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#no i will not shut up about their similarities. Fight me.
dekusleftsock · 7 hours
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I JUST HAD THIS REALIZATION IN THE SHOWER WHY HAVE I NEVER. THOUGHT ABOUT KATSUKI LIKE THIS.
So this is going to kind of go into Izuku’s bullying from Katsuki but it’s mainly if not entirely about why Katsuki has always stood out as a person, regardless of quirk or even leadership.
What got me thinking about this was actually those “American meets K-Drama bullies” on tiktok, which I often feel has a hint of xenophobia, but I digress.
One of the main points as to WHY the American in those examples would “win” is because of the cultural differences between fighting back vs shutting up and taking the beating. The main reason most Americans believed they would win is because culturally, a K drama bully would never think that their victim would retaliate, much less try to beat their ass in the first place.
Japan and China have similar cultural standards, especially to bullying (which is why bullying is so so bad statistically in Japan, with a whopping 57% bullying rate), and this “sit down and take the beating” cultural standard often permits bullies to continue to retaliate within the school. (Fun fact I was actually researching divorce in Japan for this due to some misinformation I’d read a while ago, but apparently Japan doesn’t have joint custody?? Like period?? It comes from the idea that a family is a set unit, and that were a parent to want to leave that unit, they are fundamentally no longer apart of it. No marriage, no custody, no child. You simply don’t see your kid very often, or ever. Sometimes this is even a decision on the father’s part, thinking that it’s “too painful to see the child after separation”, and that parents don’t see the benefit in children having both parties in their lives)
So, thinking of this in mind, I first went to why Izuku wouldn’t necessarily speak out or try to fight back. He wants to, he definitely almost does, but ends up standing silently shaking instead. Yes, fighting back may feel good, but even to people who would sympathize with said struggles may still blame the victim in this situation for “causing trouble”, it’s why Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship is even more interesting; it’s not just Izuku gaining confidence as he goes into high school, but that after he was given a space TO fight back (the first hero training), he actually started his arc on “defying society” and “not pushing things under the rug”. Tearing that rug to shreds doesn’t just mean looking out for those who haven’t been looked for, but also for destroying the standards that fighting back is a fault of yourself.
Tbh we also have this in the west as well, even those Americans who like to make those TikTok’s shaming people in countries they have no contextual idea to understand, much less solve. Because it’s not that fighting back itself would be hard, but that the social backlash would cause you to be even more of a target. It’s a lose-lose situation, so yes, a student will choose the wisdom of their parents and their elders that tells them to pretend it isn’t there.
But, besides that, in America (and I honestly wouldn’t doubt that this is in Europe too) the subtlety of that shame IS STILL THERE. I can even account for this in my middle school, for lightly pushing my bullies who ganged up on me, I was the one blamed and threatened punishment. The idea of a fight at all in high school would cause immediate suspension on both parties records, regardless of why or who started it. My brother in middle school was expelled for threatening kids who were both physically and vocally harassing him, and instead of any sort of help from the school, they REFUSED footage that might have defended him and my brother was then ostracized by my neighborhood/school district and thought to be some kid about to shoot up a school, he wasn’t.
Violence isn’t always the answer, obviously, but this is mainly to point out the hypocrisy of putting the west on this pedestal for fighting injustice.
I wanted to put this in somewhere but didn’t know where so it’s going here, but I find this take even funnier given the fact that North America has a 1% higher bullying rate than Asia which is so fucking funny and ironic
BUT BACK TO THE MAIN POINT ON KATSUKI, IM GETTING THERE I PROMISE🙏🙏
I think there’s this perception online of Katsuki that he is considered so unbelievably cool and normal given the context of his middle and elementary school, but putting it into perspective? Fighting your bullies, especially ones a year older than you, is REALLY WEIRD. Like, he’s an odd ball. It actually makes so much more sense as to why Izuku admires Katsuki in the first place. Katsuki has NEVER simply sat down and took the beating IN HIS LIFE.
And when you really think about it? All of that direct language, how rude he talks in Japanese (as in what pronouns he even uses for people, to the point that even the “softer” or “more intimate” pronouns he uses are… also kind of rude), and yk, suddenly, it’s almost like all the people at the beginning of their first year making fun of him… makes sense. And not just in a “lets humble this guy” way, they have no reasons to think of him in any kind of way really, they’re simply reacting to Katsuki and his odd way of speech and forwardness. He IS weird here, not just an asshole.
But EVEN GIVEN the fact that people know and think Katsuki is weird, he still strides along anyway. In fact, the only person who has ever gotten under his skin has been Izuku, who never even implied that he thought any malice of him in the first place.
Even now Katsuki continues to be himself to such a visceral, outward degree. I saw this post recently that was saying Izuku was actually quite mature for his age, but I’d argue that it’s less maturity, and more that he has just abided by a certain cultural standard of being thankful for the opportunities he’s been given.
It’s almost like Horikoshi has used Katsuki as this… idk, societal commentary? He certainly stays a societal commentary here in the west and our standards, often portraying more nuanced ideas of forgiveness and change and humility, but it’s different now that I think about it.
Katsuki isn’t just a character made to be rude for the sake of being funny, he’s an honest to god, walking, talking, culmination of what Japanese culture stands to change. It’s why Katsuki keeping his “hardened” traits is so so SO important. And it’s even more interesting given that he’s popular, he’s powerful, and he’s still bold while he does so.
Katsuki didn’t try to be popular, he just happened to do so. Explaining why he’s so bizarrely different from everyone else suddenly makes everything about his character make sense to me. Like, ofc Izuku would admire him to an almost worshipping degree, ofc he would stay in his life regardless of his flaws, Katsuki is himself in the most unapologetic way possible and THATS what’s truly admirable about him. His quirk, his determination, they’re both beautiful, but he’s the hero in his life because heroes inherently juxtapose the society around them. And that is exactly what Katsuki is.
And Katsuki, for all his flaws, never changed himself for society. He was always, long before he went to UA, before he even had his quirk, before he’d probably even met Izuku—been a hero.
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puella-1n-somn10 · 2 months
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Need I say more?
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ecoamerica · 25 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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hoffmanstits-enjoyer · 8 months
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A legit horde of zombies to be treated in Portland, a fucking royal family playing them for fools not to mention the person taking Nick has a spit-toxin that will drive kehrseite and wesen mad, but Monroe's first and foremost priority is getting to Nick wherever the fuck he is, in whatever capacity he can, with the help of whomever's on board to help— I'm sorry, am I supposed not to consider this beyond loyal friendship and way into the realms of devotion considering the person Monroe has been as a wieder? You've gotta be shitting me.
It's one thing for Monroe to include himself into Laufer VS. Verrat business indirectly, even his heartfelt and spiteful speech about not caring about the status quo doesn't say as much as this because holy fuck, he wants to insert himself in the center of the situation because Nick's in danger. Full ready to 'make some calls' and LEAVE ON SOME PLANE TO GO AND FIND NICK, PLANS MADE AS THEY MOVE. GOD.
