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#I hope at least one of you enjoyed reading this
rootbeerworshiper · 23 hours
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means something
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure
warnings: angst lol
a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different
love, sienna <3
you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.
but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.
‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.
it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.
but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.
he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.
that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.
April 17th, 2022
dear Matt,
i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.
it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.
i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.
how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.
“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.
“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.
it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.
“wait someone sent the letters?”
“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”
“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”
the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”
“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.
“i thought you’d come around Matt”
now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.
along with this, i know everything about you.
i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.
i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.
i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.
i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.
whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.
“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.
he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”
i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”
“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”
i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.
you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.
how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?
i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.
we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.
“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.
“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.
“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”
“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”
“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.
but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.
it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”
it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.
i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.
you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?
i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.
that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.
i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.
this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.
i just have one question for you.
did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.
i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.
but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.
anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.
i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.
thanks for listening, y/n.
you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.
it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.
regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.
a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia
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A Dance in Death
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Title: A Dance in Death
Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Word Count: ~3,927
In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.
A/N: This is a part 2 of sorts to my previous Alastor x reader fic, Doubt, but it can also be read as its own individual fic! Hope you enjoy :)
Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things. 
One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.
That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?
Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.
And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night. 
You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.
Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.
Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.
The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting. 
His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.
He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.
As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.
You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”
You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”
With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”
You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”
There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”
A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.
At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.
When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.
Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.
It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.
But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place. 
You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.
“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”
Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”
“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”
The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”
“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”
Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”
You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.
“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”
The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”
“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”
You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face. 
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”
The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”
Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”
You suddenly felt very exposed.
You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes. 
You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.
Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight. 
“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”
“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.
“Precisely,” Alastor said.
Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.” 
She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”
At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”
With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.
Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”
The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.
Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.
You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.
“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted. 
The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”
You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.
You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.
“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.
You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.
You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”
The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”
You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”
The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor. 
Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.
You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music. 
You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.
A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.
No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.
You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”
~~~
If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.
Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.
Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.
One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.
The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.
When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.
It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.
Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better. 
You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened. 
“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”
“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.
You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”
Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust. 
You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”
At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”
“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”
“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.
He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture. 
Not everyone was as lucky as you were.
But that wasn’t why you were upset. 
As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.
But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.
You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”
You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.
“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”
“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.
The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”
You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.
You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.
“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”
You were met with silence. 
But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.
It was lovely.
But oh, how you wished it were really him.
The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.
Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.
“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated. 
Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.” 
He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.
And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him. 
You should have done lots of things.
What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush. 
You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.
Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.
Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”
The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand. 
You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place. 
He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.
With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.
You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”
Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”
You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.
You couldn’t have asked for anything more.
~~~
If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.
Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.
Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?
Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.
You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.
Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.
But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night. 
An Overlord and a sinner. 
A woman and a man. 
Two damned souls, finding home at last.
A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!
Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!
Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx
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xxchumanixx · 2 days
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Hii, can you write one with reader that is Tim’s rookie, she is really flirty and an extrovert with him, but one day she sets him up, like Lucy did. He gets upset because he feels like she led him on and then he starts a full on love confession because she is the one he wants. And then smut, very sweet with her kinda dom but both of them are switch
Lead me on
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Tim Bradford x rookie!reader
Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight fingering, fluff, angst, hurt
Word count: tba (not entirely proof read yet)
Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Really liked the idea, and I hope you'll like how I wrote it. Im glad to find my way back to writing your requests and I hope that I'll be a bit quicker with posting again!
Now, enjoy!
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Tim had noticed that you were lost in thought, for the third time this shift.
He'd seen you chew on your bottom lip, worrying about you drawing crimson, so hard you'd bitten down on the soft cushion.
It made him wonder what had you so deeply thinking, as he bit on his own lip.
"Everything okay?" he breached the silence, only then noticing how heavy it had been weighing in the air between you. Looking up from the dark display of your phone, you nodded.
"I'm just thinking about something, nothing important." you tried to soothe his worry, sending him a small smile that was meant to reassure him.
He cocked a brow, reading you like an open book. "Don't lie to me, boot."
You hated the nickname, instead wanting him to call you different names - very different ones.
Swallowing, you looked back down. You had to at least test it, see how he'd react. So you gathered all your nerves, reminding yourself, that you wanted to do this as a prank.
It was meant to be funny, after all.
"You said I could be open with you." you began, fumbling with your phone in your hands. He nodded, motioning for you to continue, as you hesitated.
"I have feelings for you."
The shop skidded to a stop on the empty street, as he suddenly slammed the breaks, the seat belt holding you firmly in place. Shock was clear as day on his face, as he looked at you, before he gathered himself enough to park at the sidewalk.
You had to be out of your damn mind, he thought, his heart - unbeknownst to him - matching the racing of yours.
The sudden movement when he stopped the car again, almost had you laughing despite everything, ruining the prank. But the shock on his face, made you swallow.
Maybe he wouldn't find it as funny as you would do. At least you hoped you would at the end of the day.
"Wait-" he asked of you, his tongue brushing over his lower lip in uneasiness. He didn't know how to react properly, you had hit him like a truck with your confession.
"Y/N-" he began, taking a deep breath, as he tried to make sense of the situation, get a hold of it. "Look, you're a beautiful woman - really you are. But you're my rookie, a-and-" he had to stop himself, biting his lip.
This had to be a bad joke.
You did the same, your lip hurting as you bit down to stop yourself from laughing, teeth almost drawing blood. Even if you actually had feelings for him, the moment he would find out you're pranking him, would still be priceless.
The silence grew tense, as the playfulness of the situation slowly faded, though.
Maybe you shouldn't have done this.
He swallowed, you heard it. "Tim-" "Y/N-" you interrupted each other, both closing your mouths.
"I'll go first." you decided before he was able to speak up again, taking a shaky breath. "It was a prank - or at least it was supposed to be one. It should have been funny, but it wasn't. I'm sorry."
He inhaled sharply, as he abruptly turned his head away from you.
That was not how you expected him to react.
Swallowing, you kneaded your hands, the phone tugged away under your thigh. Were you supposed to say something?
Before you could, though, he turned back around sharply, gaze hardened as he fumed silently, with his tongue nudging against the inside of his cheek.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he then suddenly snapped, causing you to flinch in your seat.
Yeah, you had definitely crossed a line there.
He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself in case he would miss when the radio turned on - failing miserably.
"What do you mean you wanted to prank me? Telling me that you have feelings for me, practically running me over like a bus with your confession! What did you think you were doing? What did you expect?"
You were taken aback by his sudden outburst, not sure how to react. Or how to make up for it, if you'd get out of this alive in the first place.
"I-I-" you stuttered, looking down on your fidgeting hands. "I didn't mean to upset you like that, really. I thought you'd find it funny."
His brows twitched, as did his mouth. He felt like you'd just ran him over again with that damn bus.
"But it isn't." he stated, gaze fixed on you. "It isn't funny. For a moment I thought you'd mean what you said. But then you tell me it's a prank."
He almost sounded hurt, somehow.
Turning away from him, you bit on your cheek, the flesh already raw from all the biting. It was a nervous habit of yours, one you weren't able to get rid of.
Your cheeks burned, most likely turning a deep shade of red.
Honestly, you had expected a lot, but not this.
Lucy had told you how he reacted when she did it - okay, maybe it wasn't original to copy her prank, but she told you how funny it was, so you thought what could go wrong?
A lot, apparently.
But why did he react so differently now?
You were a mere inch away from leaving the car, quitting your job. It was so embarrassing, and you were sure you'd never recover from this.
The silence grew more tense the more time passed, as neither of you knew what to say.
Would he report you? Get you fired? He had your fate in his hands, after all.
"I'm sorry." you pressed out through clenched teeth, trying to not burst into tears. The fact that he reacted that way, made you even more insecure about your feelings for him.
If he'd react like this, getting angry at you, when you'd tell him honestly, you didn't know what you would do.
He forced the car to move again, angrily shifting it into drive, before you drove down the quiet street.
He didn't even react to you trying to apologize.
Breathing in shakily, you looked out at the street, straightening your posture. You had to be attentive. If you'd miss anything, it surely wouldn't help his sour mood.
For a while it was quiet, and for the first time since you drove with Tim, you were happy about your shift ending soon, as the sun settled.
When he parked the car in the garage, you hastily climbed out, opening the trunk to gather the bags and guns. He stayed in his seat, only leaving the car when you closed the trunk again.
Without sparing him another glance, you walked to the output, handing Jerry the items with a forced smile.
The old man didn't know what happened, so you tried to be as calm as possible.
Walking to the locker room, you hurried to get changed, stuffing your things into your backpack, before you slung it over your shoulder.
You didn't wait for Lucy, as you'd normally would when your shifts ended at the same time, instead walking straight towards the exit.
How would the following day get? Would he stay angry at you? Would he ask to be replaced as your TO?
You desperately hoped not, even if you'd never be able to look into his eyes again.
Wiping at your eyes, you put the backpack on the passenger's seat, slamming the door shut, before walking around the car to get inside.
"Y/N!" you heard someone call out your name, panicking as you realized it was Tim, who'd been standing at his truck, now walking towards you.
You hadn't seen him before in the darkness of the parking lot.
It was out of instinct, that you climbed inside the car, starting it, before you hastily moved out of the parking lot.
He knew you'd heard him, your eyes had found his after he'd called out to you. That you were ignoring him now, driving past him, as he stood speechless where your car had been parked, caused his heart to crack.
Had he scared you off?
He was sure he'd upset you, there was no denying it, but that you simply ignored him and chose to flee instead, made him feel all the more insecure.
His heartbeat felt cold in his chest, as he gripped the straps of his backpack tighter.
He had to follow you.
And so he did.
After a few turns, you saw his headlights behind you - his car familiar enough to recognize them. Groaning, you tried to concentrate on the street, ignoring him for the moment, as your heart picked up its pace and your hands began to sweat.
When you eventually parked in your driveway, he parked right behind you, effectively blocking your car, so there was no way for you to escape him again.
Or better yet, flee again.
Now angry, you got out of your car, walking straight towards him as he did the same.
"What do you want?" you asked, frustration seeping out of your pores. "I want to talk." he gave back just as evenly frustrated, stopping a few feet away from you. "I wanted to talk back at the parking lot, but you just drove away."
Your cheeks grew uncomfortably hot, gaze shifting from Tim to the ground beneath him. It seemed so ridiculous to you now, the way you chose to flee instead of letting him confront you.
He would have either way.
