as Nami made her way across the ship deck to where you lay. She looked tired, but still bore a soft smile on her face as she met your gaze. “Hi,” you said, tucking the necklace back into your pocket. Behind her you could see the last of the hired work carrying barrels down to the hold. “Get everything done?” 
“Mhm,” Nami said. “Wanna talk about earlier?” 
“Not really,” you muttered, the sharp tang of rust dancing at the back of your tongue again. “Sorry about storming out. I felt unwell.” 
Nami studied you carefully, arms folding unconsciously over her chest. “I can stop bothering you about your crush, if you want,” she said finally, a gust of a sigh leaving her lips. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“No, it’s okay,” you said, getting up and climbing your legs over the edge so you were sitting on the hammock. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Nami, I swear.” 
“You walked out in the middle of a meal, kitten,” Nami said, and you could hear her voice starting to get upset, even as she tried to level her tone. “Clearly I did. Was it because I kept trying to figure it out? Was I right with Zoro? What—”
“It’s not because of that,” you interrupted, trying to keep your voice gentle even as your chest squeezed inward. You were powerless to your muscles; to your heart as it did a pathetic little thump-thump thing inside of you. 
“Then why?” Nami leaned forward on her heels, and the setting sun caught her eyes, kaleidoscope blue glittering a thousand different shades like the opal of your necklace. “Just tell me, kitten. So I won’t do it again.” 
“It was because of you,” you mumbled, shying away from her gaze. Nami sighed. 
“Yes, we established that I did something to upset you already. I’m trying to find out what—”
“You called Zoro attractive and I was jealous,” you blurted, before you could even think to stop the words from falling out of your mouth. Nami froze, and you lifted your eyes up hesitantly to see her reaction. 
Her shoulders were all tense, face guarded, eyes blank from their usual expression. “Oh,” she said evenly. There was an ugly purse tightening at her lips, and she fought to keep them in an even line. “So it is Zoro, then. Thank you for telling me.”  
She turned away then, her movements abrupt as she started walking. A pulse of panic captured your heart, and you called desperately out to her, volume far too loud in the late hour. You didn’t find yourself caring. “I wasn’t jealous of you!” you cried, and Nami’s entire body went still. 
She turned back towards you, so slowly that you found yourself capturing your breath in your throat waiting for her. 
“I wasn’t jealous of you,” you repeated once her eyes met yours. “I was jealous of Zoro. Of you thinking he was attractive.” Your fingers fumbled together, trying to find something to occupy themselves with as you choked out the final sentence. “My mystery man is you, Nami. I like you.” 
It took a long while for Nami to respond, and the Going Merry rocked as you waited, a soft sway of delay and building panic. There was a shimmer of something in Nami’s eyes, and her lips tugged downwards. 
Her voice was hollow when she spoke. “What?” 
“I don’t like Zoro or Usopp or Sanji or Luffy, Nami,” you said, hands tightening around each other with every word spilt out from between your lips. “I like you. I like you when you call me kitten. I like you when you complain about me buying things but let me do it anyway. I like you even when you’re teasing me about my crush.” Your voice dropped to a low mumble. “And I was jealous because you thought Zoro was attractive.” 
“Oh, kitten,” Nami said, and you glanced up to see her right in front of you, bent over to meet your level sitting down. She reached for your hands, and you let her take them, exhaling as her tender grasp clasped around your palms.
“Nami,” you whispered, horrified to hear how wet your voice sounded. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Nami, you may be the ship’s navigator, but you’re my north star. I like you.” 
Kitten, I do not think Zoro is attractive,” Nami said, and you had to choke back startled laughter at that being what she was focusing on. “That is the least of your worries.” 
“But—you seemed so annoyed when you thought it was Zoro—don’t you like—” 
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Nami said, a soft laugh leaving her lips. They were trembling. Her entire body was trembling, even her hands as she cocooned yours in them. “I was annoyed because I thought you liked Zoro. Because—I like you too.” 
You swallowed, surprise forcing your jaw to fall slack as you met her gaze. “Really?” you whispered. Nami nodded; she coaxed soft circles into the skin of your hands, a supportive smile edging up her lips. 
“I really thought you liked someone else, kitten, I would’ve said something before if—” Nami let out another gentle laugh. “If I knew. It wasn’t until you told me about the crush did I realize. I got a little… too overprotective, and then… well, it wasn’t very platonic at that point.” She ducked her head, hiding her smile, but you slipped one of your hands out of her grasp to push it back up. “God, you’re too good for any of them.” 
“I don’t want to talk about how the rest of them suck,” you murmured. “I want to talk about how amazing you are. Oh—and—” You dug your hand in your pocket, pulling out the necklace. “This reminded me of you. I got it for you.” 
“Kitten,” Nami breathed, as you unclasped the necklace and carefully put it on her. It swung around her neck before you adjusted it, golden yellow bright against the white of her pale skin. The opal glittered, catching the moonlight that’d steadily glowed brighter from behind you. “Thank you. It’s still a waste of money though.” 
“Not for you,” you said, grabbing her hands to squeeze her fingers. “Never for you.” You took in a nervous breath, your chest tightening inside—but it wasn’t all bitter and sour, nothing like the taste of panic. 
Nami met you in the middle when you finally leaned up to kiss her, your hand slipping up the side of her face, fingers curling in her orange hair. She smiled when she kissed, soft and carefree for once, that serious facade she always took on melting away in the moment. She kissed softly; tenderly; like the moon shining gentle waves on the East Blue below or the sun in the hazy morning sky casting light across the world. 
There were footsteps approaching from behind Nami. You opened your eyes, tilting your gaze up to see Zoro staring down at you both. Nami broke apart from you, glancing over her shoulder. None of you said anything. 
“Okay,” Zoro decided, and then walked off. You barely managed to stifle your giggles until he was out of earshot. 
“God, he’s such a loser,” Nami said, and then kissed you again. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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zyonsay · 21 days
Note
Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥
I dare you LN4&OP81
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...
Reader: Male
Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so
Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick
AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!
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Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.
The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.
“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”
Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.
Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?
“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.
“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”
Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.
Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.
Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.
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cameronspecial · 28 days
Text
A New Kind Of Normal (Part 3)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Fight With A Parent, Swearing, and Fear of Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.0K
Summary: Rafe has accomplished his goals and is now able to meet his daughter for the first time.
Masterlist
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Over the past month, Rafe has gotten a chance to learn more about Stella from his weekly meetings with Y/N. Stella was born on May 17th, 2020 at 10:59 A.M. Her first word was Joshy, said at eleven months old when she was calling for help from her uncle Josh when her uncle Benedict would mercilessly tickle her. At two years old, she became obsessed with witches after her mother read her a book about them and it has been her favourite topic of conversation since. Her favourite colour is dark purple and her favourite food is any soup in general because she likes to pretend she is drinking a witch's potion when she eats it. The most important fact of all to Rafe: Stella Rachel Y/L/N is his little girl’s full name. Y/N had tried her best to come up with a name close to Rafe, but all the names closer she found on the internet didn’t go with Stella. Nonetheless, the action still touched him when Y/N told him that was the reason.