I'm so unwell, send help.
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transbee · 7 months
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having did and being online in any capacity is so fucking exhausting because you literally can't go anywhere without seeing the most heinous takes about your existence or validity it's like. can we be normal. can we please be normal and Chill for like two seconds.
#HEADS UP: this accidentally turned into a huge rant/vent feel free to get the hell out el oh el#i try reallly hard not to talk about it too much here because you can. offhandedly mention the mere concept of did or osdd or any#dissociative disorder and its like. people will not shut up about how its not real or how its people being delusional or kids being cringe#like. can we go. two seconds without treating people with mental disorders like a spectacle. please. you dont have to have a ''take'' on it#idk and i also avoid online did communities bc theyre the most exhausting spaces you can ever be in and theres constant fighting about#literally anything and everything. like. maybe i would like to find a space to meet other people with similar experiences to my own.#and we dont get that!! we literally cannot get that. and this goes for a lot of mental health related stuff but like my god#and im very lucky to have other people i know in real life who also have did so i can in some amount have that support system (hah.)#but it is EXHAUSTINGG that people cannot go literally a day without saying something stupid about systems#or i can be following someone for years and unprompted they will saysomething heinous thing about did and hide it behind something like#get a load of how weird and cringey kids are getting online these days.#and CHRISTT thats a whole OTHER issue i REALLY dont wanna talk about because it has its own whole set of nuances but like jeeeesus#is it really so hard for people to grasp that brains when exposed to traumas at a young age will be affected by it in weird ways.#idk man ive been seeing a lot of offhanded disregard for systems recently and it's so normalized and it's starting to get to me i guess#i wish people could just go well this is something i dont understand and dont need to have an opinion on and move on with their lives.#what the hell ever this is all to say having did has impacted my life in a lot of complicated and intricate and hard to explain ways and it#sometimes painful and awful but other times is an incredible experience and ALSO. most IMPORTANTLY !#i should be able to make jokes about BEING FRIENDS with SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG!! in REAL LIFE!!!#and not have to deal with SUICIDE BAIT IN MY INBOXX BECAUSE OF IT!!!#WHATEVERRR !!! RANT OVARRR I HAVE NOODLES TO MAKE AND EAT#.... WITH my friend SHADOW!!!#.txt#and btw this isnt about anyone ik here so dont worry im not upset with any mutuals etc etc and all that.#in fact i love getting the chance to chat about it n it can be fun to teach stuff to people who know how to like...be normal about it LOL#<3
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Every man who hated on Birds of Prey but loved Bullet Train owes me five bucks
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hazyhae · 2 months
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indica dreams | ldh
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plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny
summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it. 
wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni
cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames
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you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.
when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.
this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.
you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.
“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.
“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”
“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.
a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.
6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx
“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.
“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”
you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.
you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.
“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.
“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”
you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.
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lee donghyuck
the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.
you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.
it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.
“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.
the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.
“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.
“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.
“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.
your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”
he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.
you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.
“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.
“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”
the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.
“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.
“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.
“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”
you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.
“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.
“so just for sleep?” he asks.
“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.
“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.
his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.
“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.
“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.
like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.
the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.
you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.
your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.
“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.
“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.
“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.
“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.
“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.
aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.
“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.
“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?
“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.
“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”
“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.
“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.
“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.
“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”
you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.
he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.
“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.
“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.
“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”
you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.
“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.
“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.
“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.
you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.
“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.
4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he
5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):
7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:
even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.
“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.
“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”
he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.
you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.
“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”
“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”
with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.
you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.
steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.
-h
you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?
you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?
you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.
you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.
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your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.
you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.
by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.
when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.
you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.
8:35pm you: jen wyd?
you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.
8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?
you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.
call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.
rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.
you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.
“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.
“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.
“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.
“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.
“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.
you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.
“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”
“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.
he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.
in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.
“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.
“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.
“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.
“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.
“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.
he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.
“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”
your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.
your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.
when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.
10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine
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a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.
you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.
in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.
you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.
when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.
“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.
“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.
“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.
sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.
the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.
“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.
“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.
“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.
“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.
he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.
“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”
you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.
“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.
“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.
“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.
“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.
“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.
you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.
“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.
the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.
but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.
your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.
what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.
“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.
“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.
you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.
curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.
“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.
“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.
“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.
you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.
“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.
“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.
“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.
“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”
you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.
“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.
he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.
“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.
you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.
the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.
all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.
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after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.
the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.
another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.
one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.
he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.
you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.
“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.
you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.
“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.
you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.
he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.
“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.
“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”
hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.
“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.
“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.
“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.
a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.
“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.
a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.
“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”
you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.
from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.
your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.
that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.
somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.
he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.
you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.
you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.
“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”
“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.
“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.
“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.
“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”
you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.
“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.
but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.
“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.
you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.
you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.
“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.
jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.
“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.
“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.
“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”
you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.
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you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.
“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.
you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.
you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.
though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.
it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.
when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?
you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.
when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.
you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck. **
an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.
the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.
you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.
a feeling of dread runs through you.
you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.
why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?
you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing with good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.
hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.
you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.
it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.
you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.
12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.
only one ring passes when he picks up.
“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.
“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.
“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.
“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.
“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”
he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.
10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.
when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.
as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.
the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.
you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.
“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.
when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.
“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.
this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.
when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.
“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.
you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.
“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”
“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.
“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”
my girl.
you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.
you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.
“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.
“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.
“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.
“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.
“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”
he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.
“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.
“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”
you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.
he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.
“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.
“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.
you hold out your arms to him.
“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.
“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.
“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.
“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.
he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.
“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.
“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.
“sleep tight, sunshine.”
that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.
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you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.
hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.
“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.
“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.
“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.
“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”
any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.
“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.
it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.
“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.
“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.
“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.
his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.
“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.
you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.
“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.
“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.
“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.
“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.
he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.
“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.
“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.
he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.
he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.
“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”
one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.
“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.
you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.
“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.
“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.
“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.
he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.
“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.
the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.
in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.
“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.
“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.
“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.
he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.
“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”
you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.
“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”
his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.
“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.
“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.
“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.
“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.
“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.
“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.
“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.
“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.
“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.
he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.
tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.
he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.
he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.
he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.
“round 2 after dinner?”
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the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.
“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.
you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.
forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.
“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.
“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.
you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.
end.
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a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')
i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!
disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!
-coco ♡
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oepionie · 1 year
Text
— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡
⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞
⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞
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—♰ RIDDLE
Princess treatment, Like—literally
Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.
The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.
"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."
"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.
"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"
"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.
"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."
There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ TREY
Passenger princess treatment<3
Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"… I was made for lovin' you, baby
You were made for lovin' me
And I can't get enough of you, baby
Can you get enough of me?"
Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.
Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.
Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.