A humorless chuckle left you, followed by another. "And now?" you wanted to know, looking back up at him with crossed arms. "Do you want me to tell you I'm sorry? I already did. It was just a stupid prank, I don't even know why you followed me or what you wanna talk about."
Your self defenses flickered to life, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.
His jaw ticked, teeth gritting.
"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked, shaking his head as a look you weren't able to place passed over his features. "Did you lead me on?"
Your brows knitted together in confusion, not fully understanding him. "What do you mean, leading you on?"
He huffed, taking a small step closer, causing you to swallow at the nerves bubbling up inside you, trying to fight them.
"I mean the constant flirting, the way you talk to me." he started to explain, taking another step closer. "The way your hand would brush mine, a simple touch so irrelevant, yet so important. The way you made me-"
He cut himself off, the sentence being left hanging in the air. But you wanted to know the rest of it, wanted to know why he was saying these things.
"Made you what?" you demanded to know, head tilting as your brows furrowed even more.
The light on your porch went out, engulfing you in darkness, but with a flick of your hand it came back to life, illuminating his features in the golden hue again.
Illuminating how painfully handsome he was.
Instead of answering your question, he decided otherwise.
"I believed you, when you told me you have feelings for me." he began, swallowing, as one of his hands balled into a fist at his side. "I believed you and I hoped for it to be true. But then you tell me it's a prank - I-"
He cut himself off again, shaking his head in disappointment, as his eyes looked away. He bit his lip, tearing at the soft cushion so hard, it almost ripped.
Meanwhile, your heart seemed to have caught on fire. You didn't quite get what he wanted to say, yet, but your body grew warmer, the more he spoke.
He ignited the smallest flame of hope inside you. It licked at your heartstrings dangerously, threatening to burn you at any moment.
"I got defensive, pushing you away." he eventually continued, looking back up. The fire in his eyes seemed diminished, their light faded.
"I was angry - to be honest I still am. I wanted to wait for your training to be over, before I- Before I would ask you out on a date."
Your breath hitched in your throat, body involuntarily taking a step back, as the force of his words hit you, setting the small flame ablaze. It momentarily knocked the air out of your lungs, the blood pumping loudly in your ears.
You must have misheard him - that was the only explanation.
He had planned to ask you out on a date?
Tears welled up in your eyes, a horrible realization settling in your stomach, quickly drowning the growing flame: you had scared him off, hurt his feelings.
It was a feeling you didn't like - not at all.
You wanted to say something, but he was faster.
"All this time I thought your flirts and the things you did were intentional, had a meaning. But now I know, that I was wrong. All you did was lead me on, making me believe that you felt the same way, but I was wrong."
"Tim-" you dared to speak up, interrupting him as you took a step back towards him. The words got stuck in your throat, though.
Would he even believe you?
He shook his head, biting his cheek, drawing blood. But he didn't even flinch at the sting it brought, instead breathing it in, to distract him from the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.
"I was so excited, because I was happy that your training is over soon." he continued, breathing in through his nose deeply, as his voice shook the slightest bit. "I was excited, because the waiting would have finally been over. But - again - I was wrong. I have feelings for you, and you decided to make my heart leap out of my chest, just so you could crush it all in the same breath."
You felt like he'd slapped you across the face. His words send a chill down your spine, knowing that he wouldn't easily forgive you, if he even would in the first place.
"Made you what?" you rasped out, choking on your tears as you demanded an answer for your earlier question. He tensed, swallowing, before he finally answered.
"Made me fall in love with you."
One of the tears spilled, followed by another and another. Eyes closing, your head hang low. His confession was what you had hoped to hear for the last months, almost a year, yet it crushed you, groping at you with iron claws.
One stupid prank had ruined everything.
Eyes opening again, you lifted them, meeting his. His gaze was glued to you, even when you hadn't been looking at him. He seemed like he demanded an answer, yet fearing what it would be.
"You are in love with me?" you choked out, hands trembling. Your heart nearly stumbled, having trouble to believe him, but he nodded.
"I'm in love with you, too." you confessed, even though it might have been too late now. "Have been for almost a year now."
Something flashed through his eyes, the light of your porch going out again, before he brought it back to life with a wave if his arm.
Suddenly, he was way closer than before, having used the moment of distraction.
"Say it again." he breathed out, hope making his eyes glitter. "I'm in love with you." you repeated, relishing in the way it made his eyes flutter closed briefly. "Again." he whispered, hands finding yours.
"I'm in love with you, Tim Bradford."
He inhaled sharply, his grip on your hands tightening. "Why did you prank me?" he wanted to know, reigniting the guilt inside you. Sighing, you looked down.
"It was Lucy's idea." you admitted, biting your tear stained lip, tasting the salt. "She told me about how she did it last year, so I thought I could test the waters with it. But you reacted so badly, that I decided to leave it as a prank, not telling you the real intention I had."
"I wanted to be the first." he spoke, tugging at your hands slightly, pulling you closer, as your eyes found their way back to his. "I wanted to ask you out on a date, tell you how I feel. I wanted it to be something special."
Swallowing, you nodded. Your eyes flickered to his lips, his breath on your own.
"Then make it something special." you said, voice husky.
You didn't have to tell him twice, as his lips found yours in an eager kiss. You inhaled him, as you kissed him back. Your hands entangled from his, finding his neck instead. His own grabbed your waist, tugging you closer.
The wood scraped against your back, as he pushed you against the front door of your house, demanding entrance with his tongue.
You greedily let him in, fumbling for your keys, as you did so, coming up with nothing.
His fingers impatiently brushed your pants pocked, eliciting a hushed giggle from you, as he fumbled for your keys.
"God damn it." he grumbled, braking apart from you, as he didn't find them either. Your brows furrowed, as he jogged to your car, ripping the door open and retrieving the key.
In your hurry to get to him, you had left it in the ignition.
Brushing the hair out of your face, you huffed as he held it up, locking your car, before he stepped around you, opening the door to let you both in.
The intensity of the situation was thick, palpable, as he closed the door behind you, not wasting any time to pull you back to him, his lips back on yours.
He blindly walked you backwards into the open living, kitchen and dining area. Your hips hit the dining table, causing the few things on it to rattle and shake. His hands gripped your thighs, helping you to sit on it.
Yours found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards, as he did the same with yours. Your arms tangled, causing you to break apart.
His eyes narrowed, as he tugged at your shirt meaningfully, but you were too stubborn to let him go first, as you tugged as well.
You stared each other in the eyes, both too stubborn and dominant to give in. His head dipped down, lips finding your neck. He began to suck, causing your eyes to flutter closed, as you momentarily lost focus.
He used the distraction to remove your hands, tugging the shirt over your head.
You huffed breathlessly, realizing how he had distracted you to go first. He chuckled, sending you a smirk that sent sparks down to your core, making your legs weak.
Removing his shirt as well, you let it fall to the floor, before his lips found your neck again, kissing downwards and over the swell of your breasts, as he pushed you down on the table.
Your breathing faltered, as one of his large hands cupped one of your breasts through the fabric of your bra. His thumb brushed over the covered nipple, making you shiver at the distant sensation.
Suppressing a moan, you pushed up on your elbows, as he unfastened your bra, throwing it on the floor, as his mouth attached to one of the hardened peaks.
His tongue swirled around it, tearing a gasp from you, the pleasure sent straight to your core.
Grabbing his shoulder, you pushed him back. He looked at you with confusion, tilting his head, but you continued pushing, until he was sitting down on the chair beside him, as realization struck him.
Chuckling in amusement, he adjusted so he was sitting more comfortably, eagerly reaching for you as you straddled his lap.  
Your hands found his bare chest, tracing over the muscles that contracted underneath your fingertips at the touch. His hands found your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 
His breathing hitched, as you rolled against his covered erection with your jeans clad core. His grip on you tightened, most likely leaving marks.  
He guided you, as you did it again, softly moaning at the bit of friction it gave you. Pushing down as you did it over and over again, he tried to increase the pressure, his hard-on painfully straining against the fabric of his pants.  
He liked your dominant nature, often having imagined what you’d act like in a situation like this, with unholy thoughts filtering through his mind.  
"Fuck." Tim muttered, hazy from the friction, yet unsatisfied. He tried to regain the upper hand, but you wouldn't let him. Chuckling into his ear, you teased the shell of it with your tongue, his hard-on rocking into you, as he shuddered in response.
Fuck, you were dominant, but so was he.
Letting you continue your movement, he tugged at the button on your jeans, opening it, before he grabbed your ass, causing you to moan into his ear, as he temporarily lost focus at the heavenly sound.
He took you with him as he stood, causing you to yelp slightly in surprise, as he put you back on the table, pushing your down on it, so you were lying on it.
He didn't have the patience to move to another room or surface, as he unzipped your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your panties.
Gasping as the cold air hit your wet cunt, you watched him strip his remaining clothes as well.
He was gorgeous, for all he was worth. Shaped in just the right way, no matter which part of his body.
His lips found yours, as he leaned over you, his fingers parting your folds to collect some of your arousal, before he used it to rub your clit in delicate circles.
You moaned at the feeling, arching into him, as one of his fingers slipped inside you, soon followed by a second, pumping in and out of you, preparing you for his cock, eliciting beautiful sounds from you in which he bathed.
He watched your face as it contorted, teetering on the brink of your first orgasm. Just as you almost made it over the edge, he removed his fingers, using the remaining liquid on them to stroke his cock, aligning it with your entrance.
You fell down the cliff, but on the wrong side, as the build up tension slowly subsided again, leaving you deeply unsatisfied.
He teased you, brushing through your folds with the tip, barely pushing inside. It made you see stars, as you desperately pleaded for more - a stark contrast to the dominance you had emitted only moments ago.
He liked the sound of that even more.
Your pleas were fulfilled, as he suddenly pushed inside, stretching you deliciously. He slowly inched forward, groaning at how tight you gripped him.
You believed to burst, when he filled you to the brim, his hips meeting yours in a chaste kiss, as the tip of his cock lightly brushed your cervix. You moaned, not having expected him to be this big.
His lips attached to your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping, as he waited for your go, hips rutting into you the slightest bit, as he had struggle to compose himself, now that he was finally buried inside your heat.
Your fingertips brushed his nipple and he jerked forward, eyes meeting yours, as you grinned up at him. Shaking his head, he took it as his signal to finally move.
He slid out of your dripping cunt slowly, before he pushed back inside with a snap of his hips, causing you to choke on a breath, gasping afterwards.
His lips parted in a strangled moan, at the way you clenched around him, dragging him closer to the edge with each thrust. He pulled back out, but you clenched down on him on purpose, causing him to rut right back inside you, before he even had a chance to really pull out.