And now, he’ll finally get to meet his little star. His hand fidgets with the small nob on his watch, making the hands go clockwise and counterclockwise. He watches as Y/N reads over his toxicology report. She didn’t require him to do a weekly toxicology report to prove that he was staying sober, but he wanted to show her she could trust him. The logical part of him knows she won’t say that he can’t meet Stella, yet a small part of him fears she might. 
The small smile she gives him relieves him of his anxiety, “This is great, Button. I’m so proud of the work you put into staying sober.” Forming a friendship with Y/N was another amazing thing that happened this month. When she started using the nickname she gave him the night Stella was conceived, he felt the air leave his lungs just like it does now. “Thanks. I was really scared that I might relapse this week after I got into an argument with my dad, but I called Diana, did some breathing exercises and looked at my picture of Stella. It all helped me get through it,” he replies truthfully. He had truly felt fear that week when he found himself on the road towards Barry’s trailer. Luckily, he was able to fight through his desire and pull over the car before he got there. Y/N nods and reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his, “Well, I’m glad you were able to recognize your craving and reach out for help with managing it. So do you want to come over after we finish our coffee?” 
His lips stretch so far apart that people would think he is the Joker. He pulls out his phone to check his schedule, “No, I won’t have enough time to go home and change if I come tonight. I also need to get her a few things before I meet her. How about tomorrow afternoon? Is that okay?” “You know you don’t have to make a big deal about this with the changing and the gifts. As long as you love her and show her that love, she is going to reciprocate those feelings,” Y/N argues. 
“I know, I just… Meeting her is all I have been dreaming about for the last month and I want it to be perfect. Plus, it really couldn’t hurt to get her a few bribery toys.”
“I understand how you feel. When Benny came home the week before Stella was born with the wrong colour paint for her room, I almost threw a chair at him. I wanted Finch yellow, but he got funky yellow. It didn’t matter that they were virtually the same colour. I just need her room to be exactly how I planned it. So you can come over tomorrow. Just don’t buy her too many toys.” 
“I can’t be held to a gift-buying limit. I have to make up for five years.”
——
Y/N watches as Stella tries to get ready by herself, thinking about what is going to happen in just ten minutes. “Mommy, help, please,” Stella cries out for help. Y/N’s focus returns to her daughter and she has to stop herself from laughing. Stella has gotten her shirt stuck on her head because she has been trying to get her head through the armhole. Y/N approaches the young girl and helps put her head through the right hole. “You were almost there, Stells. I’m proud of you,” she praises, giving the little girl a kiss on the head. Stella shouts a thank you as she runs into her mom’s room. 
Y/N follows her daughter to her room and carries Stella over to the bed. Once Stella is safely on the bed, Y/N turns toward her dresser to get her perfume. “One tiny spray for this wrist,” Y/N pushes the top of the perfume so the scent falls on her daughter’s wrist. “And one tiny spray for the other. Now, you are ready to go. Why don’t you wait in the living room for Mommy’s special guest to arrive.” The little girl runs off as her mother suggested and Y/N is left alone in her room. She looks at herself in her mirror, wondering how her life is going to change once Stella meets her dad. It’s not that Y/N doesn’t trust Rafe, he has shown her that he really is trying. It’s that Stella isn’t going to be solely Y/N’s anymore. She will have to share some parenting duties with Rafe and it feels strange for her to do that. She is the one who stayed up with Stella when she was puking all night last year. She is the one who would read the little girl a bedtime story every day. She is the one Stella goes to when she is scared. Now, Y/N is going to have to learn to let Rafe do those things too. 
Rafe nervously wipes the sweat off of his palm and adjusts the hat on his head. The time on the clock shows he is five minutes early, but he can’t wait any longer. He knocks on the door and rocks on the balls of his feet. The door creaks open, yet Rafe is met with an empty doorway. It is only when he looks down that he sees the perfect little star staring up at him with her brilliant blue eyes. “Stella Rachel Y/L/N, what have I told you about answering the door to strangers?” Y/N scolds, walking into the room with an adorable motherly look. Stella looks back at her mother with a pouty look, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But I knows we were going to have a special guest.”
Rafe is in awe at how adorable she is, but he takes this as his chance to do the first fatherly act he will ever do. “Your mother is right, Stella. What if I was a stranger?” he poses, kneeling down to her level. She gives him wide eyes, “But you weren’t. You are the man who Mommy yelled at.” Her words cause pain to shoot through his heart. The first memory his little girl has of him is his argument with her mother. Y/N can see the hurt that crosses Rafe’s face and beckons the pair away from the doorway. “Yes, he is, Baby. But he apologized to Mommy and we are friends again. Did you see his hat?” Y/N points out. The small blue eyes move from his face up to his head and her eyes turn to delight. “You’re wearing a witch’s hat!” she exclaims, reaching up to her father’s head to try it on. “Can I try it on, please?” Glad that his conversation start is working, he takes the hat off and places it on her tiny head. Everyone giggles as the big hat falls over her eyes. 
Now, that the ice has been sufficiently broken, Y/N decides it is time to make the introduction Rafe has been waiting for. “Stella, do you know why I asked my special friend to come visit?” Y/N sits on the couch, bringing Stella on her lap. The little girl shakes her head and rests it on her mother’s chest. “He’s your Daddy, Baby.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes as she turns toward him sends him over the moon. The tiny girl flings herself into her arms and screams his new name. He never thought someone would call him those words, but now it’s the only one he wants to hear. “Does that mean you can play witch with me? I have a hat you can borrow.” With her now in his arms, he can smell the familiar vanilla fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. It makes him smile that she wants to be just like her mommy. Before he can answer, she runs off to her room to get her toys. She returns dragging a big plastic cauldron behind her. Rafe feels his father's instinct kick in. He jumps off of the couch and runs over to pick her and the cauldron up in his arms. Stella looks at him in awe, “Wow, my Daddy is super strong.” This absolutely kills him and he kisses her on the cheek. 
——
Y/N, Stella and Rafe have spent the afternoon playing various games their daughter wanted to play. When it got closer to dinner time, the three of them worked together to make something to eat. “Button, can you please pour me some more water?” Y/N asks, holding up her glass for him to do it. He picks up the water pitcher and pours it for her, “Of course, Buttercup.” Stella may be three and eleven months old, but she is very observant. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the tiny glances Rafe would send Y/N’s way. She noticed how his hand would reach to find her skin, yet it never seemed to land. She noticed how he would always ask for Y/N’s approval. And just now, she saw how his lips formed a massive smile because of her mother’s attention. 
The small girl starts to form a plan in her head; she can see how much her father is pining for her mother. He clearly needs her help. “Mommy, I like Daddy’s hair. Do you?” she questions, looking back and forward between her parents. Y/N looks up from her food to look at Rafe, “I do like his hair. It looks nice when the front of his hair falls down like a little curtain.” He stops mid-stab of the pasta to look up at her through his lashes. “I’ll take note of that then, Buttercup,” he brings his hand up to hide the blush on his cheeks. Stella is very satisfied with the results of the beginning of her plan. She feels like a genius. Y/N doesn’t know that she is going to regret letting Stella watch Hallmark movies with her. 