You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."
Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."
A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."
He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.
"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"
He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  DEUCE
Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!
Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.
Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.
While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."
Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."
Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.
In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.
So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"
While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"
Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."
───────────��───────── · ·
— ♰ LEONA
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment
Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.
Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.
First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.
As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.
"Ah, um…"  A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."
Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"
"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.
"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."
"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.
"No buts."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  RUGGIE
Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3
Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.
For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.
Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.
While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.
Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.
"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.
The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.
"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JACK
Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee
Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.
His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.
Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."
Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.
"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"
"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."
The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."
"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."
"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.
"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.
"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  AZUL
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2
Azul lived to spoil you.
For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).
Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"
"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."
"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."
"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"
"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.
As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.
"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."
"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JADE
You have scary eel privileges'
It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.
It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.
"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"
"Not at all."
Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.
"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees. 
Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form. 
He did not seem happy.
"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."
Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.
Only for it to never come.
"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap. 
"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ FLOYD
You have scary eel privileges' #2
Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy. 
You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.
Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"
Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.
"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."
The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.
Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"
"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"
You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock." 
"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.
"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ ROOK
This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.
As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.
Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.
"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.
"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.
"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.
"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"
"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."
Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.
It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ MALLEUS
Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.
You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.
Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.
Only for there to be none.
You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."
"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"
"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"
"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"
Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"
"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous." 
"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"
───────────────────── · ·
—♰ SEBEK
Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3
Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him. 
The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.
"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."
The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder. 
It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding. 
Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.
"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"
Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."
Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.
"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."
The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."
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lincolndjarin · 4 months
Text
Not So Secret Santa
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javier peña x fem!reader
this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!
summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.
warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.
tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.
word count : 4.4k
✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)
no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 
“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.
“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  
“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 
“My entire Christmas bonus.” 
“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”
“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 
“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 
“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 
“Please, Steve.” 
“No.”
You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 
When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 
“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 
Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 
Javier P. 
Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 
And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 
Every single woman, except you. 
You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 
He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 
“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 
“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 
“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 
“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 
You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 
Red chipped paint. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.
It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 
Probably. 
It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 
With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 
Stupid fucking Peña. 
Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.
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Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 
You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 
Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 
Jesus. 
You know way too much about him. 
You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 
“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 
Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 
There’s no time to be thinking like that.
You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.
Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 
The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.
“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 
“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 
He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.
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More people show up than you could have expected. 
You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 
You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 
Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 
You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 
String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 
“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 
He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 
Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.
One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  
You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 
“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 
“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 
“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 
Javier traded for your name? 
As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 
“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”
Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.
Huh.
That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 
Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 
Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 
Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  
You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 
Javier’s office. 
You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.
Today is just not your day.
Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 
Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 
“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 
“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 
What a foolish question. 
How could he possibly not know?
“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 
“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 
“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 
“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 
“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”
“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  
This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 
“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 
“So this is about the secret Santa.” 
Of course he wouldn’t get it. 
“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 
You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 
“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 
“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.
“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 
You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 
“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 
“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 
If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 
You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 
Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.
When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 
“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 
“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 
You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 
You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 
Jesus you’re soaked. 
You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 
He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 
You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.
Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 
Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 
You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 
You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.
He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 
Did that really just happen?
He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 
“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 
“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 
“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 
“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.
“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 
“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 
It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.
Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 
[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]
Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 
from : your secret fucking santa
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a/n : happy holidays everyone!!
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ellemj · 4 months
Text
That Wasn't Quiet: 12 Days of Smut #5
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Fully inspired by this tiktok from @the.stark.internship: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8u74sXe/
Summary: You've been on the run for two months and now that the team has found you, they don't trust you to be alone. Of course, Bucky is one of the ones assigned to keep an eye on you through the night, even though you two have a bit of a history.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, oral sex (female receiving), slight exhibitionism (someone overhears), fingering, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: This one isn't Christmas-themed because truthfully, I forgot about that. It takes place sometime after Captain America: Civil War but before TFATWS, not that that matters much for a one-shot. Also can everyone go look at @littlemiss-yeehaw's fckin INSANE SKETCH OF A HAIR-PULLING BUCKY BARNES BECAUSE I'M STILL NOT OVER IT THANKS.
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            “How’re we doing, boys?” Nat asks the question immediately upon entering the surveillance room of the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre in Berlin. She’s the last to arrive. She glances around the room, letting her eyes scan over the expressions of Steve, Sam, and Bucky. They all look quite done with the situation at hand.
            “She’s not talking.” Steve answers. He’s standing with his back against the far wall, with his arms crossed over his chest and a slightly defeated look on his face. Bucky, however, looks more determined than defeated.
            “She’s about to.” Bucky’s tone is so calm and certain that it draws all eyes to him as he pushes himself off of the table he was sitting on. Nat looks at him, her interest clearly piqued, before glancing back over at Steve, wondering if she should be concerned. Steve gives Bucky a hard stare, while Sam turns his head to watch as the man with the metal arm and perpetual bad attitude heads straight for the door. No one makes a move to stop him. Instead, as the door shuts behind Bucky, everyone turns their attention to the surveillance screen that shows you. You’re locked in a secure glass chamber, with your arms and legs immobilized by metal restraints, and even your shoulders are held in place by something similar. The only movements that you’re free to make are within the normal range of motion of your head. Everyone watches as Bucky steps into the secure holding area and stops a few feet away from the glass that separates you and him.
            “Bucky Barnes.” You say his name with amusement. You find it amusing that he’s the team’s last resort. First, Steve tried to get through to you. Steve is just too nice, he was never going to get anything out of you. Then, Sam tried to rationalize his way into your mind. Of course, that was about as effective as Steve’s good cop approach. Next, they sent in Agent Everett Ross. You have to admit, Ross was good. If you were going to tell any of them anything, it probably would’ve been him. He has that whole I’m-on-your-side-and-I-can-help-you thing down pat. But you were waiting to see if Bucky would take a shot at you. You wanted to see him. Now he stands before you, wearing one of his signature Henley tees and hiding that irresistible silver arm from you. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” You tease.
            “I could, but where’s the fun in that?” He plays along, but he’s actively denying himself the pleasure of looking at you. He’s keeping his eyes down on his hands, where he’s using a small cloth to clean the crevices of his metal knuckles. You imagine he probably scuffed it up a bit during the scuffle earlier today. It took the entire GSG 9 team along with Steve, Bucky, and Sam to capture you and bring you here. You never were one to go down without a fight.
            “Why don’t you go ahead and ask your questions? Get them out of the way so we can get to the good part of all of this.” Your eyes are tracking every move he makes with his hands. You’re mesmerized but trying your best to focus on your goal.