He shook his head at you, laughing quietly, as he smirked down at you.
Two can play this game.
His lips found your nipple, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth, all the while slowly rocking in and out of you. The pace was brutally soft, teasing you to the brink of tears, as his tongue flicked over the hardened peak.
"Tim..." you breathed out desperately, heels digging into his back to make him move faster. He smirked against your nipple, but complied, as he picked up the pace.
Soon he was pounding into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spongy spot that made you moan his name with each thrust, believing to see stars. You were a panting and moaning mess under him, fully subjected to him.
He groaned and moaned into your ear, as he chased your releases, trying to hold back until you would be coming. His pace was relentless, as he fucked into you, the objects on the table soon tipping over, but neither of you cared.
"I'm close." you announced out of breath, though gasping, as he hit that one spot again. His lips found yours, as his fingers ghosted down your body and to where you were connected, parting your folds to find your clit.
He rubbed circles on it and you cried out, coming hard on his cock. Clenching down on him, you made it even harder for him to move, dragging him over the edge with you, as he moaned your name in bliss.
His warmth filled you up, as he stilled, harshly breathing as he tried to calm his racing heart. Yours seemed like it would never stop racing, lung desperately burning for air.
"Wow." you breathed, still feeling a bit dizzy. He smiled down at you, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face.
"Yeah."
You fell silent for a moment, as his eyes searched yours for any sign of regret. But he found none.
"I want you." he admitted, clearing his throat as he shifted his weight on top of you. "I want to go on a date with you."
His words caused you to smile up at him, the happiness spreading through you as you still glowed from your high.
He believed he'd never seen anything this beautiful before.
"I want that too." you admitted, nodding. "I want to go out with you, even if we have to hide for the rest of my training."
His face fell slightly, only then remembering your current situation, before he nodded as well, pecking your lips. "I'm willing to hide with you." he spoke, his hips connecting with yours again as he rocked forward, earning a gasp from you.
He chuckled, lips brushing over your cheek.
"And then, when your training is over and you're officially a p2, we won't have to hide anymore." he continued, kissing down your jaw and to your neck, butterflies erupting in your stomach.
"I will tell everyone that you're mine."
Your body shivered pleasantly at his words, sighing in bliss. "I like that idea."
"Good, 'cause now you'll never get rid of me again." he promised you, looking back up into your eyes.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
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Tag List
@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm
@rookietrek @augustvandyne
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luvjoshuahong · 3 days
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birthday proposal - csc
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☆ cast: bf!seungcheol x fem!reader (ft. roommate/bsf!seungkwan) ☆ tags: fluff. a little kissing and slight cursing. also mentions of readers past boyfriends being terrible people. ☆ wordcount: 481 ☆ a/n: April 17 aka my birthday! I've been stressed recently that's why i've been incative but hope you enjoy! ps.. lowercase intended and slightly proofreadㅤㅤ
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"happy birthday my love!", you hear your boyfriend seungcheol say as he runs into your room. being hunched up on your desk all week trying to finish a report your boss asked for made you lose track of time. how is it my birthday already? i thought it was next week.
seungcheol takes you into a warm hug which you had just realized you very much needed until suddenly he starts tackling you with kisses until you both fall onto your bed. "cheol!", you scream while laughing.
"i know how you always say you're not excited for your birthday because your family always ruined it for you so that's why i asked seungkwan to let me in secretly", he says with excitement.
sometimes you wonder how your roommate, seungkwan, and your boyfriend, seungcheol, become friends. seungkwan was always cold with your boyfriends knowing how your exes have treated you terribly. it came as a shock to you when seungkwan warmed up to seungcheol rather quickly. either way, you're glad your best friend and the love of your life are good friends knowing how long you have been dating seungcheol.
"oh! right, i can't forget your gifts",
gifts? as in more than one? you know seungcheol comes from a wealthy family but you had no idea he was going to spend so much on you. maybe you can scold him another time for spending so much for you but you just don't have the heart to when he's so excited to give you them.
"here are some dresses i knew you would look beautiful in.. oh and some lip gloss since you mentioned you ran out of your favorite recently", your jaw drops lower and lower as seungcheol pulls out so many things for you that look so expensive you couldn't even guess the price of them.
"and i got you one last thing, i wanted to show you last to make it special", suddenly he drops to one knee and opens a box to reveal a stunning diamond ring.
you stand there in shock which starts to worry seungcheol. "is there something wrong? do you not want to get married now? is it too soon? shit, i'm so sorry i should have talked to you about it before—" you shut him up by kissing him and start tearing up. "cheol, how could i ever say no to someone like you. you're perfect in every way and treat me in a way that no one ever has before",
"and i'm so sorry for pausing and scaring you, i didn't know you also had marriage in mind.", seungcheol just looks at you with his dimpled smile with a sparkle in his eyes.
"i love you, i'm so happy you said yes. i can't wait to live the rest of my life with you", he says while giving you a kiss on your head.
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☆ end notes: thank you for reading to the end! I don't expect my birthday to be well but at least I got a cute coups fic out of this<3
☆ special mentions: @luvleejihoon @joshuaahong. thank you harin and soojin who were motivating me while writing this and thank you soojin for uploading these cheol pics on Pinterest for me to use 🫶
masterlist | taglist | rules | carrd | help palestine by: @luvjoshuahong
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blonde-bbunny · 2 days
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fucking matt in the kitchen
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hi bb's. i'm new here. I hope you all enjoy this because lowkey I think it eats.
warnings: just smut, I am not responsible for your media consumption, please read at your own risk. sex, wet and slutty kisses, teasing biting and hair pulling, Matt grabs the reader's jaw and shakes it once. Matt is bossy, the reader is just heart-eyes and soft. He eats it from the back. unprotected sex (he nuts inside) that's bad don't do it!! Mild rough sex antics, reader calls Matt daddy once. she's def a pillow princess in this, assume she's sleepy af. it's pretty yum. if I made a mistake my baddd
“Mmm,” you whined while Matt hoisted you up onto the counter in his kitchen, almost all of the lights were off except for the the blue light shining from the tv in the living room that was playing a movie the two of you had abandoned at least an hour ago when Matt had pulled you by your ankle to sit in his lap.
“What’re you whining for angel” he teased while tipping your chin back back to nibble on your neck and press a sloppy kiss to the side of your jaw. His lips slid across your cheek while he grabbed onto your hair and tipped your head back so he could continue his assault on your neck. Your nails scratched his scalp lightly while you mewled at his rough kisses. One of your ankles pressed into his lower back in an attempt to bring him closer than he already was while he pulled back and stared at you with a pretty little grin,
“I wan’ you to kiss me,' ' you whined while pulling him closer by his shoulders, he grinned against your cheek and chuckled at your desperate state. The two of you had just made out lazily on the couch for upwards of twenty minutes, and it was obvious from the slight redness all over your face from his stubble that had been scratching your face. Matt’s hand slid up your sleep shirt, his cold fingers grazing your ribs and belly before he squeezed your soft boob and teased your nipple with a rough tug that made your back arch,
“So needy,” he joked while he snaked his hand between your legs and cupped your warm pussy, his thumb stimulating your clit softly. You craned your neck up to show him you weren’t joking, to which he leaned in and kissed you. His tongue flicked against yours while parted your lips a little wider to let him push his tongue all the way in, spit connected your lips while you pulled back from the makeout with a spacy grin. Matt pecked your lips two more times before he gripped tightly onto your thigh and messed with the panties that covered you from him, the tip of his finger pressed against your dripping hole. 
“Get up baby,” he said while taking your jaw into his hand and slightly shaking you, smiling at the way you had become so spacy and the way your eyes were glazed over for him, you hopped off the counter and back onto the ground. Guessing what he wanted you to do you placed your body over the counter, shirt covered tits pressing to the cold marble island, you arched your back slightly to give him a better view and stood on your tippy toes in a teasing manner,
“Like this?” you smiled while looking over your shoulder at your man who was pushing your shirt farther up your back and grasping your ass, his palm struck the fat of your ass, which pushed a happy yelp from out of your lips. Matt spanked your ass a few more times before soothing it with his hand softly,
“When’d you become such a slut for me huh?” he asked teasingly, his fingers tapping your lips in the effort to have you answer him. You took the opportunity to nibble his pointer finger that had pushed into your mouth before you answered him,
“Love being your slut daddy,” you whined while he pushed the shirt you were wearing up your back, revealing your soft skin to him. Matt hummed in agreement while he leant down to press open mouth kisses to your spine, his bulge was pressed to your ass as he did so. He pressed kisses behind your ear, before lightly scratching behind your ear with his front teeth, 
“Pleaseeee Matt,” you whined while he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties and pulled them off of you, you kicked them away when they reached your ankles.
“Gonna be good?” he teased, you heard him drop to his knees and he spread your pussy a little, which already had you bucking back into his face, “Yea,” you melwed and turned around to look at him, fingers going to his messy hair. 
“Yea good girl,” he agreed, his middle finger pressed into your wet hole and his tongue started lapping at your clit. Matt roughly fucked your hole with his fingers until you relaxed on him, soaking his chin and his shirt when he pressed his nose and mouth into your pussy to tease your clit. 
“Let me see your pretty face,” Matt smiled while he worked an orgasm out of you, one of his hands squeezed your ass while you lifted yourself up. His hand cradled your face, thumb brushing across your cheek and lips. You pressed a kiss to his thumb and rubbed your hands across his back, hands slipping up his shirt just to feel him. Matt hummed lightly at your soft touches before he leaned in close, kissing you again. This time a little messier and softer, parting your lips and your teeth bumped together in an attempt to pull him closer.
"I love you so much," you whispered against his cheek while he lead you back over to the couch, his hands gripping your hips while he sat you down on the couch, "love you baby," he said while pulling your shirt off you. Hands gripping your sides while he pulled himself out of his sweats, his hard cock pressing against his belly before he pulled his sweats under his balls. You licked your palm lightly and spit into your hand before reaching out to grab his cock, his skin hot against your palm while you started squeezing him and jerking him slowly. Matt closed his eyes and groaned at the stimulation, loving the way you twist your wrist. Slowly you you flipped onto your tummy so his dick hovered above your nose, you flattened your tongue against his tip and sucked him in. Matt slapped his cock against your tongue while you teased him, staring up at him with doe eyes. You took him back into your throat, he thrusted lightly into your mouth, fucking your throat.