——
After dinner, Rafe is preparing for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to the Outer Banks. Stella is holding on to Rafe for dear life because she isn’t ready for him to go. “Mommy, why can’t Daddy stay?” she begs, looking at her mother sadly. Y/N frowns at her daughter, “I’m sorry, Baby. Not yet, there is nowhere for him to sleep. Plus, Daddy has work tomorrow and you have daycare.” Rafe can see the struggle Y/N is having with saying no to Stella and he helps her out. “How about I go over to the diner on Friday? I’ll be there when you get back from daycare. Maybe I’ll even have a surprise,” he offers, whispering the last part in her ear. 
The darling’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree and loosens her arms from his neck. “Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Bye, Daddy. I love you,” she bids adieu. She hops down from his arms and runs to get ready for bed. The quicker she goes to bed, the faster Friday comes. Rafe calls back I love you. The two adults laugh at the child as they watch her run off. The laughter dies down and Y/N turns her body toward Rafe. “It’s okay that I come by on Friday, right?” Rafe confirms with a hopeful smile. 
“Of course, as long as you are sober, I won’t stop you from seeing her. The extra business is good too.” 
“Haha, I’ll make sure to deposit my paycheck before I go in then. Also, please let me know if you need anything. Money for food, rent, toys, clothes, tuition. Anything, okay. I want to pull my weight. She’s my daughter too.”
“I will, I promise. Thank you for coming over tonight. You made her day.”
They both look at each other for a second and then notice the time. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late,” Rafe concludes, taking a step closer to the door. Y/N tries to hide her slight disappointment, “Uh, yeah. Drive safe. See you on Friday.” Rafe nods his head and opens the door. “See you on Friday.” Y/N stays by the door as she watches Rafe walk down her driveway. She waves goodbye to him as he gets into his car and drives away. Once he is out of sight, she closes the door and reflects on the day. It was strange to have Rafe there, but she doesn’t regret the decision. She saw how much he cared for Stella and it solidified the idea in her mind that he is meant to be a father. This is a new kind of normal that she can get used to. 
——
Since Sarah and Rafe moved out of Tannyhill, Ward insisted on having family dinner every week. Everyone knows Sarah’s departure is the main reason why Ward wanted to do so, especially since Ward tried to have just Sarah come to dinner. However, thanks to Sarah, Ward gave in to inviting Rafe. Most dinners start with Ward getting small talk with Rafe about work out of the way before he moves on with asking Sarah about a full second-by-second breakdown of her week. And this Wednesday is not any different, but Rafe has something else other than work to talk to his dad about. 
“Actually, Dad, there is something I want to talk to you about,” Rafe brings to the table, looking Ward dead in his eyes. Ward stops chewing, not really expecting Rafe to have anything else to say. Ward tilts the end of his fork toward Rafe, “Okay, what is it?” “I have a daughter. Her name is Stella. She is three years old, almost four. And she looks exactly like me,” Rafe gets everything out in one go. He may have known about Stella for a month now, but he didn’t want to tell his family until he knew he could step up and be the person his daughter needed. This causes everyone at the table to freeze and look at Rafe in surprise. Ward’s eyes narrow; his brows become one. “What do you mean?” he gets out in a rough tone. 
“I mean that five years ago, I had sex with Y/N and she had a baby nine months after that. I didn’t know about Stella until last month. I didn’t want to tell you guys until I was a month sober and certain that I could be there for her.”
“You better tell me that this is a joke because I can’t believe that you could be that much of a screw-up. How do you even know she is your daughter?”
“I told you, she looks exactly like me.”
“How do you know that’s not because you want to believe she does? How do you know that bitch isn’t lying to you? You were so useless that you didn’t even get a paternity.” 
Rafe stands up at what Ward calls Y/N and points a finger at his father. “You have no right to call her that. I know she isn’t lying because I trust her. I won’t make her get a paternity test,” he yells. Ward lets out a low chuckle, “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to need you to get a lawyer and write up a contract for child support if that’s what the bitch is after. There is no way you are actually going to raise that kid.” “You need to stop calling the mother of your granddaughter a bitch. And why can’t I raise my daughter? You are always telling me I need to take responsibility and I am. Why can’t you just be proud of me?” he argues, his anger getting to a whole other level. The other members of the dinner see that this fight is not about to end any time soon, so Sarah steps in. “Dad, stop. This isn’t going anywhere. And you should be proud of Rafe. He overcame his addiction just so that he could be a better father. That’s amazing and I’m proud of him for that. I, for one, am excited to meet my niece,” Sarah reasons. Wheezie butts in too, “I want to meet Stella too.” Rafe gives them a thankful smile but gets up angrily.  
“Thank you guys for your support. I’ll talk to Y/N to find out when you can meet Stells. Dad, I wish I could say that I am surprised but I’m not,” he begins. “No matter what I do, I will never compare to Sarah and I won’t force you to meet your granddaughter. I think I’m going to go. Goodbye.” Rafe storms out of the house and slams the door. He gets to his truck and is about to drive away, yet he knows he shouldn’t. If he goes now, he is scared it will lead him to Barry’s. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials a number that recently entered his contacts. “Hey, Button. Is everything okay?” Her voice is like a light guiding him back to home base. He vehemently shakes his head, “No, I’m not. Do you have time to talk?” Y/N immediately stops what she is doing and gives him her full attention for the whole night. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer
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hsr-texts · 9 months
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find your cinderella
꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ prologue
꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱
꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱
꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.4k ꒱
꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱
꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊HIII omg you guys THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!! Getting 1k followers is so crazy for me because I've never had a blog be received with this much love and support before so I've decided to make an extra special otome game style fanfic! ꒱
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“Guys, look! The package just came in!”
You rushed into your studio, holding a sizable metal box. Inscribed on the sides was a logo of two masks, resembling a certain Aeon. Placing it down on the floor, you gave a sigh of relief. “Aeons, that was heavy!”
Your eyes glanced at the live chat and saw all the messages, curious about the package.
“Seems like you guys are more excited than I am,” You couldn’t help a small chuckle leaving your lips. “It took me quite a lot to get a hold of this limited edition package from LumiPro. Like, do you guys know how much it cost?”
A few comments popped up trying to guess the price.
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You shook your head. “100,000 credits.”
The chat then flooded with shocked emotes and comments. It was more than a fair reaction. You found yourself silently thanking the stars that your current occupation as a streamer granted you a steady income. Otherwise, you probably would’ve had to eat the same type of cup noodles for months.
“Anyway!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s open it up already! I’m dying to see what’s inside. What could possibly warrant such a steep price?”
Your index finger pressed on the button at the top and heard a voice.
“Vocal identification. Please state your name.”
You uttered your name. It was a good thing you added an auto-censor to your setup so that any sensitive information that could get you doxxed would be redacted in the stream. You didn’t want stalkers showing up at your home after all.
“Permission granted.”
Faint clicks of metal against metal could be heard as the mechanisms worked to unlock the box. A hissing noise came from it as the lid opened. You watched, feeling anticipation and eagerness bubble within your chest.
A hologram was projected from the box, showing a person wearing professional attire. They smiled.
“Thank you for purchasing from Luminous Productions. We’ve curated a package that we believe would be of most use to you. For further questions, you may contact support on our site. We hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”
You took a peek and gasped at the sight. “Guys, oh my god, they just gave me a new PC!”
They must’ve done their research because you did mention in your stream a month ago that you were looking for a better PC.
The chat seemed to be as excited as you were, knowing this meant you’d be able to go back to your regular streaming schedule.