            “And what’s the good part of all of this, sweetheart?” Fuck. He hasn’t called you a name like that since… Images of the last time you were together start flooding through your mind. Your memory is a blur of his hands on your hips, his lips against your ear as you sink down on his cock, and that stupid name rolling off of his tongue: sweetheart. As you’re lost in thought, Bucky’s taking the chance to look at you. You look just like you did the last time he saw you, barely two months ago. The only thing that’s different about your appearance now is the bruise over your left eye and the cut over your cheekbone. He finds himself wanting to severely injure whichever GSG 9 agent it was that laid hands on you hard enough to cause even those minor wounds, but he can’t think about that right now. He needs answers.
            “The good part will be the moment you realize you still need me, in about three minutes, give or take a few.” You say smugly, tilting your head to one side since it’s really the only move you can currently make. Bucky tsks, tucking the small cloth in the back pocket of his dark jeans before looking you dead in the eyes.
            “Why are you in Berlin?” He asks plainly. Wow, right to business then. You expected him to at least question what you meant when you said that he still needed you.
            “I needed to speak with an inmate at the Berlin Correctional Facility.” You answer honestly. He’s already gotten more info out of you than anyone else has today, but that’s all part of your plan.
            “Zemo.” Bucky says coolly. You nod slowly, awaiting Bucky’s next question. “What information does Zemo have that you’re interested in?”
            “He knows someone that has the ability to reverse the effects of the super soldier serum.”
            Your words send a blanket of silence throughout the surveillance room, as well as sending a new wave of realization rushing through Bucky’s mind. This is why you disappeared two months ago. All of those times you talked about wishing you’d never been injected with the serum, all of those hours that Bucky knew you spent researching and experimenting on your own blood samples looking for a way to reverse the effects, Bucky should’ve known. He should’ve known the day you disappeared from New York that you were simply continuing your efforts to get yourself back to normal. But, he never put two and two together. Instead, he believed it when he was told that you’d been compromised, that you’d gone dark and that the serum had likely brought the worst parts of you into the limelight. All of this time, everyone assumed you’d been working against SHIELD and the Avengers as a rogue agent. They were all dead wrong.
            “This is the part where you realize you need me.” You say with a smirk. “You need me because I’m the only one that’s ever wanted to reverse the effects of this serum, I’m the only one with the research and the leads that I have now. There are other super soldiers out there besides the three of us in here, and a lot of them do way more harm than good. If I can get to this guy that Zemo knows, we’ll have a chance at righting a few wrongs.”
            “Why should we trust you now? You’ve been gone for two months and you’ve left a trail of dead bodies and destruction everywhere that you’ve been.” Bucky’s eyes are narrowed at you now, analyzing every face you make and every word that leaves your lips.
            “I said you needed me. I didn’t say you had to trust me.”
---
            It’s a long three hours later when you’re finally set free from the uncomfortable glass chamber. Agent Ross insisted they keep you in magnetic handcuffs, though you think it’s more for his peace of mind than anything, because with a little effort and determination you think you could pretty easily get out of them. You sit in the backseat of a car with Steve on your left and Bucky on your right, his cold metal arm pressing against your side due to the lack of space the two giant men leave you. Agent Ross is driving while Nat sits in the passenger seat. Sam chose to fly ahead and scope out the safehouse you’re being taken to for the night. Since you’re still not trusted, they’ll be leaving you, Steve, and Bucky there overnight. They figured you wouldn’t be able to fight two super soldiers on your own, and even if you did manage to take them both down, there wouldn’t be anyone else around for you to possibly severely injure or leave dead on your way out.
            You fight the urge to be an annoying little shit for the duration of the car ride, and instead remain silent. You can be an annoying little shit once you’re locked in the safehouse for the night. The plan is to head over to the Berlin Correctional Facility first thing in the morning to meet with Zemo and find out what he knows. Until then, you’re going to be kept under the watchful eyes of Steve and Bucky. Steve isn’t feeling great about the plan at all. He’s the only one that knows you and Bucky have a bit of a past. He doesn’t even know what exactly that past is, but he’s always been able to sense the tension between you two. He sees the way Bucky looks at you like he’s both angry that you’d leave and angry that you didn’t invite him to run away with you. It almost makes him wonder if having Bucky here with you tonight is going to be more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe they should’ve had Nat stay instead.
---
            The safehouse is small as shit. There are exactly two bedrooms, not a single window in the whole place, and even the couch in the living room is only a two-seater. You’ve decided Berlin sucks. You had to fight Steve and Bucky just to be allowed to have a shower, with the two men only giving in if you agreed to leave the door open while they sat out of sight in the living room.
            As you’re in the shower, rinsing the soapy suds off of your skin, Bucky’s sitting next to Steve on the couch, actively trying not to think about how naked you are just down the hallway. He can’t seem to shake a specific memory that’s playing behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He had your front pressed up against one of the gym shower walls, fucking into you so slowly and silently that no one ever would’ve realized you were about to cum on his cock for the second time that day. God, you were always so pliant for him, so ready for his touch at any given time. He has to wonder if you’d still be that way after two months without him. Have you thought about him while you’ve been away?
            “Maybe you should go check on her.” Steve says to Bucky, tilting his head in the direction of the open bathroom door. You’ve been in there for almost twenty minutes now, when they originally gave you a ten-minute limit. There isn’t any way you could possibly escape through the bathroom walls, but they still don’t trust you to be alone and out of their sight for that long.
            “Why me?” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve.
            “You know why.” Steve chuckles, hinting to Bucky that he knows there’s been something between you and him. Bucky shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stands up and treks down the short hallway. You can hear his footsteps before he ever has a chance to say anything, and you quickly cut the running water off.
            “You’re really taking your time in here.” Bucky points out, stopping right outside of the bathroom door. He can see the reflection of the shower curtain in the bathroom mirror from where he’s standing. He only has a second to notice the way your towel is folded up on the bathroom sink, a good two steps away from the shower, before you pull the curtain open confidently. His eyes freeze on your naked reflection in the fogged up mirror and all of the blood in his veins reroutes straight to his cock. “What the hell are you doing?” He asks harshly, quickly stepping into the bathroom and throwing the door shut behind him. He sure as hell isn’t going to let Steve see you like this.
            “You said I had to leave the door open, I was just following orders. I can’t reach my towel from here.” You say innocently, pushing out your bottom lip in a fake pout. Bucky isn’t even facing you, he’s standing facing the bathroom sink and mirror, with his eyes shut tightly.
            “You’re so damn manipulative.” Bucky spits the words out through clenched teeth before grasping the towel in his right hand and tossing it over his shoulder to you. You towel yourself dry quickly before wrapping it around your figure and stepping out of the shower. The bathroom is so small that you have no choice other than to brush against Bucky’s back as you pull the curtain closed. He tenses up as soon as he feels how close you are to him.
            “Tell me something, Bucky.” You whisper. You let your fingers trail down his back lightly, surprised that he hasn’t turned around and shoved you away yet.  “You’ve missed me, haven’t you?”
            “Get dressed.” He says flatly, opening his eyes for a moment to verify that your clothes are still sitting on the other side of the bathroom sink.