He had you propped up against the arm of the couch, legs spread open for him while he positioned himself between your thighs and ran his head through your wet pussy before bottoming out. You moaned at the stretch and he leaned down to kiss you, tapping your face lightly when he fucked you deeper,
"Fuck you feel so good," he moaned, looking down to see where you were connected, his hair falling into his eyes. Your legs wrapped around his lower back while he slightly laid his body on top of you,
"Deeper," you breathed out, arching slightly and pressing your heels into him to pull you closer, "So tight pretty girl,' he moaned while rutting harder into you and doing what you asked, he went deeper. Your eyes rolled back while he fucked you deep, drawing pretty moans out of you while he touched you anywhere he could and played with your clit.
"I feel you clenching around me," he rasped, one of your legs now resting on his shoulder while he changed his angle. You nodded your head rapidly, focusing on his thrusts while you shivered, letting yourself go.
"You want it inside dirty girl?" Matt teased while he leant down to kiss you, "ask for it"
"Please Matt," you hiccuped, he was fucking you faster and rougher now, "Want you to cum inside me, I want it so bad," you begged and pressed your hands to his stomach.
"Fuck your so beautiful," he groaned while laying himself onto you, you started kissing down his neck, "Im gonna cum inside you," he huffed while he released, filling your cunt up with him.
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awakeskydoesntdraw · 2 days
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Posting in this blog after an eternity because I feel like I'm going insane here and my friends are asleep so I need to dump my brainstorm SOMEWHERE (SPOILERS FOR ARLECCHINO'S BACKSTORY/SHORT ANIMATION!!)
The TLDR is basically I think that the whole story with Arlecchino and Clervie is foreshadowing for whatever is about to happen with Lyney and Lynette
I think the parallels between Lyney and Arle don't need to be too explained for the most part. Pyro Visions, Arle wants him to be the next "king" while he doesn't seem to be too into that idea just like her younger self didn't want it, both are associated with Rainbow Roses (they both use them as ascension materials)
Plus, I'd argue they look kinda similar here. I'm not sure exactly what is that makes the resemblance, maybe a bit of the hair, bowtie and shorts and you could say it's something she has with the others too (her kid design resembles Freminet, current one Lynette) but I thought it was good to mention anyways
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Meanwhile, Lynette and Clervie are the two closest companions to their respective pair
Lynette's has Lumidouce Bells as an ascension material. Clervie is very clearly represented with the same flower (if her necklace wasn't enough, there's this)
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Plus, a bit of a smaller connection, but they both have clear sweet tooths
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(Lyney saying "we talked about this" implies this is a frequent event. The animation showing Clervie with cake twice while it only had 7 minutes to tell the whole story has a similar effect)
So, if Lyney is a parallel to Arle while Lynette is a parallel to Clervie, where does this leave us?
Well... Not exactly in a good spot-
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To be fair, I don't think Genshin would actually kill a playable character (or at least, so I hope), but it's very possible Lynette gets really hurt, either directly by Lyney or by being close to him
Arlecchino swore to be nothing like her mother, but in the end, the way she's acting towards Lyney by wanting to make him the next king may be very similar to it
Once upon a story quest, Lyney said similar words to a woman who claimed he'd end up all alone. I can only pray that the writers will have mercy at my soul and that they wouldn't go that low with a playable character
If I were to make a mildly self indulgent guess, as the Freminet main I am, I'd say that he may be the key that's going to make things turn out different for the twins. His presence is the biggest difference between the twins vs Arle and Clervie, who seemed to have no one else that was even mildly close to them. From the 4.6 trailer we know that he's the one that has been hiding stuff and we do see him blocking out Arle's attack, so I don't think it's a stretch to say he'll have a really important role in this whole thing
So yeah! If you read all my rambling, thanks I guess, hope you enjoyed it. In the end, all I can hope is that the Fontaine siblings all turn out fine for the sake of my own mental wellness because God knows these 3 stay all day spinning in my head as if it was a microwave
Also, for the record: No, I don't have a clue about what the hell is going on with Freminet apparently finding "Clervie" (ghost?? Illusion??) and hiding her from Arle. Until this short my best shot was that she was some sort of mermaid creature, but that idea is out the window so it could be anything really
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autumnywinter · 2 days
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Filthy Desires - Harper x Reader
TW: Obsessive behavior, doctor/patient relationship, past dubious consent, abusive power dynamics, mentions of hypnosis, male Harper
NSFW! MDNI
Reader is gender neutral + AFAB
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You don't know how long you had been here, and you were sure Harper and the rest of the nurses purposefully kept that information from you. Longer than a month, surely. Long enough for the other patients to call you "Harper's bitch", that was for sure.
As offended as you were by the crude nickname they had given you, it was still undeniably true. Harper controlled almost every aspect of your life. Sure, he essentially controlled all the patients' lives as long as they were in his ward, but you were a different case. You got a certain kind of privilege (that's what Harper called it, at least) not afforded to any patient. Your room was always the closest to his office, meaning he could just "stop in and check in on" you any time of any day.
Sometimes, it was a simple chat. He'd ask you how you were, give you a quick peck on the lips, and leave.
Other times, it was more serious sessions. Sessions that went on for far too long and made you extremely exhausted for days afterwards. He hypnotized you into being complacent, dumb, and forgetful, but you knew fully well what he had been doing to you. There were moments he didn't even bother going through hypnosis first. Those times he was obviously more pent up and frustrated, which used to be rare, but now it seemed like he got like that at least once a week.
Occasionally you enjoyed his attention and praise, but the toll it took on you to please him had gotten so mentally taxing that there were days you considered trying to break out or notify the outside world. Unfortunately for you, Harper never let patients use outside technology like cellphones.
As humiliating and invasive as the daily routine was for you, he also showered you with attention you never got outside of the hospital.
"Time for your session," a nurse calmly notified you.
You nodded and walked your normal route to Harper's office. You've memorized the way after having to go there so many times each and every day. Harper sat behind his large oak desk, reading a file on another patient.
"Y/N," Harper greeted. His piercing pink eyes peeked out over the rim of his glasses. He had his straight blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it from falling into his face while he's working. He raised his hand in the air and made a gesture for the nurse to leave. Once the nurse shut the door behind him, Harper spoke again. "Come sit."
Obedient as ever, you quickly sat yourself on Harper's lap. It had became your usual spot at this point.
Harper peppered gentle, loving kisses along your cheek, jaw, neck, and lips. It was hard to understand anything about the doctor, but one thing he made obvious was he loved kissing you.
When he pulled back, he ran his hand through your hair affectionately. His hand traveled down your torso, rubbing and touching at whatever pleased him. He pressed sloppy wet kisses over your neck and ground his knee against your clothed cunt. You keened and leaned into him, grinding down on his leg in hopes of stimulation. He chuckled darkly, always amused with how needy and desperate you got so quickly.
"Do you know what today is?" he asked in between pecks along your collarbone.
You shook your head.
Harper trailed his finger lightly along your side. "It's your birthday."
For just a split second, you felt happy. But then you put together how long that meant you had been here. Your face fell. Harper hummed, noticing your shift in attitude. His warm, broad hands skimmed over your stomach.
"We've been doing such good work recently, haven't we?" he said, ignoring your sudden dejectedness. Harper was good at shifting topics subtly. You hummed quietly in affirmation. "Then tonight," Harper tilted your jaw so you'd make eye contact with him. "I can give you a special treat for your birthday." He kissed your nose.
"Okay, Doctor Harper," you whispered, leaning into his hold. His strong hands pressed into your sides, encouraging you to keep grinding against his leg. You weren't getting any real stimulation that way, but he loved hearing your whimpers and moans regardless.
You gripped onto the doctor's broad shoulders and arched your back, rolling your hips. Harper watched you with an intent expression on his face.
"What do you want for your special treat, darling?"
"Uh..." Your breathing was getting heavy and he could tell how frustrated you were getting not being able to come from humping his leg. Harper let a hand trail along your torso, stopping to rub your labia through the standard hospital attire you were expected to wear. Your hips shuddered at the indirect touch and a squeaky moan escaped your lips.
"Be descriptive. I can't give it to you if I don't know what you want." Harper rubbed your core faster, encouraged by the high pitched noises and half-formed words coming out of you.
"I-I don't know," you shakily admitted. You just wanted to cum, it didn't matter how at this point.
Harper raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Then would you like to figure it out on my desk?" He didn't even wait for an answer, next thing you knew, he had hoisted you up with a shocking amount of strength. He sat you on the cold wood and made a place for himself by parting your legs open. "So cute, you're soaking already," Harper muttered to himself. He rubbed the dampened fabric between your legs, cooing when you jerked and let out a satisfied gasp.
"Doctor," you whined.
Just as Harper planned on removing your underwear, there was a knock on the door. His usual composed expression was gone, only for a second. He stood up straight to smooth down his hair and fix his tie. "Under the desk."
His tone was soft but stern. You crawled under, sitting on the floor comfortably in between Harper's legs. Harper seated himself in his comfortable, office chair and pulled it in so you would have just enough room.
"Come in," he answered, already back to his professional voice. You sat in the dark beneath the desk and listened to the nurse come in, talking about something related to the medication being stocked low again.
They began exchanging words back and forth, but your mind wasn't on that. It was rather on the obvious sight of his cock straining in his pants right in front of your face. You looked up for any acknowledgement from Harper, but his attention was focused on the nurse.
Without any sense of urgency, your hands slowly trailed up his legs. Harper didn't bat an eye. You played with the buckle, undoing and sliding the belt off. Your fingertips skimmed along his trousers, feeling the shape of his cock with a gentle press and rub. A small sigh left his lips.
Unzipping the zipper, you reached your hand into his trousers and pulled his underwear down just enough to give yourself some freedom to work with. His erection stood tall against his abdomen. Harper glanced down at you momentarily, meeting your eyes right as you were bringing your lips onto the tip of his cock.
His fingers tensed against his pen in his hand but he said nothing.
"Doctor Harper?" The nurse was worried about his sudden shift in focus, which prompted his gaze away from you. "Are you okay?"
"It's fine," Harper answered a bit too quickly. His face was lightly flushed pink and he was trying his best to not give himself away. You enjoyed how swiftly he could lose his composure.
You hollowed out your cheeks and took in the head of his cock, rolling your tongue around to tease the head.
"Are you sure?" the nurse pushed further. You wrapped your lips around Harper and swallowed his cock deeper, inch by inch. A jagged inhale sounded through the office. "Should I go get you a coffee or some water? You don't look very well."
Harper coughed. "That's unnecessary. I- ah -just get back to work. Please. I-I'm busy. Very busy."