You could tell this was a real high end PC after seeing the graphics card and CPU model. Not only that, but it came with a new headset, keyboard, and mouse. You took out the stuff and gently placed them on the floor, letting the viewers see it.
After noticing that there was more in the package, you rummaged around for the other objects. Your hand made contact with some sort of fabric so you pulled it out.
Your eyes widened as you realised that it was a fancy outfit. Upon looking, you could estimate that it was your size too. Was this tailor made?
“Holy shit…”
It seemed like it was for a real special occasion, not even just your run-of-the-mill party that regular people go to. This outfit would probably fit right in with a red carpet event for rich folks or celebrities. Well— One may say, “Hey, aren’t you a celebrity too?” but you weren’t cocky enough to claim the same status as those with inter-galactic levels of fame.
A slip of paper fell out of the outfit’s pocket and you turned to see what it was.
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You squinted in confusion. A ticket…? After picking up, you couldn’t help but notice the holographic shine to it first. How pretty.
“Find Your Cinderella Masquerade Event?” You mumbled in confusion. Who was Sugo? You couldn’t recall knowing anyone that went by that name.
Suddenly, the screen flickered for a moment and a new window popped up next to your stream.
A person showed up, wearing what you could only describe as a pink clown outfit that somehow combines cuteness and gaudiness in one. They grinned at you with amusement.
“Heya to all those viewers watching at home!” Even the way they spoke seemed to have a theatrical ring to it. By the way the chat was going insane, the people watching the stream could also see them.
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“My name is Sugo and I’m the event organiser of the Find Your Cinderella Gala, or the FYC Gala for short,” they introduced themselves with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Uh… hi?” You didn’t know how to respond. This was quite a bizarre experience to have someone hijack your stream to introduce themselves. Was this legal…?
They chuckled. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden appearance but I figured that it would shake things up a little. I’m sure your dear fans appreciate having two exciting things happening at the same time. You can bet that this’ll go viral too~”
“Right… So what exactly is this Find Your Cinderella Gala?”
“Glad you asked, dear anomaly!” They beamed. Eh? Why were they calling you anomaly?
“See, I’m doing a collaborative project with LumiPro. I proposed to them a large-scale event with celebrities from all over the galaxy, which would be broadcast to every streaming platform out there. The premise is simple, all attendees are there to find their one and only, their true love, their Cinderella, you get the idea.”
“So it’s a speed dating event for rich people?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It sounded like a stupid idea. And yet, a part of you was intrigued.
“Right on the money! What a clever streamer, it’s no wonder you got such high compatibility ratings with the other attendees~”
“A what?”
Their eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, we didn’t just pick the celebrities at random. I bet you’re wondering why a small time streamer is getting an invite to such an exclusive event, right?” They tilted their head, leaning on their desk.
You nodded slowly. It was still a mystery to you why you’d be invited when there are far more famous people in the galaxy.
“Behind the scenes, we’ve been developing an advanced algorithm that can find your best match in a group. How it works is that we pick a participant, feed it available information on said participant, then it calculates how well the person would get along with those within the group,” they explained, “What’s interesting for your case is that your average compatibility score with the group is 90%. Most folks that got tested only came up with a 60% average compatibility rating.”
You raised an eyebrow at this in skepticism. “Don’t you think that’s just a bug or something?”
They shrugged. “It could be, but we’ve done several tests and it always came out the same. We were hoping to add you in to act as an outlier to our pool of data.”
“So I’m just a guinea pig for your weird little experiment?” You gave them an unamused look.
“It’s just to see if your results were really true or if it was just a mistake on the algorithm’s part.” They shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun time for you regardless of my motives. A win win for all parties involved, don’t you just love that kind of thing?”
“I guess but doesn’t this come with strings attached?”
Sugo whined. “Ughhh, you’re gonna make this way less fun if you go in already knowing what you’re getting!”
“What kind of sane person would do something without knowing the full details?!”
A groan came from them. “Booo, that’s so boring! Life needs a special surprise factor that keeps things fun and interesting.”
They sighed after. “But fine. If you’re so skeptical, then I can throw in a 500,000 credit compensation if you end up not enjoying it. So even if you do lose, you still gain something!”
You stayed silent, trying to figure out if this was really worth the trouble of dressing up and going to a party.
“Anyway, that’s all the information I’m contractually allowed to give out. It’s your choice whether you want to go or not.”
“Can I have some time to decide this?” You asked them.
Sugo nodded, smiling in amusement. “Of course! It’s not good for a show to spend too much time on exposition, after all. Let’s give the player some time to shine, hm?”
“I have no idea what you’re saying.”
They giggled, ignoring what you said. “Bye bye! I’ll see you at the gala!”
Their window disappeared, leaving you with your viewers again.
You sighed. What a strange person. Did you really wanna go? It’s not like you had much to lose. Plus, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to find out what that compatibility rating was all about.
“What do you think, chat? Should I go?” You turned to the screen, waiting for their input.
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tojivu · 1 year
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PICK YOU UP AT 8.
a/n hahah Hi
warnings/tags dates with genshin men. gn!reader. includes zhongli diluc childe xiao thoma. a little favouritism in childe LOL sorry. petname ‘baby’ used in childe’s. mentions of wearing a dress in xiao’s.
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ZHONGLI never lets the romance die. you’ve been together for a while now, and he has never disappointed you in that time. candles, picking you up in his car, getting out of it and opening the door for you—dates with your boyfriend are truly the highlight of the week. due to his busy schedule at the funeral parlour, he often leaves you alone in the wee hours of the night; but he never lets you go a week without a date where it’s just the two of you. he values you greatly and it shows in the way he puts so much effort into these special nights, and he’d often ask you how you liked it afterwards (if there need be improvement, though rare).
“hello, dear. ready to go?” he’s walking you to his car, your arm around his—and you nod.
you wonder where he’s taking you this time, since it was his turn to pick this week; but you don’t really care. anywhere with zhongli is fine with you, even if it was a junkyard and you two spent the night eating chips & watching the stars.
he ends up taking you to a fancy restaurant in the city, in a high rise building—he pulls the chair back for you, and you’re speechless at the view. the city lights were bright, and you could see cars commuting multiple floors below. it overlooked many of the other buildings, but what caught your attention the most was the night sky.
“the view is so.. stunning, zhongli—how did you get a spot here?”
“anything for a beautiful view, y/n.”
you notice he’s not even looking outside, but instead staring right at you. you don’t know why, or maybe you do and you’re just shy: but something’s telling you that it’s not the city view he’s talking about.
DILUC never understood the appeal of date nights before you came along. he thought they were pointless, spending money to do something outside the comfort of your own home seemed like just that. it was only until you expressed your need for quality time that he finally gave it a try. having a busy schedule, he wasn’t sure when to take you out—but when he finally did find an opportunity, he found himself enjoying it much more than he thought he would. ever since then, he’s been picking you up from work at least once a week and taking you out to somewhere new; diluc’s never one to disappoint.
work ended late into the afternoon and you were starving. your coworkers waved you goodbye as they entered their taxis home, and you were just about to book a ride too—but a few seconds later, you see a familiar white car stop in front of you.
the window rolls down, and you see your boyfriend in the driver’s seat. what an extravagant entrance, you think, and you find yourself snickering at him.
“what’s so funny?” he asks, blank and deadpan expression worn.