            “No.” Your answer is defiant. You let your hand fall away from his back but you keep your eyes focused on his frame, on the way his shoulders are moving up and down with each heavy breath he takes. He’s trying to keep himself calm and composed. Knowing how easy it was to get him riled up back when the two of you messed around only makes this whole situation laughable. He already wants to fuck, and you’ve barely done anything.
            “Why are you making this so hard?” He questions, boldly turning around to face you in your towel-clad state.
            “What’s so hard?” The teasing lilt in your tone is driving him insane. He watches as you stand three inches in front of him, letting your eyes travel down his body to land right over his hard-on. His jeans can only do so much to hide it. “Oh, I see.” You laugh lightly, noting his boner. Bucky feels enraged. Enraged that you left two months ago, enraged that you never once tried to reach out to him or ask him for help with your little side mission, and especially enraged that you’re standing here right now teasing him, like you haven’t also been reliving your past sexual trysts with him. You want him as much as he wants you right now, and he can prove it. He will prove it.
            In one swift move, Bucky grabs your waist and spins you to the side, pinning your back against the bathroom door before sliding down to his knees in front of you. In another second, he’s tugging on the bottom of your towel, forcing it to unwrap from your figure and fall to the floor around your feet. When he has you fully naked for him, he looks up at you with his lust-blown eyes.
            “You’re going to be quiet for me.” There’s no hint of a question in his voice, and you can only nod in response. “Good girl.”
            Bucky nudges your knees apart with his hand before hitching your left leg up and over his shoulder. Shit. Is he really going to eat you out right here, with his best friend only a few feet away from the thin wooden door that your back is pressed against right now? You look down as Bucky leans forward and captures your clit in his mouth, licking and sucking on it with enough passion to make your head spin. Your back arches off of the door as your fingers card through his hair, pulling his face impossibly closer to your cunt. Any other time, Bucky probably would’ve pulled back and told you to be patient. But this time, he’s feeling every bit as impatient as you. So, he continues to work on your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around it just like he used to do when he wanted to drive you crazy in bed. His metal hand is gripping your ass while his flesh hand moves to join his mouth between your legs. He teases your entrance with a fingertip for a moment, and just as you’re about to beg for more, he plunges it into you up to the first joint. The moan that sneaks past your lips is a good bit louder than you expected it to be and Bucky pulls back abruptly, giving you a stern look and squeezing your ass with his metal hand.
            “What did I say?”
            “I’ll be quiet.” You promise, in a hushed tone. Bucky eyes you coldly for a second before nodding and putting his mouth right back where it belongs. He steals a look up at you to find you covering your mouth with one hand while the other hand is firmly rooted in his hair. You’re doing so fucking good for him. As a reward, he adds a second finger inside of you, alternating between thrusting them in as deep as they can go and then curling them against your walls.
            What you don’t expect is a third finger. When he adds a third finger inside of you, the stretch is a little too much to bear and you moan out louder than before. You expect him to stop, you expect him to pull back and tell you to shut the fuck up, but no. Even though Steve is now fully aware of what’s going on behind the closed bathroom door, Bucky doesn’t stop. Your moan and the fact that Steve knows you’re getting off right now spurs Bucky on so much so that he starts sucking on your clit like it’ll take him right back to two months ago when everything was perfect. He increases the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of your tight, wet cunt, absolutely loving the sounds your body is making. He’s committing those sounds to memory right there on the bathroom floor. A few seconds later, he feels the way your hips are bucking against his face and the way the walls of your pussy are repeatedly clenching around his fingers and he knows.
            “Bucky, I’m gonna cum.” You moan out. You’ve stopped caring that Steve can probably hear every bit of what’s happening right now. All you care about is your looming orgasm that’s being held hostage by the man between your legs. Bucky continues doing exactly what he’s doing, working your cunt just right until you finally tip over the edge, falling into perfect bliss over his mouth and fingers. He continues curling his fingers softly inside you and pressing his tongue against your clit as you lightly grind against it. When you finally still above him, he pulls back and sucks the taste of you off of his fingers.
            “That wasn’t quiet.” Bucky laughs, looking up at you with a mischievous smile painted across his features.
            “No, it wasn’t.” Steve’s slightly unsettled voice echoes from the living room down the hall.
            Oops.
TAG LIST:
@charmedbysarge @gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @claireelizabeth85 @fandomsfeminismandme @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216 @twlkdead
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pray4byron · 3 months
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Could I please request a Vox, Adam, and Lucifer x GN! Reader who’s typically very chatty and hyper when excited. And maybe somebody says something like “you talk too much”, and it obviously gets to the reader. And how Vox, Adam, and Lucifer would respond and/ or defend their s/o? Thank you!~ :3
ofc!! this is very fun to brainstorm and write for haha (especially for Vox)
Warnings: S1 finale spoilers in Lucifer’s section, randos + Alastor being shitheads
Adam, Lucifer, Vox x Reader who talks a lot
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Adam
He had absolutely no idea you felt this way until you two were having a conversation before bed, and he said something he didn't mean
“Geez, you talk a lot.” Adam commented with a light hearted chuckle as he looked down at you, snuggled into his chest and the covers of your shared bed, he didn’t mean any harm though, it was more so commentary.
“I can stop…” You murmured, embarrassed. “No no no, it’s okay, keep going.” He said, rushing to cut you off, as he snuggled your face deeper into his chest.
Adam won’t hesitate to jump in if somebody says something, because only HE can do that.
“You talk too much, you need to calm down, it’s not that serious.” An angel said, while at a meeting, your shoulders dropped before you heard your boyfriend pipe up,
“And? Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking Heaven, bitch. People are allowed to talk and be happy, damn bruh, you’re a fucking party pooper!”
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Lucifer
He has his own tendencies to go on endless rants here and there so honestly you both just talk nonstop, and he doesn’t mind a bit!
If someone were to say something to you, he’d have a reaction similar to his reaction with the Charlie-Adam fight, but more tame cause the person didn’t physically harm you
“Stop talking and let me finish!” Alastor said cheerfully with a grin as he went to continue his sentence.
“You don’t get to talk to my partner that way, you smiling freak.” Luci said with a forced grin between gritted teeth, turning his focus away from the conversation with his daughter and her girlfriend and putting it to the conversation between you and Alastor.
“I’m the smiling freak? Look at you! You’re face is all messed up, especially that god-awful smile.” Alastor remarked, poking the bear that was the very protective Lucifer Morningstar, both when it came to his daughter and his partner.
“OKAY!” Charlie said attempting to separate the two, with Vaggie rushing to her aid.
Yeah, if they weren’t stopped, that wouldn’t have ended well😀
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Vox
He doesn’t mind your talks, he’s a good listener, but he might not catch everything if he’s working, but if he’s not? He’s all ears.
He’ll act super nonchalant about it, but he thinks it’s the cutest thing.
Normally, he isn’t willing to cause a scene because of his status, but when someone insults the thing he loves most about his partner? Yeah, that shit isn’t flying with him around.