As much as you could get annoyed with him, he was cute stuttering like a mess above you. It wasn't a common sight, so naturally you'd want to take advantage of it. You took a slow, teasing drag up his length, stopping just as the tip left your lips. Harper was used to you being needier and greedy by now. Something as simple as a painfully slow blow job threw him for a loop. His hips jerked for the feeling of your hot mouth to be back on him, which you complied.
Once he was sure the door shut behind the nurse, Harper put down his pen, rolled his chair in further, and bucked into your mouth without warning. You sputtered from the intrusion of your throat being filled.
He wrapped his lithe fingers into your hair, holding you in place. Your throat swallowed around the thick length, and Harper shivered from the pleasant feeling. He was frantic to chase his release.
With a shuddering breath, he bucked into you a final time and came, keeping your head pushed down as he did. He looked down at you with a proud gaze. "Make sure to swallow, dear. It's good for you." He freed you from under his desk, still panting. He caressed your cheek once you resurfaced and kissed over your sensitive lips. "Good job."
"It was supposed to be my birthday, and here I was pleasing you," you grumbled.
Harper didn't seem to mind your pouting at all. He glanced at the clock in the top right of the room. "Don't worry, darling, you still didn't tell me what you want for your birthday." Harper's fingers brushed through your hair, straightening any stray hairs and loose strands. "I'm afraid we don't have any more time now, but I could pay you a visit tonight. Would that make you happy?"
Happy wasn't exactly the emotion you'd associate with Harper visiting your room late at night. Yet you nodded. "Can I have some birthday cake, too?" You couldn't recall the last time you had sweets like that. The hospital's version of sweets were fruit cups and yogurt. Harper must've noticed how excited you were at the simple mention of a cake since he smiled, a toothy and genuine smile. You found it a bit hard to believe that Doctor Harper of all people could do such a thing.
"I'll see what I can do."
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scarlet-ancunin · 1 day
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A/n: I may not draw but i can certainly write hc of this. Batstarian has become my go to for comfort after long day *sighs*
⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽
Spoiling My Little Love~
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Astarion was very excited the day he learned he can become a bat. But he was surprised he wasn't a normal one as what You informed him
"What do you mean im not normal?" He sounded annoyed until you explained "you are an all white bat with red eyes tiny fangs and more importantly your litterally have a white curl on the top of the tiny head of yours"
He huffs but found it amusing still "well at least im unique" you smile and kissed his cheek softly "indeed you are"
However, there are times when he was tired just from shifting or leaning how to fly so you came up with the idea to spoil him not just in his normal self but as a Bat to.
"Why?" He would have asked you. But you stood your ground stating it is important to be relaxed in his new form to. So he agrees.
For starters you realized the man is dramatic as a bat as he is his normal self. He would squeak loudly if you stopped to soon was cleaning / massaging his wings.
He would bite your finger warning you if you touch his ears to much while he was a blushing mess if you touch his ears when he is his normal self, it hurts a bit when you touched his ear to much.
He especially loved when you use a toothbrush to brush his back and his little bum. You tried not to laugh when he does happy squeaks or when he flops to the side because he fell asleep.
You loved when after his bath and massage he would rest against you while you pet the top of his head gently while reading.
Oh did you forget to mention he would love when you treat him by going outside to his favorite shady spot so he can enjoy the day without hurting from the sun by covering him with a cloak you try to surpress you happy giggles when only his small head pops out to peek at the world.
Once under a shady tree you would massage his little body while he rested on your lap. Letting the cool breeze hit you both.
If he was a little dirty you would pour some water on him and gently wip his body and wings and would smile when he stand and does a dramatic spin. "You are perfect every time" he would say knowing you understood since you drank a anime speaking potion.
To say the least you was very happy to bathe Astarion in his cute bat form.
⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶
A/n: hope you liked and enjoyed this 😊 batstarian lives rent free in my head.
Request Open
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sasaranurude · 2 days
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Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."
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I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.
Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.
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He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.
The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.
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There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!
In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar
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At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.
And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)
Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.
Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.
So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.
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Then & Now (M, cold)
Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)
CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.
Then & Now
Now
“Morning, Chef.”
“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”
Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”
“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”
“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”
Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”
Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”
“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”
“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”
“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”
Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”
“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.
“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”
Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.
Greyson
9:31AM
hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.
The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.
Reed
9:32AM
Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!
Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”
Then – Ten Years Ago
“Chef?”
The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”
“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.
“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”
“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.
The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”
Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.
“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.
“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.
“Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Now
“Elijah. Look at this text.”
The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.
“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”
“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”
“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”
“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”
“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.
“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”
Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”
“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”
“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.
Greyson
10:07AM
thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.
Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.
Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.
Reed
10:08AM
honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.
Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.
Greyson
10:10AM
you REALLY arent mad? seriously?
Reed
10:10AM
im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol
Greyson
10:11AM
I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.
Reed
10:11AM
welllll….im not. is that ok? haha
Reed
10:15AM
grey…? you believe me, right?
Reed
10:21AM
greyson..?
Then – Seven Years Ago
He was moving through molasses.
Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.
It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.
“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.
Actively searching for work. Location: Any.
Now
“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”
Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”
“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.
He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.
Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.
“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.
“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”
“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”
Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.
“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”
“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”
“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”
“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.
“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.
“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”
“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”
“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”
Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.
“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”
Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3
Then – Three Years Ago
“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”
“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.
“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”
Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.
“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”
“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”
Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.
Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”
It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.
“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”
“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”
Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.
Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.
Now
Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.
Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.
Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.
“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”
On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”
Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”
While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.
“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”
Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”
Then – Two Years Ago
“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”
The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.
“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”
“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.
“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”
“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.
But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.
“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”
Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.
“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”
Now
Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.
Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.
Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.
“Greyson?”
Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.
“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”
Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.
“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”
Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.
“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”
“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.
“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.
“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.
Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”
“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”
“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”
Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.
“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”
At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.
“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”
They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.
“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.
“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.
“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.
“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.
“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
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anincompletelist · 2 days
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happy wednesday! :D
HELLO I know I have missed at least the last one (if not two) rounds of tags but I have the brain space to share today so THANK YOU @onthewaytosomewhere @welcometololaland @littlemisskittentoes @kiwiana-writes
@suseagull04 @msmarvelouswinchester @priincebutt @itsmaybitheway
@thinkof-england @thedramasummer @nocoastposts @agostobuwan for the lovely tags! I am very much looking forward to reading through all of these this afternoon! <33333
today's snip is a bit longer, so I'll slip it under the cut! I *think* this is the first time I've debuted this guy so.... enjoy? kdjhfkjhsgkfhjg
hope you're all well! xx
+
“So… I guess you’ve probably seen the news,” Alex says from the doorway, more so to his shuffling feet than to Henry himself. 
“I usually try to actively avoid watching the news,” Henry tells him. “You’ll have to be more specific.” 
“Right. The, uh, Claremont-Diaz-for-2040-thing?” 
“Ah, yes,” Henry nods, his fingers twitching where they’re tucked underneath his crossed arms. “Your dream come true. Your parents must be so proud.” 
Alex’s face twists up into an odd half-grimace, half-smile, a divot between his brows as he surveys his wringing hands. “Anyway. I was kind of hoping that…” 
“If you’re looking for some kind of endorsement or political favor I’m afraid I’m not involved in any of that anymore.” 
His gaze finally snaps to Henry, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t— I just…” 
He sighs, dropping his hands, lifting one to drag through his curls, much longer than Henry remembers and a little silver with age. He’s always been able to tell when Alex was overthinking, even if they were never close. That much, at least, hasn’t changed. 
“I was wondering if I could live with you. For a little while. Here,” Alex says finally. 
Henry blinks. “Sorry?” 
“I was wondering,” Alex huffs, his eyes rolling briefly, “if I could live with you.” 
It doesn’t make any sense. Alex is a well known politician back in New York, the primary presidential candidate for the upcoming election. Henry presumes he could likely stay just about anywhere he’d like, and he has an exceedingly difficult time believing that that place is in the foothills of Finland with the ex-prince he’d made very clear on several occasions he, quite emphatically, disliked. 
The damage control hadn’t worked, because Henry was damaged enough for the both of them. The avoiding was better. He’d thought he could be rid of Alex for good. Could finally put to rest the feelings he’d had in his youth, shove them under the years that have built up between them since then and pretend they never existed in the first place.
Staring into his wide, hopeful, bottomless brown eyes, the same fire in them from years past, Henry thinks he really should have known better. 
“I’m sorry,” Henry murmurs, his throat tight, “it sounds like you’re asking me if you could live here.” 
Alex only shrugs. “Well, I mean. It should, probably. Since that’s what I’m doing.”
+
no pressure, of course, and OPEN TAG!
@wordsofhoneydew @firenati0n @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @affectionatelyrs
@cha-melodius @anchoredarchangel @rmd-writes @read-and-write-
@magicandarchery @happiness-of-the-pursuit @getmehighonmagic @junebugclaremontdiaz
@bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @whimsymanaged
(here's hoping the tags work friends jshdkjshgkfhjg <333)
xx
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unsoundedcomic · 2 days
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Genuine praise and applause here, you've achieved something unprecedented to me as a reader: I feel shaken and uncertain about a protagonist I once liked, but also still completely invested in their story.
Right now (I've just read 18-80 to 84) I feel you've struck a great balance of surprise (at Duane) and trust (in your story). Perhaps because no single choice of Duane's felt out-of-character, as they slowly added up? I honestly can't predict how I'll feel about him and his flaws by the end of Unsounded, but for once, I'm enjoying that unease! Because of the care you've taken in building your characters so far, I at least still have faith in *you* to reach a satisfying ending.
Oh this should be a question, hmm. Were you at all tempted to foreshadow Duane's recent/future choices more obviously (by character or plot), softening a bit of the impact for a smoother story? Because again, I'm glad you didn't – perfectly threaded needle to keep me captivated.
So glad you're having a good time!
I hope Duane's current state is pretty well telegraphed, though I know it can be hard to remember past instances when the webcomic delivery spaces everything out. He's repeatedly shown himself to be hypocritical and selective in regards to kids. The army story ended with him continuing to train babies in the killing arts and accepting a false narrative that he had never let one of them die. This led right into him turning a blind eye to the Litriya twins for the sake of helping the Aldish invaders get to the construct facility. He felt AWFUL about this - we saw it - and tried to make up for it, but even that very action was already going against what was said in the black water: God is not attainable by transaction. Duane was trying to erase that debt to Litriya. It doesn't work that way! Like Claggart said, you got to acknowledge your mistakes and keep moving.