“nothing. where are we going now?”
“you ask this every single time; you wouldn’t know.”
“i thought so.” you smile. it’s amazing, how someone could know so many places. at least now, you’ll have more places than just your shared apartment to make memories in.
you get in the car, and you both drive off.
CHILDE plans the most obnoxious, extravagant dates. he knows that you think it’s cringe, but he loves seeing the embarrassment on your face when he appears at your doorstep in his finest suit with the most colourful flowers, a sign in his left hand saying “will you go on a date with me?”. you could say it’s not surprising, a man of his nature doing such things—yet it’s sweet, not more sweet than cringeworthy, but still sweet nontheless. you were the lowkey, stay at home with pizza and binge movies type: after all, that was what your ex boyfriends had given you—but it’s childe, so you can always expect something more.
it’s a rainy friday night and childe hasn’t texted you. you’re sure he’s up to one of his stupid antics again, but a part of you thinks he’s probably swamped with work and can’t text you. it disappoints you a little, but it can’t be helped anyway. there’s always next week.
just then, your doorbell tune plays. you get up from bed, excited, but then you remember you ordered food an hour ago. could be the delivery guy, childe wouldn’t just appear at your door during a thunderstorm without telling you he’ll be late, right?
but you open the door and see him, drenched from head to toe, holding a bouqet of flowers (that were also wet). “i’m so sorry baby, i got caught in the rain while buying these.” he explains, using his free hand to move the hair away from his face.
it’s safe to say you two didn’t have the expected date that night. but he’s here, in your home, snuggled up next to you—he’s warm from the shower you told him to take, so you don’t really care; a break from the glam once in a while isn’t a bad thing.
XIAO is never late. he plans down to the minute, every detail in his mind—it always goes according to his plans whenever you two are out. usually, it’s always him who handles the where, when and how. you were never the type to plan ahead, often throwing yourself out there and seeing where it took you—and always the one following others plans and agreeing with everything. it was a friday night and you’ve gotten sick of the restaurants; you’ve sworn that you visited one of them at least more than 5 times in a month already.
you’re tempted to ask xiao to change it up a little, but it’s last minute—you’re getting ready and he’s on the way. you’re sure he would get mad, who wouldn’t? he’s booked a reservation, he’s wearing his nicest suit and you’re in your prettiest dress, it’d be a bit rude; but you’re sick of the monotony, work has got your legs sore and there’s nothing you want more than to lay in bed with your boyfriend.
xiao shows up at your door, and you hesitantly speak up before he takes your hand. “can we just stay in tonight?”
“tired today?” he smiles, expression soft and understanding—and you’re immediately relieved.
the night definitely did not go as xiao envisioned, but it’s okay—he’s with you, still, and that’s all he needs to check off his list.
THOMA grimaces at the thought of sitting across his lover, eating and just talking. that is the most boring thing ever, he would say; and that’s not because he doesn’t enjoy conversation with you, it’s mostly because there isn’t an opportunity for him to see you laugh or smile until your cheeks hurt at a dinner table. you won’t see anything funny at a fancy restaurant that would make you burst out laughing—and thoma loves that most about you, how your voice jumps an octave when you’re laughing and smiling, how your eyes sparkle most in those moments, or how you clutch your stomach when it’s too much to bear. there’s no fun in it, he would tell you time and time again.
due to this, it was clear what he needed to do. rule number 1, no dinner dates at fancy 5 star restaurants (unless you’re really craving a good steak). the weekend arrives swiftly, and you know your boyfriend is going to surprise you with a new adventure. this time, it’s going hiking and ziplining.
“oh, but we’ll be going together!” he responds, all cheery when you tell him you’re not a big fan of heights.
“that doesn’t make it any better.”
“are you sure? we could hold hands—“ thoma adds on, clearly convinced this was the most romantic thing to do with your lover.
“we are going to a restaurant after this. and i’m going to talk the entire time.”
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140323 — omg this was shpposed to go up 2 months ago but i got swept up in so much :,, anyways not proof read as always don’t comment anything mean or else it’s another hiatus ok bye
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ravixen · 9 months
Note
hello! i just read you svt forgetting about date thread and its so good! Would like to request for the remaining members reactions if possible 🥹 thank you!!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
svt + forgetting your date (pt 3)
➔ reaction || requested
➔ warnings: none || 0.9k words ➔ notes: general, fluff ; yep! excited to get this series completed and out of the way. if you liked the reactions, please reblog :) for any new followers, please make sure to read my pinned post.
SEUNGCHEOL: he often jokes that money can solve the world's biggest problems, and for the most part, it's true...when the problem is jeonghan's desire for fancy items. but when the problem is him not showing up to a date that he planned? he doesn't think expensive gifts will placate you, especially when he wakes up to missed calls and text messages that quickly go from confused to annoyed. he's in the middle of typing an excuse when you call one more time, and he answers with a sheepish laugh of your name. "um, I can be on the way in like 10, 15 minutes? it doesn't take me long to get ready." he's already rolling out of bed and pulling clothes out of the closet, but you sigh into the phone and that stops him in his tracks. "we've already missed the train," you say, and with a start, he realizes just how late he is. "even if you somehow make it here within the hour and we catch the next one, the lines will probably be too long. wouldn't be worth it." oh, this sucks. he's the one who got you all excited about a first-come, first-serve festival a few hours away, and he didn't deliver. "let's get breakfast and come up with a new plan then. we can't go there, but we have all day to do whatever you want."
SOONYOUNG: his ambition, an attractive trait on its own, comes with the tendency to over-estimate his capabilities. for example: when he got drunk during lee youngji's show and immediately headed to practice after. at the time, you watched the video of his tipsy dancing with an amused smile. his work ethic was admirable...and kind of funny in a way. now? you don't think it's very funny at all. you tap your foot as you stare at your text thread, where two hours ago he said that work was wrapping up and that he had time to freshen up before coming to your date. well, he's late. right when you were about to text him for an update, he calls you. "hey!" there's a muffled crash and a mumbled swear before his voice is back. "I'm so, so sorry. the shoot ended, but they asked for a short interview and I thought we had time. and we did! but I think I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm and—" he huffs, zipping something up. "I can make it there in twenty minutes!" you check the time, frowning. "with traffic, it's probably closer to half an hour. why don't we re-schedule, soonyoung? I'll just go home." "no, but you cleared your schedule for today! why don't we meet up somewhere halfway, hm? I want to see you at least."
WONWOO: he's a runner (he's a track star), and he uses those long legs to book it down the street, trying his best to ignore the judgmental glances of passing strangers. faintly, he can make out your figure in front of the restaurant, your phone in hand as you scroll. when he skids to a stop in front of you, you don't look impressed, but that's better than looking angry, he supposes. he doubles over with his hands on his knees, taking gasping breaths and spitting out excuses for his lateness. the only thing you say in return is, "they gave up our dinner reservation," which makes his heart sink because you made the reservation months ago. with how popular it is, he had to bring out the celebrity card, and even then, he barely got on the list. "do you want to try the place across the street?" he offers his hand and a weak smile that you only glance at. "and spend the entire time knowing that we could've been over here instead? no, thanks." you show him your screen. "let's go here." it's closer to the apartment, thus in the direction he just came from, but he'd take driving back over you giving him the cold shoulder all night.