You were scrolling through the comments of the most recent interview that Vox had on his show, which happened to be with you, and you couldn’t bare what you were reading. Mainly the comments like: ‘Omfg Vox’s partner doesn’t stop talking’ or ‘Vox can do better’ or ‘Can they just shut the fuck up? Like bro it’s not that hard.’
You just shut your phone off and slammed it onto the night stand, as tears trickled down your face, all you wanted was to be enough for him, if these people think these things, he probably would to.
You hear someone enter your shared bedroom, with you curled up in blankets and sniffles coming out of you, you feel the bed dip next to you, and a robotic voice that has to belong to Vox ask, “What’s troubling you, my dear?”
“People are just mean…” You mumbled, turning on your other side to face him and picking up your phone and handing it to Vox, you watched Vox scroll for a moment, watching his eye twitch angrily.
“I will handle it, sweetheart. I’ll be right back, don’t you worry your precious mind about a thing.” Vox said, stroking your hair, as he got up and left the room.
Turns out, Vox did a bit of…digging. He got the contact information of the main commenter who gave you issues, and sent them, a little surprise video…
The video showed Vox in office chair, he got straight to the point immediately, banging his fist onto his desk. “Listen here, you little bitch.” He growled, he was glitching out of anger already, damn.
“You don’t get to talk about my partner that way.” Vox stated, waving his pointer finger at the camera, “And if you do?” Vox asked rhetorically, giving a fake grin, before he became more visibly angry then you’ve ever seen him.
“I will personally find you myself, you low-life, fucking loser, and I will tear you apart. Just because your a sad sad, 40 year old virgin man, who still lives with mommy and daddy rent-free and plays on your VoxBox all day, doesn’t mean you get to insult my partner, and you should know better to not EVER pull that shit again, and if you even think about trying to I’ll fly drowns all throughout Hell and make sure they fucking find you and rip you apart, you hear me?”
His anger falters as the glitch does in his voice, “Anyway, have a lovely day, and don’t fuck with my partner again.” He said with his usual show grin as the screen went black immediately.
Yeah, don’t expect him to do that often.
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girlgenius1111 · 4 days
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hallmarks of sisterhood
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putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
-------
Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 
-------
“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 
Alba flushed red with anger. 
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 
Alexia had responded first. 
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that. 
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 
Eli chuckled. “I will.” 
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 
“We really did.” Alba replied. 
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 
“We really do.” Alba agreed. 
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 
“New car?” 
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
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vanserrasswife · 2 months
Text
Please, Stay
Part 2
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Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel returns from his mission and you confront him about him leaving you a week prior.
Word count:1702
One week later
It’s a cold night, the fire roaring in the corner of the living room not doing much to protect against the harsh cold. I shiver as I pull the blankets closer around me, wishing he was here. If he was here I wouldn’t have needed all of these blankets, we could have been in bed together long ago. The warmth of his body shielding me from the cold.
My eyes flutter shut again before I force them open, the words on the page blurring. I slam the book closed, looking out of the window into the dark. How late is he going to be? I let out a long breath and rest my cheek against my hand. If I stare into the night for too long I can almost imagine him there, just watching me. Waiting for me to realise he’s there and run out to greet him.
Not this time. This time he can come to me. My heart aches slightly at the memory of the fight a week ago. If you could even call it a fight, it was just me begging him to stay and him leaving as always. This time I’ll speak to him about it, I won’t just brush it under the rug.
My eyes shut again and I let sleep take me away, maybe he’ll be back by the time I wake up. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll wake up to Azriel cradling me in his arms and apologising, telling me that he’ll stay. That he won’t be leaving again for a while. That he’s mine for a while and I’m his.
————————————————————————
Sunlight pours in through the window and I hiss, rubbing at my eyes as I adjust to the light of late morning. I stretch my legs and sigh, my eyes eagerly scan the room for a hint of him. A muddy footprint, a pair of boots by the door, a coat slung over the back of a chair, a lone shadow. Nothing. Nothing except for a piece of paper, lying on the kitchen counter.
My hand trembles slightly as I pick up the paper and unfold it. The sight of my mate’s neat handwriting and the faint scent of him coming off of the letter, bringing a smile to my face. A smile that's quickly wiped from my features. Two more days. He’s going to be gone for two more days. The tears return, the ache deep inside me becoming stronger.
I’m going to be alone for another two days, a half laugh, half sob chokes its way out of me and I frown as I storm off to mine and Azriel’s shared room. I fling the wardrobe doors open, hinges creaking as I start to throw clothes into a bag. I move around the house in a similar manner, grabbing necessities, enough to sustain me but not to alarm Azriel as soon as he gets back.
This is the last time. I throw the packed bag into the back of my side of the wardrobe. He has one chance. One more chance to fix this. To stay with me. Or I’m gone.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I glance up from my book as the front door swings open and I hear boots being wiped on the doormat. My heart skips a beat as I listen intently to the sounds of my mate taking off all of his work gear, knife holsters and weapons being left by the door to be put away later.
I take a deep breath, schooling my smiling face into a neutral one as I remember the conversation yet to be had. My stomach drops and my heart beats faster as my mate’s towering form walks through the doorway and he sits himself down on the couch next to me.
Shadows dart out to weave through my fingers as Azriel reaches over to gently take my book from my hands. He places it down on the couch, the other side of him and gently cups my jaw guiding me to look at him. Tears begin to well in my eyes at the gentle touch, at the love contained in it.
Azriel shushes me, promising me that everything is ok and he gently brushes away a tear before pulling me into him. Into his embrace, his warmth, his comfort. Azriel holds me silently, letting me release the tears I had been holding for the past week. I sniffle, the tears slowing as I pull away from his shoulder, out of his embrace. A hand stays brushing tears off of my cheeks, the other rubbing circles into my hip.
“Angel, are you ok?” I let out a shaky breath, my eyes focusing on the shadows weaving through my fingers. Azriel’s hand gently grabs my chin, pulling my head up to look at his. Deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I shake my head softly and pull out of his grip, moving further away from him. I need a clear mind for this conversation, I need to put some space between us.
Azriel doesn’t try to move closer to me as I start my rant, the words I had been holding in for a week all spilling out at once. “I’m upset Az, I thought that you could stay for a while and then you couldn’t and I-'' The words fall steadily out of my mouth and Azriel’s shoulders sink slightly, he curls in on himself slightly as if he was just now realising the extent of how upset I had been at his inability to stay with me.
“And I know that it's your job and that.” I stop for a breather as Azriel looks into my eyes for the first time since I had started my rant. “I know that you have to do your job and that you have to do whatever the High Lord says,” my voice is calmer now and Azriel is still staring straight at me, “but I- I just wish that you could stay for longer than a handful of days at a time.” My shoulders slump and I let out a long breath as Azriel starts speaking.