Duane started to. He truly did, when he spoke to Lori and the Peaceguard, then moved to go defend the shrine. But then Mikaila was there in the sky and all development was cut short in tandem with his poor rotten head.
What did he see when he and Toma and Elka approached Port Morstorben's ravaged gate? Not all the dead bodies. Not a vision of Sara asking him to help defend her people. Instead Duane saw Lemuel and Leysa and Mikaila. The eels have always known exactly how to steer Duane towards his worst self, and they use his best self to do it. They use his blind love for his family, his loyalty towards his homeland, and his faith in God. These can all be fantastic attributes or they can make a monster.
So yeah, I feel like the foreshadowing is there pretty thick. What makes it still compelling, I hope, is Duane's selfishness and reluctance to change are so often counterbalanced by his earnest desire to make things better and to help the people around him as individuals, in the moment. There's not an ounce of real malice in the man, but when Duane stews, he often talks himself into making the wrong choice. When he acts with all the compulsion of a big-hearted protector, he tends towards selfless compassion.
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mothandpidgeon · 3 days
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The Outlaws (outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 3
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Moth's Masterlist - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates an turn on notifications so stay updated with my fics!
SERIES MASTERLIST
pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: E (18+ MDNI)
wc: 3.2k
summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.
tags: old west au, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, only one bed, riding a horse together, one mention of pee, hand touching, strip tease I guess, Tommy and Maria, morally grey characters, reader has backstory, moth never uses y/n
authors note: Been holding onto this chapter since I haven't finished the next one but I really want to share this with you! Thank you @ezrasbirdie for beta and helping me untangle this mess and being the wind beneath my wings.
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There are six links in the chain that separate you from Joel Miller. You count them over and over again. As you lay awake by the dying campfire. When he rattles them just after dawn to rouse you from the sleep you’d finally fallen into. While you drink the rancid coffee he boils over the fire.
You imagine them leaving an imprint on Joel’s tanned neck. Red, purple, bruising his skin as you use it to choke him to death.  
You spend the morning following him to and fro as he and Ellie pack up camp. 
“You know how to whistle?” Ellie asks you. 
She’s been sticking her forefinger and thumb between her lips trying to get a sound out of them. 
“Afraid not,” you tell her. 
“You’re with me,” Joel says. He stands beside his horse, hand on his hip. 
“I have to wear this damn bracelet the whole way?” you ask. 
He nods. 
“Do you think I’m crazy enough I’d jump off a horse?” you ask. 
His eyes rake up and down your body and you try to ignore the heat that flashes across your skin. “Yep.”
Once he’s in the saddle, he hauls you up behind him. Not like you have much choice. 
“You go for my gun and—“
“I know, I know,” you tell him. 
You have ample opportunity to study the outlaw, at least the back side of him, as you ride behind him. He’s broad and sits tall in the saddle like he was born for it. You watch his shoulders under the fabric of his shirt, tempted to smooth your palms over them. With your wrists connected, you’ve got to keep your hands at his middle. His narrow hips roll with the movements of the animal beneath him, and you grip onto his shirt imagining how powerful it would feel to take him from behind. 
He barely acknowledges you. There are a couple of times when you rest your cheek against his back just because you know it’ll annoy him. It works. He looks over his shoulder at you and you can hear the grumble vibrate through his body. 
The three of you ride all day, stopping only twice to stretch your legs. Both times, Joel helps you down with his hands on your waist. You shouldn’t enjoy it as much as you do but his hands are big and his eyes dart away from yours. He stops touching you as quick as he can, as if you’re a hot kettle that might burn his fingers.
Your amusement is short lived as you have to suffer the indignity of squatting behind a bush with your arm outstretched towards fucking Joel Miller while you take a piss. 
It’s dusk when you reach your destination— an old two-story roadhouse with a sign that reads The Dusty Boot. There’s nothing else around but a barn, an outhouse, and open country. Seems like an ideal place to keep a hideout. 
Joel hands you down from the saddle again but before you head inside, he rounds on you. 
“Now listen here, missy,” he says. “When we go in there, you keep that trap shut. No talking about bounties or the like. Not a peep out of you. Understand?” Joel asks you. 
You twist your pinched fingers in front of your lips as if you’re locking your mouth the same as your wrist is locked in that cuff. It’s a command you have absolutely no intention of following. 
By the frown on his face, it seems he knows that. 
“And you let me do the talking,” he tells Ellie. 
“Maria’s got a stick up her ass,” she laughs. 
“Ellie,” Joel scolds. 
“You said it yourself!” she says.
Joel sighs and trudges forward, dragging you along with him. 
The inside of the Boot is cozy and rustic. There’s a large parlor with a number of tables, the paneled walls are decorated with antlers and horse shoes. After a full day bouncing on horseback, you’d love to sit your ass down in one of the winged back chairs in front of the fireplace. Most importantly for your new companions, the place is empty. If there are other guests, they’re up in their rooms. 
At one end of the room, a man in an apron with a rag thrown over his shoulder stands behind a modest bar. 
“Hey, brother!” he calls, a smile lighting his face. 
You can see a resemblance between the two men– the same dark eyes and tan complexion, though Joel’s has been kissed by the sun.
“Tommy?” you whisper to Ellie. 
She nods. 
Tommy’s as slim as Joel is broad and he looks a bit younger. If Joel ever bothered to smile maybe he’d lose a few years off his face, too. 
“Been a while, stranger,” he says. “How’s it going, kid? Still giving him hell?”
“We need a place to lay low for a bit,” Joel says, cutting the pleasantries. 
You’re not sure if Tommy’s disappointed that this isn’t a social call but he nods and says, “Yeah, alright. You gonna introduce me to your lady friend?”
Joel bristles at the suggestion that you might be anything other than his prisoner. You give a smile and lift your fingers to your brow as if to tip your hat. As you do, the chain rattles obnoxiously and Joel glares at you.
“What the hell, Joel!” Tommy’s jovial expression has transformed to a look of horror.
“She’s got a bounty on her. I’m taking her to Jackson,” Joel explains. 
“Maria ain’t gonna be happy about that,” Tommy says. 
“Isn’t going be happy about what?” 
A lean woman has appeared at the top of the stairs. She stands tall, shoulders back with a cool air. Her simple, grey dress is neat and spotless just like, you note, the room around you. 
Joel quickly takes his hat off. He nudges Ellie to do the same. He’s tense and you can’t tell if he resents this woman or he’s afraid of her. Maybe a little of both. 
You like her. 
She sighs heavily as she descends the steps. 
“Tommy, please tell me I’m seeing things because it looks to me like your brother has a woman shackled to himself in my parlor,” she says. 
“You ain’t,” Tommy replies. He sounds just as exasperated. 
Maria sizes you up with a look that’s half pity, half disdain. She’s a beautiful woman. Deep brown skin and sharp, appraising eyes. You can only imagine what she thinks of you. A night sleeping in the dirt can’t have done you any favors and certainly neither did a day bouncing around on horseback. 
“How’d she get that bruise, Joel?” Maria asks.
You stroke the spot on your face gently as though it really hurts. In truth, you’ve pretty much forgotten that it’s there.
“She came by it on her own,” Joel says.
“That true, darlin’?” Tommy asks you, his voice full of concern. 
Joel’s face contorts in what you can only describe as disgust that his brother would think him capable of such a thing.
You give a noncommittal shrug.
“That’s courtesy of the Pinkerton man she was with before we picked her up. Joel gave him what for,” Ellie explains.
Tommy nods. 
“We’re just wanting a couple nights to keep our heads down. Ain’t nothing we ain’t asked for before,” Joel says.  
“That’s fine. If you unlock her,” Maria says. 
“She’s a murderer. You want me to let her loose around your nice customers?” Joel asks. 
“I’ve already got three criminals in here. What’s one more?” she says. 
“Come on, Joel. Let her be,” Tommy says. “She ain’t gonna give you the slip. Are you, darlin’?”
“Well, if given the opportunity—“ you admit. 
“Joel, take that damn cuff off her. And you,” Maria turns on you, “give him your word you won’t try to run while you’re under this roof. Or so help me god I will throw all three of you out.”
“The hell did I do?” Ellie asks. 
You’re beginning to understand why you sensed fear on Joel. For a second there, you’re more afraid of enduring her wrath than you are facing the executioner. 
“Yes, ma’am,” you say almost involuntarily. 
“Shake on it,” Tommy suggests. 
You extend your hand to Joel with a saccharine smile. Tommy’s obviously gone soft since he left the gang if he believes somebody like you would be beholden to a handshake promise. It’s sweetly naive. 
Joel’s thinking the same thing. You can see it all over his face. He grinds his molars. 
“You do what I say when I say it,” he insists. 
“Sure thing, boss,” you say. 
He shakes your hand.
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Joel watches your every move. 
He’s been wanting to get Tommy aside to talk but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes off you. You’re unleashed and eager to run and he’s not willing to lose his bounty just because his sister-in-law is so sanctimonious.
“Hey, Tommy. Why did the cowboy go to the doctor?” Ellie asks.
Evening has descended on the Boot. A stage coach pulls in for the night. Its two passengers take their supper at the bar while their driver warms his hands at the hearth. Ellie and Joel sit across from you in the corner, bowls of hot stew on the table. Hers is empty before Joel’s even managed to bring his spoon to his lips. 
Joel notices things about you. He wishes he would stop noticing how attractive you are. 
Your eyes are sharp and fast. He can tell you’re making note of anything and everything that might help you escape. You massage at your wrist which is now naked with delicate fingers. You lick your lips jealously when Tommy sets a whiskey down in front of his brother. 
You don’t have good table manners. The way you stab at potatoes is particularly violent. You probably wish those tines were going into his eyeball.
“How come?” Tommy asks. He wipes his hands with his bar rag, eyes twinkling with delight. 
“He was feeling a little hoarse!” Ellie cackles. 
Joel shakes his head. The kid is a handful but she’s grown on him. Her puns have not. 
He looks up to find you smirking. Not because you find the joke funny. No, you’re laughing at Joel. 
He reaches across the table and puts his hand around yours. He shouldn’t touch you again, not since he shook your hand and felt the softness of your skin on his. He spent all day with you practically pressed against his back, getting hints of lavender each time he turned his head in your direction. Such a sweet scent for somebody like you. It’s been a long time since he felt the weight of a woman on him. His body doesn’t know that you’re as dangerous as a mountain lion and slippery as an eel. It just cares that you’re pretty and you’re closer than you ought to be. And it wants more of that. 