JIHOON: "you stood me up," you say when he finally picks up the phone. and then you laugh and tell him that it's not a big deal—it's just a maplestory date, after all—but he hears the disappointment in your voice and he knows that it was more than simply meeting up in a silly video game. it was about making time for each other for the first time in forever, about being on call for as long as you can, about laughing as you watch him fall off the platform for the nth time in a row. it was about the fact that he made a promise and broke it for such a stupid reason. he looks at the time. "when are you planning to sleep?" he asks, already opening the game launcher and sliding on his headphones. "I don't have anything tomorrow. why?" he hums. "let's go farm those rare items you wanted." it must've been the right thing to say because you gasp, "really? it's going to be such a waste of time, though...are you sure?" of course he's sure. being with you, regardless of what you're doing, is rarely a waste of time. plus you were venting the other day about how no one wanted to help you farm. "load up. I'm waiting."
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denimbex1986 · 5 months
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'...Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?
“I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.
Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”
How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?
“Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!
Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”
What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?
“This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”
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Part 2: Adam
This is part of my first series! If you missed the first part, please feel free to enjoy Part 1: Kellen before you continue on with Adam. In terms of content, this is rather new territory. There is a bit of violent content, bullying, slurs. This is likely to be the only part of this series with that kind of content.
Kellen knew about Adam long before he found himself in academic turmoil. The poor kid was the perfect punching bag. Kellen took pride in the fact that this kid skirted the perimeter of any campus space where he saw any jocks. Unfortunately Adam couldn't avoid Kellen when they lived on the same floor of the residence halls. Even when he'd change schedules or leave out the fire escape stairs instead of the main entrance, Kellen would still manage to find him and insult him, shove him, dump out his backpack, throw him in a trash can—basically everything besides throwing outright punches.
Adam came to the bottom of the fire stairs and found his path blocked by Kellen. All he could do was freeze—his fight or flight reflexes worn down to nothing but paralysis.
"Hey nerd, I need something, and you're gonna do it for me."
Adam continued to quake, unable to muster any further reaction.
Kellen smiles. "Glad to see you won't object. I have a paper due tomorrow in my history class. You're gonna do it for me. Here's the rubric," he balls it up and throws the paper in Adam's face. "I'd better get a good grade."
Kellen punched his fist into his other hand to emphasize his point. "See you tomorrow with the essay, right dweeb?"
"Uh... yes." Adam barely manages to get out. He knew the only way to get out of this was giving in and playing along.
"Just yes? I thought I'd taught you respect by now." Kellen took a menacing step closer.
"Yes, sir." Adam looked down as he said it, hoping it would be enough to appease the menace. He waited for Kellen to say more, but he just laughed and walked away. Adam collapsed on the landing. He'd be late for class again but he needed a few minutes for the fear to leave him.
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A week later, Adam is loosing sleep. He already maxed out his workload on his own school schedule and now he had another one—well, it wasn't quite as rigorous as his own work but it was demanding, demeaning, and had to always take priority or... well he didn't wanna find out.
Two weeks later Adam is deep into mid-terms. He barely sleeps, his anxiety has risen steadily, and he was starting to slip on his own workload. His roommate Ben is a nerd like him with ambitions to be valedictorian and president of the student senate, etc.—a much more high-profile brainiac. His campus-wide notariety is probably why he never manages to face the wrath of the school's star jock. Ben sees Adam's mental health slipping and tries to check in on his roommate, but he evades. After a few times, Ben gets more insistent and manages to get the truth out of him.
"But that breaks so many rules. You've gotta turn him in."
"You don't understand, Ben. I don't know what he'd do to me and... it's terrifying." Adam breaks down crying for the third time in the course of the conversation.
"Then I can," Ben volunteers, "and he won't take it out on you."
"You're my roommate. He'd still make me pay for it."
"Then we could—"
Adam shuts down his roommate. "Don't do anything. Please, don't do anything. I can't risk it. There's nothing either of us can do that doesn't result in me facing consequences."
Ben, still visibly not over it, decides to let it go. He leaves for the library so Adam can have the room to himself.
Working late into the night and the early morning, Adam gets all the work done but the conversation with his roommate still weighs on him. It's cheesy, but he even looks out his window at a particularly bright star and wishes he could do something about Kellen, wishes there was some way out. But that was never going to work.
Ben returned at a rather late hour—2:30 am—but Adam was still awake even after his room mate returned and went to bed. He finished up around 4:30am and went to get even just a few hours of sleep.
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The next day brought sun and warmth. Adam had no time to take it in or enjoy it as he sent the daily batch of assignments to Kellen that morning before breakfast. The jock would send him a message through Snapchat—since nothing was saved there—telling Adam where to meet, or from time to time, where to drop the assignments. He fell asleep in both his morning classes, one of which was review for the midterm test coming up later in the week. Adam was so defeated and exhausted that he didn't even bother with lunch, choosing instead to head back to his dorm for a nap. He hoped that would help him get through the test he had at 2:30.
Ben returned shortly after. He barged into the room expecting to find it empty and found Adam just drifting off.
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be here." Ben said from the doorway.
"Yeah, I just needed a nap. Hopefully I don't get too hungry in my afternoon classes."
Ben clearly wanted to say more. Adam was sure that his roommate was still holding back his urge to do something for him with his Kellen problems, but Adam was grateful Ben decided against bringing anything up. After mulling it over for a moment, Ben settles for a different approach: "I'm getting lunch, but I can bring you something before your next class."
Adam was so tired he could cry and the simple showing of kindness. "That would be great. Maybe a burger?"
Before exiting, Ben left Adam with an obviously coded statement of support. "Adam, you know I would do anything in my power to help you right now." But ultimately Ben seemed to respect Adam's requests to stay out of things with Kellen and ducked out without pushing the matter further.
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Adam woke up an hour later feeling quite refreshed. He looked over at his desk and saw Ben had returned at some point with a salad. Adam sat up and looked out the window, taking in the nice weather for the first time. He had a half an hour to kill with some last-minute studying and then he had to pick up some assignments from Kellen before his test.
He sits at his desk, eats the salad, then opens his textbook and class notes... but despite feeling renewed by his nap, the words on the page still danced around like he was tired and he couldn't settle in. He must still need more sleep... or he must want to feel the sunshine before his class. It was just so nice out—of course he was distracted. Maybe he'd benefit more today by "touching grass" instead of cramming—after all, mental health was just as important as studying.
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At 2:05, Kellen was ready to shove Adam against a wall. At 2:10, he was ready to throw punches at the little punk. This dweeb was always way too afraid of him to ever show up late, but today Kellen knew he'd have to teach a more impactful lesson since respect had clearly not yet sunk into the mind of this geek. He messaged Adam over Snapchat:
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!
After progressively more threatning messages, he finally gets a response—accompanied for the first time by a photo from Adam.
It was a nice day out Thought I'd go out for a run
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Something was seriously off. Since when was Adam a runner? Since when did he take selfies, or wear tank tops. Hell, did he have all that muscle tone before hidden under his conservative clothes, or was that somehow new? Now Kellen was as confused as he was angry.
YOU NEED TO GET HERE NOW!!!