“Baby, It’s my job. I have to do it, even if it means I have to be away from you.” Another sob wracks its way through my chest and comes out my mouth accompanied by a laugh. Of all the ways I thought this conversation would go, I knew it would be this way. His work is more important than me. I knew that and I still held on to the hope that I would be his priority, more important than his job. But I’m not.
I take a deep breath, I need to calm down before the conversation continues. I need a break, maybe some fresh air. I could go for a walk and come back to this in an hour or two. If Azriel will even still be here. I try to push the thought away, but its engraved itself in the front of my mind. Oh gods. What if I leave and when I come back and he’s left again. I need to finish the conversation now.
“Your job means more to you than I do.” I cringe as I say the words out loud, but don’t find myself apologising, I can’t find it in me to apologise for saying it. Saying the thought that had been nagging at me for days now. Azriel winces and I know my words have hit something deep within him. Have upset him, maybe now he’ll know how I felt when he left.
“Angel. My job- it doesn’t-” I meet his eyes, silver lining them. The light reflects off of the watery tracks drawn across his cheeks and I fight every urge to go to him and comfort him. To tell him that everything will be ok, when I don’t know if it will be.
Azriel moves to stand in front of me, his hands gently cupping my face. A look of desperation taints his features and he shakes slightly. “I’m so sorry, bunny, I never want to make you feel like that. I’m so so sorry and I-” he blows out a breath, dropping to his knees before me. Hands encircling my waist he presses kisses to my clothed stomach. “Az, I-”
“I’ll speak to Rhys, I’ll make him send someone else. I’ll spend more time with you. I’ll do anything just please, please give me a chance.” His hands tighten around me, fisting my shirt pulling me impossibly closer to him. “Just one more chance.” He mutters over and over and over again. Like a prayer, a worship, a wish. He repeats it louder, quieter, barely a whisper, carving the words into my skin through kisses and touches.
“Az.” I whisper and he freezes, silence embracing us as his gentle words and loving touches stop. Slowly, as if I have forever, I reach down, taking Azriel’s chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt his head up to look at me. His normally godly features look ethereal, devastatingly beautiful as he sucks in a harsh breath. Hazel eyes shining with hope. Hope for a second chance. Hope for a chance to fix this.
“One chance.” I whisper, his face lights up and he wraps his arms around my waist again, pressing fast loving kisses to any part of me he can reach. “But you have to prove it. Properly.” He nods, hair brushing against my abdomen, “And you have to stick to it. Not just for a few weeks, but forever.” His hand starts rubbing my back through my top and I suddenly wish I wasn’t wearing it. “I still don’t fully forgive you for leaving the way you did.” His eyes glaze over with a new wave of tears but he fights them down, adam's apple catching in his throat as he nods slowly. Nodding in understanding and shame. Shame at how he had made his love, his mate feel.
“I promise, my love, I’ll do whatever it takes.” I nod and run my hands through his hair, brushing out the knots and tangles. “But first,” Azriel looks up at me expectantly, “I want to speak to Rhysand.”
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therainywriter · 7 months
Text
Mistaken (Fluff/Suggestive)
Pairing: Rh’auk x Reader
Request: Hi, I’m a massive fan of your writing and I adore your yautja fics, but I have to ask if your consider writing something similar to the jealously fic. Like reader is jealous thinking one of the much larger women yautja are trying to court your mate, only to find out your mate is jealous cause it’s clear the woman is trying to court you instead.
Your mate was in a meeting with important members of the tribe, occupied inside the hut you sat outside of.
You weren’t sure what it was about, though you were curious now, hearing their low, muffled clicks. You smiled, recognizing Rh’auk among them.
The breeze was warm and humidity comfortable, you couldn’t help but lean your head on the tree you sat against, letting your eyes shut and mind rest.
You didn’t fight it when you began dozing off, Rh’auk would be a while anyway.
When he finally emerged from the hut, he found you where he left you, only now you were sleeping peacefully.
He was beyond fond of his precious little hooman, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and nap the evening away.
Alas, there were things to be done, tasks he couldn’t brush aside, not even for you.
He crouch in front of you and brushed a clawed finger against your cheek, waking you gently with pets and small kisses.
You grumbled at first, so cruelly being pulled from your light slumber.
But once you saw him you grinned, arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled him into a tight embrace.
“You’re back,” you mumbled happily, nuzzling yourself closer.
His chest rumbled lowly, mandibles clicking together occasionally. Your warm greeting making his heart melt- as it does only for you, “Yes, I am back ank’te.”
He lifted you to your feet with ease, immediately missing your arms around him as you released your hold at his neck and stood with a small yawn.
“How was your meeting?” you questioned, interlacing your hand with his larger one as you began your walk back home.
He thought for a moment, “It went well. There is much to do in little time.”
You nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his arm, deciding not to push for details he didn’t wish to share.
You felt slightly aggravated when a female Yautja stopped you and Rh’auk in your walk. It was ridiculous how often they fawned over your mate, even with you clinging to his side.
She was strong and tall, bigger than Rh’auk, but still delicate in a way. Gold accents of jewelry rest upon her skin in a beautiful contrast, shimmering with each movement she made.
You couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure at her powerful elegance. She was worthy, worthy of a male such as Rh’auk.
Her eyes were soft as she looked at you, but harder when your mate spoke their native tongue, demanding her attention.
Rh’auk seemed more territorial than aggressive towards her. He growled and snapped at her words, whatever she was saying, he really didn’t take lightly to it.
They seemed to be arguing, a part of you worried they’d begin fighting.
You flinched when she hissed, mandibles flaring before backing off. She gave you one last soft glance as she wandered elsewhere.
You looked up at him confused, “What was.. that about?”
He grumbled, “She wished to challenge me- to court you,” the words came out sharply, fading into indecipherable, sharp clicks.
Your eyes widened, oh.
“There is always one to threaten me for you. What am I to do?” he picked you up bridal style, continuing walking whilst he glanced down at your wide, surprised eyes.
“You are lucky I did not take you then and there for everyone to see mei’aki.” he huffed, making your body heat up at the mere idea.
“I thought she was trying to court you,” you said after a moment, fingers absentmindedly tracing the deep scars on his chest.
He shook his head, the sharp appendages at his jaw moving as he chittered, amused.
“She is not the only female who has sought you out ooman,” Rh’auk seemed so sour again at the idea of anyone stealing you from him.
You kissed his chest, feeling the way his hands tightened on your skin, “You’re the only one I’ll ever call my mate,” you said sweetly.
He couldn’t help but stop in his tracks and lean down to kiss you, your words meaning far more to him than you’d ever imagine.
He could only think to show you how much they meant to him.
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literaila · 1 month
Text
it's not my fault
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument
warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents
last part | next part
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*
year five.
“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 
you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 
they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 
but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 
megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 
you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 
they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 
tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 
“i wasn’t mean.” 