Your muscles tense around the horn handle of your fork. Joel unwraps your fingers from the utensil, focusing on the task at hand not the feel of you under his fingertips or the wide eyed stare you give him. His heart is beating double time when he replaces your pointed fork with a spoon. 
Your shoulders soften when he releases you. You remind yourself to sit up straight. 
“Enough jokes,” Joel tells Ellie.
“He ain’t no fun,” Tommy laughs. 
You continue to keep your big eyes on Joel as you finish your stew. 
“That was good eating Miss Maria,” you say when she clears bowls from the table. “I don’t rightly remember the last time I had a proper meal.” 
You’re a fool if you think you’ve got an ally in Maria. Just because she got you unlocked doesn’t mean she thinks you’re anything better than trash. Her daddy was a justice of the peace and she’s never taken kindly to criminals either. It still vexed him that she’d fallen for Tommy but then again she blamed Joel for all of his brother’s failings. 
“I know a thing or two about cooking. I’d be happy to lend a hand,” you tell her. 
Joel lets out a sharp laugh. Your voice is sweeter than Joel’s heard and you're laying it on thick buttering Maria up. 
“What’s funny about that?” you demand. 
“You don’t know a thing about cooking but I’m sure you’d like to get a knife in your hand,” Joel says. 
“As a matter of fact, I do know how to cook. More than cowboy beans,” you spit. 
“I appreciate the offer. It'd be nice to get a hand in the kitchen for once,” Maria says probably just to get a rise out of him. 
“That’s too bad. I ain’t letting you out of my sight,” he says. 
He stands, stretching out the sore muscles in his lower back. 
“Got the front room for ya,” Tommy says. “I’m guessing you’re not looking to sleep in the common room.” He glances towards the other guests. 
Joel and Ellie have stayed amongst the strangers in the big room on the second floor when the rest of the private accommodations are taken. With you ready to bolt, though, it’s not an option. 
“I want my own room. Take it out of my share,” Ellie tells Joel when he gives her a stern look. “I’m sick of listening to you snore.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Maria says. 
Despite her contempt for their criminal lifestyle, Maria dotes on Ellie. Like she’s leaving a saucer of milk out for a feral cat, hoping one day it’ll come inside to lay by the fire. “Tommy’ll set that up for you.”
“I’ll bunk with the kid,” you say. 
“Nice try,” Joel says. 
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“Ain’t this cozy,” you say. 
You’ve stepped into the room you’ll be sharing with Joel. 
Cozy’s one way of putting it. There’s barely enough space to open the door without hitting the iron framed bed. Beside that is a night stand with a porcelain wash basin, a chair, and a window. There’s about two paces of open floor in either direction. It’s hardly big enough for the both of you. 
But that works to Joel’s advantage. He doesn’t want you going far. 
As soon as the door shuts behind him, he clamps the handcuff around your wrist once again. 
“Come on now,” you whine. “What about our truce?”
“That’s for Maria’s benefit. And she ain’t here,” Joel says. 
You’re well beyond arguing and rolling your eyes. 
“Well you can’t expect me to sleep in these dirty clothes again. Can you at least give me my arm for a minute so I can get out of ‘em?” you ask.
Joel’s eyes travel over you and he swirls his tongue over his teeth. It’s not a difficult decision for him. If you want to undress and lay in bed in your underthings, he’s not going to stop you. He unlocks the cuff and moseys over to lean against the door. You’re not going to run out of there.
“You going to stand there and watch?” you ask, fingers pausing at the buttons on the top of your bodice.
Joel presses his shoulders against the door, making himself comfortable.
“How do I know you ain’t got a weapon in them petticoats?” he asks.
“If there was, you’d already be dead,” you say. 
He lets out a chuckle. 
“Suit yourself,” you say.
A cool smile comes over your features. You continue undoing the buttons as you turn towards him so he can see you straight on. Slowly, you reveal what’s underneath– the lines of your corset, a sweet ribbon at the top of your chemise, and an expanse of decolletage. You slide the bodice off of your shoulders and toss it onto the floor, then continue on to your skirts.
“That brother of yours is handsome,” you tell him. One skirt falls away. “Did he leave you for that woman or she come after that?”
Joel doesn’t answer. You don’t seem to care.
“She don’t like you,” you tease.
You square him with defiant eyes, inviting him to look, daring him to stay in control. More flesh is revealed. Your blue corset presses the swell of your breasts above the chemise and you bend forward to give him a little show. Ripe, soft. He salivates. 
Joel tries not to enjoy himself too much. He shouldn’t. And not just because this could easily turn into a trap. 
“She don’t like you neither,” he says.
You shrug.
He could have you any which way he wanted with just the promise of letting you go. He wouldn’t even have to do it. Just say the word and you’d get on your knees for him. It doesn’t feel right, though, taking advantage of somebody so desperate. So he just watches, trying to keep his features indifferent as each piece of frilly fabric hits the floorboards. He hooks his thumb into his gun belt, hoping that it might obscure the growing strain in his dungarees.
By the time you’re undoing the metal fasteners at the front of your corset, he’s biting down on the inside of his cheek. He tastes blood when there’s nothing more separating him from your body than a gauzy chemise and cotton drawers.
You go to the wash basin and splash water on your face and neck. Some droplets fall and make your chemise cling to your damp skin.Y ou moan happily, refreshed. The noise is obviously exaggerated but it still makes Joel ache.
You linger like that for a moment, lazily swaying your bare shoulders. Finally, you step towards Joel, crowding him against the door. The space between the two of you is hot and his breath shallows. He can see the outline of your peaked nipples beneath the flimsy material. The thought passes his mind again, how easy it would be to toss you back onto the mattress and help himself to all of you.
You raise your hand to him and for a moment, he’s forgotten what’s going on here. The sly grin on your lips tells him that you’re well aware of the effect your nearly naked body is having on him. He swallows and slips the cuff around you again. His knuckles graze the inside of your wrist as he locks it. Delicate, warm skin.
Pleased with yourself, you crawl onto the bed. Joel wills his cock to behave as he slips out of his boots and coat. He soaks his bandana in the wash basin and cools the back of his neck. Once he’s in his union suit, he sets his holster down on the floor beside his pillow and swings his legs into the bed. He locks himself to you and tucks the key next to his gun.
“Well ain’t this romantic,” you say from your spot against the wall. “Feels like my wedding night all over again.”
Joel stares at the ceiling. The bed’s a tight fit, his shoulders touch yours when he lays on his back. You’re leaned on your elbow smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He smells that lavender again. 
He rolls onto his side, away from your leering. You laugh to yourself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a very long night.
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Comments and reblogs always appreciated!
Chapter 4
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oxymorayuri · 2 days
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Hiii i read the acex reader i dont remember the title but its the one where she was the revolver?
I wanted to request more parts for it please BCS THE WAY U WRITE IT ITS SO CAPTIVATING I CANT
So yes thats all i wanted PLEASE DO CONSIDER 🙏
It will get me through my exams 😔🔫
❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝
Part two
If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here. ♡♡♡
✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, suggestive content ✦ Spoiler: none
A/N: Aw that is so cute! You know what? Why not? I really fell in love with the revolver too. I had to think of something to continue it but see for yourself, I hope you like it sweetie. PS: I hope everything goes well with your studies <3
wordcount: 2488
! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !
ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ivan Imros
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Everything before your eyes appears as if you're looking through a curtain. Time passes more slowly, every touch seems both intense and unreal, but you feel the desire.
There is nothing but desire... the thirst for more.
Light as a feather, you feel as if you are not even in control of your body. But that's not a problem. You enjoy every second, no matter how blurred everything seems to you.
Perhaps because you know that it is nothing more than just a desire. Your movements are rhythmic and you try to intensify the feeling with every thrust, but there are limits to how much you can feel.
Your options are small but you are grateful for what is in front of you.
You can dimly see the lust shining in Ace's eyes, while barely feeling his hands on your hips as they guide you into bliss. Your mind is constantly shifting between lucid yet dazed and one moment you are riding him while the next his lips are caressing yours.
Full of pleasure you close your eyes, your voice says 'more' but you don't feel your lips moving and although your eyes are closed, it gets brighter and brighter behind your eyelids…
You groan in annoyance as you pull the covers over your head. Damn that sucks. This isn't the first dream you've had about Ace, but it's never been as intense as this one.
You cannot escape the images of the things that happened between you and you keep dreaming about that night on the beach. A whole week has passed since then and you and Ace are far from what you could have become and whose fault is it?
Yep, yours.
The angry wiggle in bed gets you nowhere, but you are so annoyed by the situation that you have to let it out.
After your fit of rage, you look up at the ceiling of your room in defeat. Slight dark circles adorn your face because it takes half an eternity for your brain to finally shut up. You don't even want to think about Ace and when you are surrounded by complete silence, his face automatically appears before your eyes. You've spent a few nights tossing and turning in your bed because every time you close your eyes you see him. No matter how tired you were, you couldn't get a wink of sleep.
You tousle your hair. Your ego is so big that you would rather die than approach Ace.
You wonder why you reacted the way you did. After your night, you woke up alone in your room and even though you didn't expect him to be lying next to you, you wished for it.
Loneliness engulfed you and as lonely as you felt, the more you didn't want him to get near you. You felt so available and that's a pretty strange feeling for you… Would it have been different if you had woken up next to him?
You'll never know.
As usual you gave him the cold shoulder but this time you had an additional reason... but somehow you feel a bit childish about it now.
Your thoughts are spinning around. What is your reason anyway? The answer seems to secretly pile up inside you and that makes you nervous.
Should you really have reacted like this? You haven't said a single word to each other. Okay, you haven't said a single word to him… At least he tried, you have to give him that, but after 3 days he had given up. He just leaves you alone and doesn't even get on your "nerves" like before. Nothing nada
Somewhat sadly, you pull your knees towards you and put your head down. You can only blame yourself.
You idiot!
If it wasn't for Jozu, you would probably never have come out of your cabin. He actually managed to get you out of the room.
Well, he more or less dragged you out. He just barged into your room, came up to you without saying a word and grabbed you by the neck. You noticed him, but you didn't have the strength in your bones to really react.
Somewhat belatedly you grab him by his bulky arm but every attempt is in vain and when you realized, that he wanted to leave your room with you, all alarm bells rang in your head.
Like a wild animal, you tried to escape from his grip but no matter how much you scratched him or how hard you hissed, he wouldn't budge. You feisty thing. Without paying the slightest attention to you, he brought you onto the deck and although you were brought here rather roughly, he set you down on the ground with care.