Another response, and another picture from Adam:
oh hehe i totally forgot i can be so dumb sometimes i'll run over to you quick, ive already worked up a sweat i can't wait to see you😜
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Kellen was dumbfounded, though not as dumb as the new Adam seemed to be. He was suddenly some homo. This was either an elaborate prank or something fucked up was going on here. Before he could process further, Kellen receives another message:
see u soon daddy
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Kellen stared in shock. This was a prank for sure, but he wasn't going to stick around for part 2. Instead, he was going to teach this geeky fucker a lesson tonight—and whoever else helped him with this. No one humiliates and defies him and gets away with it.
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Despite his fury, Kellen was kinda impressed with the depth of the prank. This fake Adam had set up social media accounts. That last selfie he sent Kellen was even cross-posted on all his socials in their stories and somehow there were bots set up so the pages had thousands of followers and the posts had hundreds of likes and comments. This imposter even looked more muscular than before—probably yet another fake in on the scheme.
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Even so, Adam's fate was sealed. Kellen waited until after dinner. He knew the nerd would be studying. After 7pm, he stormed down the short hallway to the geekling's door and pounded on it.
"Open up. You know who it is, so you'd better not ignore me."
The door opened and in a split second Kellen was inside with the person at the door shoved up against the wall, hitting the brick hard.
"Ungh." he moaned.
Kellen had acted so quickly he hadn't taken stock of who had answered his knock. The sexual moan broke his blind rage in an instant and he registered who he had in front of him. He only had a brief moment to register the blonde from the social media pages before he responded.
"Oh, Daddy, that felt so good. I was waiting for you all day."
Kellen is struck by a wave of repulsion. Was he turning this little twink on? He goes to push the imposter harder against the wall, but the homo looks him dead in the eye, bites his lip, and grabs Kellen's dick. He's immediately hard. His rage mixes with his horniness and his desires become carnal. Kellen whirls the little slut around and pulls out his thick cock. Adam is ready, as usual, wearing nothing but a jock strap allowing for immediate access. He thrusts inside his submissive twink and roughs him up as Adam moans louder and louder. At this point the hall was used to it since it happened at least once a night.
Kellen has had such troubles keeping his grades up since receiving a warning from financial aid threatening to kick him out. He's still on the search for a nerd to do his homework, but at least he found Adam. Adam could take anything from Sir as long as Sir didn't leave a mark. Adam made sure he set his boundaries, after all, they both should know respect always goes both ways.
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kastlequill · 6 months
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ii/v. unearth without a name: the world that hardens as the harsher winter holds
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pairing: keegan p russ x f!reader word count: 1.8k synopsis: the second time you hallucinate keegan tags: whumptober, psychological warfare, blood and injury, brainwashing, hallucinations, hurt no comfort, established relationship, ghost!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: canon-typical violence, torture, non-consensual drug use ao3: read here ← prev | next →
II.
A semblance of a regimented schedule formed shortly after those first couple of days.
Two goons would begin the cycle with a visit, using you as a human punching bag until your ribs burned and your frayed nerves went numb. Then came the waterboarding and the breaking of bone, be it a rib or a finger. Last, but certainly not least, Rorke would work on molding your mind into something foreign, though whatever drug he’d administered on Day 1 hadn’t made a reappearance yet.
Yet.
You didn’t have it in you to treasure that simple blessing because your captors were constantly swapping one torture method for another, determined to keep you guessing. Recently, they’d started to get more creative; extreme sensory deprivation was still a favorite of theirs, but they had now added physically-intensive beatings into the mix.
Time elapsed strangely in this hellscape. With no sun to denote mornings and no moon to introduce nights, you had to measure its passage in terms of the damage inflicted upon you. Which was to say, what marked the beginning of a day wasn’t the sunrise; instead, it was the piece of stale bread that you received only after your captors made you beg like a dog.
And to determine when you’d reached the end of another day having survived, it was Rorke, not the setting sun nor the rising stars, who served as a useful metric. Night began in the moments following his departure from the chamber once he’d satiated his raging appetite for sadism, leaving you to succumb to your injuries and fall unconscious.
Eventually, those unfulfilling few hours of sleep would be interrupted by the force of the tossed bread hitting your head. Like clockwork, this cursed routine repeated again and again, though you couldn’t discern whether or not these recurring events were consistently scheduled at a specific hour. It would come as no surprise if they’d been staggered to hinder you from adapting to your new normal.
Such was the way of the Federation.
Regardless of the truth, according to your unconventional form of tracking time, nightfall was nearly upon you. Rorke had been here for what seemed like an eternity, putting forth a valiant effort in beating you into submission and breaking your will.
You just had to bear this pain a little while longer. Then, you could allow your body to recuperate through a bout of fitful slumber.
“Still got some fight left in you, eh?” Rorke wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Hands that had spent the last however many weeks tenderizing your flesh and splintering your bones. “First, let me express my gratitude. I appreciate you makin’ this fun for an old man.”
You wanted nothing more than to kill him slow, to watch the crazed gleam fade from his deadened eyes, but you’d decided on Day 2 not to engage him beyond what was strictly necessary. If you managed to keep the talking to a minimum, then perhaps Rorke wouldn’t linger for too long. A flawed logic built on desperation.
It worked on occasion, boredom striking him sooner rather than later, ending the interrogation session without much fanfare. Though that wasn’t always the case.
The man was a loose cannon. He lashed out on a whim then switched up before you could process what he’d originally done. Even his co-conspirators avoided being caught in his blast radius, but no such hope existed for you, the prisoner who still breathed only because he willed it.
“Now, with that out of the way—”
An uppercut collided against your chin, sending you reeling, doubling over, stretching the muscles in your arms as the ropes that dangled you from the ceiling strained under the pressure. The impact rattled your teeth, and the metallic taste of blood doused your bitten tongue.
The bastard possessed an absurd amount of power for his age. And you, half-starved and broken in one too many places, were the lucky recipient of said power.
“What are the Ghosts plannin’ to do near the Gulf?” He forced your gaze to meet his, yanking your head backward by the roots of your hair. Resolute in your fatal desire to safeguard your comrades to the best of your abilities, your mouth stayed stubbornly shut.
If you couldn’t be of use out there by their side on a battlefield, the least you could do was stop the enemy from obtaining crucial intel. You couldn’t give the Feds the upper hand, not when that ran the risk of landing Merrick, Hesh, Logan, Keegan in some shallow grave.
Rorke sneered. “So that’s the kinda game you want to play? Alright, little martyr, keep your secrets. But listen up, and listen good: when I find all ‘em out, because I will find out, you’ll wish you hadn’t been so blindly loyal to those damn mutts. Better hope you’ve still got most of your fingers when that day comes ‘round.”
The grip on your hair relinquished, and your head dipped low, too fatigued to support its weight on your own. You were content to stay like that, crumpled and weak, but the sound of rustling fabric bid you to remain present and raise your lidded gaze.
Your stomach dropped at the sight of Rorke pulling out a syringe from a pocket on his tactical vest.
“Remember this?” Its needle glistened menacingly in the dull lamplight. The man must have seen the brief panic that flitted across your face because he gave a wry chuckle. “Hell, of course y’do. No need for a reintroduction, then.”
Without further delay, Rorke jabbed the syringe into a bulging vein in your neck, dehydration making it appear more prominent than usual. Your fear spiked as he injected its contents into your already-fragile system. Compared to the previous dose, you began to experience the drug’s effects much faster, blood suddenly afire, choking on hurried gasps, jaw locked. It held your body hostage while it hijacked your biological milieu and scrambled your brain.