“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 
“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 
“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 
megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 
“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 
“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 
“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 
“i’ve never complained—“ 
“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 
tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 
usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 
but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 
sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.
but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 
this seems… different. 
a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 
you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 
and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 
with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 
it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 
satoru would do it if he was here. 
“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 
“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 
really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 
you make a mental note to look it up later. 
you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."
you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 
in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 
“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 
they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 
but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 
“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 
and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 
but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 
“you told her not to talk to you!” 
he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 
you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 
“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 
“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 
“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 
you turn, “megumi—“ 
“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 
and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 
“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 
tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.
“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 
“maybe.” 
“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”
“guys—“ 
“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 
“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 
“why are you always—“ 
“guys.” 
they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 
you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 
why would they when they can just keep arguing?
you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 
really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 
harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 
plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 
“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 
“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.
you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 
“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 
it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 
you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 
you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”
“break,” megumi says, immediately.
“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 
for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.
“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 
they both glare at each other. 
“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 
tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 
you both look at megumi, waiting. 
he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 
“megumi.” 
he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 
“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 
you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”
you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 
he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 
tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 
you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 
both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 
you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 
the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.
“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 
megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 
“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 
“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 
okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 
“chiyo's my friend!” 
megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 
“but you were mean.” 
you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 
“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“
“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  
you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.
“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 
“maybe they just suck.” 
“they don’t suck. this is—“
and then it all breaks down.
“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”
you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."
the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 
he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 
"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 
"by yelling at each other?" 
you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 
you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.
megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 
their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 
tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 
but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 
"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 
and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 
but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 
you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 
you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 
and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 
so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 
she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 
it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.
"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 
"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 
he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 
he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 
you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 
"we're communicating." 
"whatever."
satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 
"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 
"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 
"and neither will your parenting skills." 
satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 
"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 
satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 
"satoru." 
"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 
you look at him blandly. 
satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 
obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.
satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 
you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 
*
you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 
it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 
but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 
and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 
still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 
but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 
you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 
satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 
"well, i taught him that." 
satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 
"of course you didn't." 
he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 
"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 
"who?" 
you frown. "chiyo?" 
satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."
you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  
satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 
"behind her back?" 
satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 
"oh." 
"yeah, oh." 
you frown. “what did they say?”
satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”
you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”
satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 
you shake your head at him, tsking. 
you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 
so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 
it's a very unpleasant feeling. 
"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 
"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 
and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.
after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 
*
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
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idk if you’re familiar with teen wolf but could i request a fic with loser!Luke who’s similar to Stiles stilinski and aphrodite!reader is similar to lydia. No one sees that reader is more than a pretty cabin 10 girl and idk i think it would be cute if luke recreates the “hi y/n, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me” ugh loser!luke just gives me too much in my feelings
𝒫ℴ𝓅𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇
I LOVE LOSER LUKE AND TEEN WOLF AHHH
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Has she even looked your way?” Chris asked, listening to his brother's fantasies. The two walked through the woods, bags slung over their shoulders.
“A few times. She talks to me when we spar.” He shrugged, “and when we check cabins together.”
“Mmm… right, and in those few times she’s become interested in you? You have to make some sort of effort.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” He joked; Chris chuckled.
“Because she’s Aphrodite’s favorite, she’s the most popular girl at camp, almost every guy wants to be with her, and every girl admires her. She beats you in sword fighting from time to time and she’s a God at archery.”
“I still gotta chance. And she does not beat me in sword fighting.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“Mhm..”
He nudged Chris and asked him, “what about you? You got your eyes on anyone?”
“Nah.” He shook his head.
The two continued chatting and walking, when Luke saw someone coming up quickly in the corner of his eye.
Chris nudged him this time, raising his eyebrows.
“Hey y/n, you look…” Luke began to say, but you just walked past him, not acknowledging him.
“Like you’re gonna ignore me.” He mumbled to himself, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as Chris laughed at him.
“Shut up.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at Chris.
And it was just his luck that you were heading to the same spot as him.
The ocean was a common spot for campers to get away and escape. It was a long walk there but it was worth it, it was beautiful and it was quiet.
But today was Sunday, most kids would be having fun with their friends and taking this day off. You were heading there to practice.
Soon, they had reached it and they saw you already there, ready with your bow in hand. There was a few targets on the trees. They watched you, looking like dears in headlights when you turned to look at them.
“Can I help you..?” You asked them, slightly annoyed.
“No. No. Sorry.” Chris said, grabbing Luke’s arm and dragging him as far as possible and onto the sand.
“She’s so…” he mumbled to himself, as he took off his shirt and turned back to face you. He took off his jeans, his shorts underneath.
You furrowed an eyebrow as you saw him, he messed up your shot as you turned to look at him. Jesus, he was ripped. You thought.
“You have it bad, you know that? She’s not even using charmspeak.” Chris replied. “Turn back around, you look creepy.”
Luke obliged, turning to look at Chris now as he took off his own shirt and jeans, his swimming shorts underneath.
The two raced to the water, jumping in. Luke had won, the two laughing.
You focused on your shooting, however. Trying your best to ignore the pair. They swam around, racing each other while talking loudly. They then sat down on the sand, shaking their heads and wet curls.
You sat down against a tree, downing your water. Chris began talking but Luke wasn't listening. He watched you, and Chris smirked at him.
"Go talk to her."
"What?" he asked, as if it was the craziest thing he's ever heard.
"Go talk to her, man."
"About what?"
"Just talk to her." he shrugged, softly pushing Luke.
"Alright, alright." He said, standing up. and slowly walking towards you. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small smile and sat next to you. You took in a deep breath.
"Hi." He said.
"Hi..."
Now that you were looking at him more closely, he wasn't bad looking, not at all.
"It's uh, y/n, right?"
You nodded. But you knew that he already knew that. "Its Luke, isn't it?"
Holy shit you knew his name. He was trying to contain a smile, his heart raced. He nodded slowly, and you laughed quietly as you noticed him staring at you.
"Well? Did you need something or just my name, gorgeous?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his eyes went wide. Oh my God, you called him gorgeous. He didn't know what to say. You smiled and tilted your head at him, waiting on a response.
"No, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Just... Yeah, I'm gonna go, it was nice talking to you." He said, standing up, and almost tripping as he ran back to Chris.
What an interesting boy, you thought to yourself as you stared at him, and when he turned back you gave him a small smile, a pink tint on his face.
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eldritch-nightmare · 6 months
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Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)
-💫Anon
a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.
how do they react after an argument?
includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.
warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.
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JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.
if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.
LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.
he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.
SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.
slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.
NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.
she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?
EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.
and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.
JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.
if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.
CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.
but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?
CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.
you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.
TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.
once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.
NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.
since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.
X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.
he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.
KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.
when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.
JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.
you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.
THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.
and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.
HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.
he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.
SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.
and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.
THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.
once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.
THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.
the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.
ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.
and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.
HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.
he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.
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