The bombardment on your five senses was so overwhelming that you had to close your eyes, the surrounding visual stimuli too abrasive to withstand in your compromised state. When you did finally blink them open again, the scene that greeted you was of a different man, a man whose presence you greatly welcomed.
Decked out in full gear and face lathered in greasepaint wherever his mask failed to conceal skin, Keegan stood several paces behind Rorke. Arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart, cold stare devoid of any affection but flowing with disappointment. Before, he’d spoken everything you had never wanted to hear; this time, however, the apparition uttered not a single syllable.
A flash of white heat diffused throughout your body from head to toe as rage superseded pain.
Did he really think you were a failure, a disgrace? Was that why he opted to hold his tongue, finding you unworthy, an utter waste of his breath?
You recalled the days when he had barely spared you a glance beyond ensuring you weren’t falling behind. When he had gradually begun to reference you as an irreplaceable part of their established collective; when eliciting a low chuckle from him had been considered a victory and earning his praise had become something of an addiction. When he had listened to your whispered confession then offered up a weakness of his own; when he had agreed to learn bit by bit how to give you his heart and how to take yours in turn.
Looking back, the two of you had come so far. And yet, the fruits of your labor would go uneaten. You weren’t foolish enough to assume survival was still a possibility after a few more rounds of torture; if your mind didn’t break first, then your body would surely shut down.
Two good months. That was all you had gotten with him as a lover.
Just two months.
Another punch to your liver yanked you from your spiraling thoughts. “You ready to talk? No? Suit yourself.”
The onslaught resumed, ripping old wounds anew, further bruising already-sore skin, weakening calcium-deficient bones. Truth be told, you’d been ready to talk for the past eight cycles of this shit, but loyalty prevented you from squealing like a pig. Regretfully, this very same loyalty was beginning to feel misplaced.
Were they even searching for you? Was he? Had your comrades so easily written you off as KIA, unable to justify expending valuable, scarce resources on a mere stray?
Sure, Keegan’s last visit had been cruel, biting, but at least he had acknowledged your existence, your situation. The exchange, though agonizing, had reinvigorated you with purpose and determination to make it out of this hellhole alive. Now, if this fabricated Keegan would only address you, then the cracks in your composure and willpower could be rectified, bestowing upon you the strength to persevere, to suffer in silence until either your rescue or your death.
If he would only speak to you as a human being separate from this current timeline of misery and monsters among men, then maybe you had a real chance here. Maybe, you would again bask in the warmth of a glorious sunrise.
Say something.
He didn’t, of course. It shouldn’t have surprised you; he had never been the type to fill the quiet with nonsensical chatter. But you needed this, as starved of him as you were of food and water. You’d wait three seconds for him to correct himself, or else you would give him a piece of your mind, a proper tongue-lashing, scratchy throat and raw vocal cords be damned.
A well-aimed kick in the calf triggered a mental countdown.
Three. . .
Continuous heavy blows struck your temple, the resulting craters spouting a stream of blood, its damage producing a shrill ringing in your ears.
Two . . .
Forgetting the sound of his voice, struggling to replicate the unhurried yet impassioned cadence with which he spoke, gone was his deep tenor—
One.
“God, make it stop,” were the words that left your cracked, chapped lips. But there was no God to answer your pleas; not down here. Still, you begged. “Please, just make it fucking stop.”
Keegan said nothing, content to continue his silent appraisal of the scene before him. Scrutinizing your weaknesses, judging how much more damage you could endure before your total destruction. A sentinel, a voyeur of your rawest pain.
Rorke, looming above like impending doom, a deadly omen, simply laughed and laughed.
And in that moment, you couldn’t decide which of the two men you hated more.
tbc.
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redheadspark · 4 months
Note
Joseph Quinn 11
A/N - I love this! Thanks for requesting this, friend!
On The Line
Summary - Being Joe's oldest friend also means you have to wonder if it's just a friendship.
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Warnings - Just some fluff :)
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“You look cute when you blush, you know that?”
Your friend and secret crush, actor Joe Quinn, looked up from his phone as you grinned next to him in your chair.  The flushness on his cheeks was evident, along with his big brown eyes that were locked with yours.  You giggled, noting how you almost caught him in an act when he was merely scrolling through his phone.  
“I wasn’t blushing!  It was…hot out,” he explained as you chuckled and pointed out the window behind the pair of you.
“It is literally snowing outside as we speak, are you joking?” You asked, Joe looking out the window to see the fat snowflake hitting the wall and cascading down to the ground.  He looked back at you with a raised brow.
“Well, it was warm in my car when I came here, so back off,” he replied lightly, you laughing at his antics.  You leaned over to brush your shoulder with his own, again getting his attention as you spoke, “So…anyone in your love life that I should know about?”
“Not at all,” He smoothly replied, but you could hear the undone of his voice that he was fully not telling the truth.  Of course, he wouldn’t tell you about his crush, much to your dismay since you were trying to figure out your feelings for your friend.  For how many years you two have known each other, long before Joseph became popular as an actor thanks to Stranger Things.  You and Jose grew up together in school, being good friends and hanging onto the friendship through thick and thin.  But of course, there were always times when you thought the line of friendship would blur into romance.  Joe was a great guy, not a bad bone in his body with a shocked sense of humor and a humbled nature about his career and where he wanted to go.  
He never pushed you away when his career was taking off, though some of his other friendships blew off in the wind.  Joe held onto yours tight, talking to you constantly on the phone and hanging out together when he had downtime.  You knew he was busy as hell, much more so when Stranger Things made him into a sensation.  He would call you to either chat up, vent or simply grow deeper in your friendship together.  And of course, being the great friend that you were, you would pick up the phone every time.  Grabbing dinner with him when he needed an escape, joining him on a quick weekend getaway when he needed to decompress from his stressful schedule.
You were simply being a friend, but the blogs and gossip columns were thinking otherwise. 
Most of what they were saying was in fact false and harsh, not to mention the pictures the paparazzi would take when you two were out and about together. It was hard to read at times and simply nearly impossible to swallow down, and no matter how many times Joe would reassure you that they never bothered him, it did to you.  Maybe because you were still in denial about your feelings for him, never seeing it as a possibility in the future of your two being an item together.  Plus you’ve only heard horror stories of people dating actors and stars, most of the relationships burning to the ground and not lasting longer than a few months.  The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardize the friendship you two have had for over a decade.  
But how long were you going to be in denial?
“Alright, if you don’t feel like telling me then, and here I thought we were close…” You replied in a light tease as Joe chuckled and chucked his phone on the couch.  He eyed him, seeing you give him the mocked cold shoulder.
“We are, trust me.  You’re one of the closest friends I have,” he rescued you, pausing for a brief moment before he spoke again, “I’d rather iron it out on my own before telling you since your opinion on who I date is important to me,”
You just smiled and nodded your head, “Fine, fine. Keep your crush to yourself then.  But whoever they are, they’re lucky.”
As you walked off to retrieve your book, Joe was watching you with a small smile on his lips.  You had no idea he was cooking up a plan to ask you on a date, to leave his own heart on the line for you.  
The End.
January Prompt Session
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