"Touch me like that again and…!!!!!" You are caught off guard when your mouth is suddenly covered with tape; you hadn't expected that. You can only grumble in anger and your eyebrows furrow up furiously as you look up at your commander.
"Hah your stare can't do anything to me you stupid ass!" He makes fun of you while he ties your arms and legs and you have no chance to resist.
The big man took a step back as he watched you wobble pathetically back and forth. You try to free yourself because you are beginning to feel that you are in a critical situation.
Your strength returns and the ropes loosen. Jozu doesn't hesitate any longer and immediately ties you up completely from head to toe, which looks ridiculous. Like a mummy, with only your head free, he leaned you against the ship's mast.
From behind you, you hear Ace apparently going through something similar as you and suddenly he is thrown to the ground in front of you by Marco. He wasn't set down as gently as you were, and with a pained look he rubs his cheek, which has just kissed the ground.
"What's wrong with you guys?" Confused, he looks at the men in front of him who just look down at him with stern expressions and folded arms. Jozu's eyes wandered over to you and Ace's eyes followed his. With shock written all over his face, he looked at you with widened eyes.
Without commenting, he looked back at the two commanders and then Marco broke the silence.
"What have you done Ace." Marco's voice seemed a little threatening. Astonishment spread across Ace's face.
"ME?" Startled, he pointed his own finger at his chest. "I have done NOTHING!" He defends himself with a slightly raised voice.
You want to laugh out loud but the tape stops you.
"I don't know what happened between you, but one thing is clear and that is that the two of you have something to sort out!" Jozu lays out the facts.
"You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you're constantly setting yourself on fire and even if it doesn't hurt you, it's affecting the people around you." His gaze went to you as he noticed your muffled laughter. "And you? We don't even need to talk about you, y/n. But let me refresh your memory. First you shouted at Ace, then you didn't say a word to ANYONE and then you didn't come out of your room for two whole DAYS!!!" The commander breathes in and out, somewhat exhausted.
You weren't even aware that you were behaving outrageously, but now that Jozu has reminded you, you can't deny it. Ace is bothering you and you are bothering him.
Marco touches his forehead, somewhat distraught.
"Listen, if Newgate gets wind of this, he'll talk to you… is that what you want?!" You both shake your heads in panic at the same time.
"I thought so." - "Ace, you were last with y/n that night and she's been so nasty ever since. Did something happen between you?" Jozu interjects.
He exhales a little helplessly and drops his shoulders.
"hahhh, I don't know… I thought we had a good time but the next day everything was different than I thought and that's why I wanted to talk to her to find out what I did wrong!" He turns to you and for the first time you see a look on his face that you never expected to see. He looks angry with a hint of confusion.
"But SHE doesn't want to talk!" he points his finger at you like a child. Offended, you grimace. Luckily, the tape is stuck to your lips because no matter what you would have said, it wouldn't have made any sense anyway. You're so irrational that you don't even recognize yourself.
The two standing men looked at each other and nodded. You and Ace don't quite understand what's happening now, but you'll find out soon enough.
Marco grabbed Ace by the shoulder and led him ahead of him. Ace doesn't really resist and starts to move. When Jozu approached you, you didn't want to leave the stage without a fight. You tried to move like a worm to escape from your commander and even though he admires your efforts, there's no point in trying to escape, because you're just as fast as a worm - not at all. Jozu has an easy time with you and throws you over his shoulder.
The two of them threw you into a prison cell made of sea stone and before they locked the cell, Jozu freed you from your full body bondage. You are glad that your mouth is free again because now you can finally let out all the bad words you have left for Jozu.
"You son of a bitch! Just wait until I'm out of here, then you'll be given a bloody surprise… I'm telling you!"
But you idiot threw yourself against the bars to grab the big man, forgetting that the bars are made of sea stone and that you now have the power of a devil fruit that you still have to get used to.
The energy sapping feeling in your body is sudden, overwhelming and slowly you go down to the ground.
While the men walk away from the cell, Marco shouts something back to you.
"You stay in there until you've sorted this out!" Grinding your teeth, you roll onto your back with the last ounce of your strength and close your eyes.
If I can't see him, then he's not there...
Yeah, exactly, that will work… You don't really believe that, do you?
"Hey… I'll leave you alone if you want, but the others are right. We take it out on the others and that's not okay. We're a crew…" The word crew makes you open your eyes without wanting to.
You sigh in annoyance and roll onto your side so that Ace can stare at your back.
"Yea, maybe. Leave me alone." Your stubbornness is driving Ace crazy, but he doesn't really want you to be like this with each other. Above all, he wants to know why you're like this to him. What did he do wrong?
He's been racking his brains for days about what he could have done or said that upset you so much. He wants to make things better if you would let him.
"If you're not going to talk to me, at least take the bed. Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good." You have no idea what kind of cheap trick that is. Is he trying to get you to sleep in a bed with him? You look back towards the bed but Ace isn't there. He's sitting next to the bed with his back against the wall.
Unexpectedly, disappointment spreads through you. Wait a minute? Is that what you secretly wanted?
A little confused, you stand up and stop in front of Ace, who looks up at you. His unkempt hair falls back slightly as he looks up at you. How you would like to swallow your pride and fall into his arms, but you have no idea where to start. You don't know what to say because you don't even quite understand what is wrong with you. So you say nothing and stare at him with tired eyes as he sits in front of you with one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.
Ace doesn't quite know how to react, but he's not one to do nothing.
He stands up just a few centimeters away from you and now you are the one looking up at him.
His gaze scans your face for answers that you can't even give yourself.
"What have I done?" he whispers to you. His pained voice tears apart your heart. You didn't know Ace could sound so vulnerable.
"I…, I don't know." you mumble your words, but your gaze remains fixed on Ace.
You have no further answer for Ace and walk towards the bed and lie down with your back to him again.
"Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good…" You repeat Ace's words back to him, feeling less pathetic since he said it first.
You listen closely as you can make out the sound of his feet approaching the bed. His shadow falls on the wall, which you stare at, waiting to see what comes next.
You feel the mattress go down a little and you automatically hold your breath until you can hear your heartbeat.
Ace looks down at your slender figure. His eyes wander over your delicate curves. He would love to stroke your hips until you fall asleep, but he's not sure how far he can go without making a mistake... but he has a feeling that doing nothing would be a mistake too.
He decides to lie down with his chest against your back. Lying on his back doesn't really work, there wouldn't be enough room and back to back would be awkward. He really makes an effort not to touch you unnecessarily. He's already glad that you offered him the bed.
You try to calm down, but Ace's breathing gives you goose bumps on the back of your neck. You pinch your eyes shut and try to concentrate on Ace's warmth, hoping you'll be able to fall asleep soon.
Luckily for you, you quickly find your way to the land of dreams because with Ace behind you, one could say; he's no longer buzzing around in your head...
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Stay tuned for the next Part babes <3
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lilsmv1 · 3 days
Text
august - MV1 (1/?)
- you're on your own kid [pt1]
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Juliette Durand
This is a story for the Max (and Taylor Swift) girlies. 
masterlist
Summary: They were doomed from the start. Two completely different worlds colliding, there was no way this could work. But what happens when they keep running into each other, as if gravity was pulling them together. 
Trope: slow-burn af
(*dialogues in italic are meant to be in French, I’m just too lazy sksksks)
Word count: 1,1k
A/N: This is the first chapter guys! I'd love some feedback :) Enjoy !
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Having recently graduated meant finding a job and getting your life together.
But Juliette was only 25, how was she supposed to know for sure what she wanted at this point in her life? 
Juliette was completely lost. She wanted to do everything and nothing at the same time. Everyone expected her to know everything, especially her parents.
Instead of facing their incessant questions on the matter, she ran away, in hopes of overcoming her current situation.
Hence why Juliette booked her tickets for Italy, and found herself wandering the streets of Orta San Giulio.
Juliette felt at peace here, the sound of the water banging against the boats, the cool breeze gently brushing her cheek, the smell of sea water. She didn't know anyone, and no one knew her. No one to expect her to be anything.
She was strolling through a bookshop, her fingers brushing the edges of the books as she went. Her eyes lit up as her hand touched her favorite book. She couldn't even tell how many times she'd read it, but it always had the same gut-wrenching effect on her. She took one last glance at the book before leaving, Martin Eden, by Jack London, a fan favorite, or at least hers.
As she left the store, Juliette’s phone rang. It was Pierre. 
“Ju?”
“Yes Pierre?”
“Did you arrive safely? You were supposed to text me once you get there.”
“Sorry dad!” She laughed. Pierre was her best friend and he could be a tad bit overprotective sometimes. 
“You know I worry about you. How are you feeling?”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just need time to figure things out for myself” Juliette was lying. She wasn’t fine. Her anxiety was really getting the best of her lately.
“I know, and you’ll figure it out. You’re the clever one, you’ll find your path” Replied Pierre, trying to reassure her.
“Easy for you to say, “Mister I always wanted to be a Formula One Driver”” .
Juliette and Pierre met when she was in middle school. They actually met in detention. Pierre was there after talking back to a teacher and Juliette was there after throwing her eraser on a friend. He was three years older than her and immediately saw her as the sister he never had. Since then, she has been cheering for him throughout his entire career, being there for each milestone. She was very proud of him.
“What can I say, I have always dreamt big” laughed Pierre “By the way” he added “Kika is coming to spend a couple days with my family next week, will you be there?”  Pierre asked.
“Of course! I can’t wait to see her again!” Juliette was so happy to see Kika again, she was a real sweetheart. She was glad Pierre had found her. 
“Well I gotta go Pierre, I’ll call you back during the week, alright?”
“Ok, take care Ju, love ya!”
"Love you, see you soon!" replied Juliette.
Juliette cherished her friendship with Pierre more than anything. They couldn't see each other often due to his intense schedule, but he was always there for her and vice versa. To her, he wasn't Pierre Gasly, he was just Pierre, her best friend from middle school. She felt really lucky to have such a friend by her side.
Juliette kept exploring the city for a couple hours. As the evening went on, she decided to grab a bite in the nearest restaurant. Once she settled, she pulled out her film camera, snapping candid shots of the people surrounding her. 
That camera was always in her hand, having thousands of film rolls at home, each capturing snippets of her life.
She watched the people through her lens throughout the whole dinner, until her gaze fell on a pair of piercing bright blue eyes already staring back at her. She slowly lowered her camera, and looked away shyly, embarrassed that she'd been caught red-handed.
She looked back up and that’s when it hit her. She knew those dashing blue eyes. They belonged to none other than Max Verstappen, one of Pierre’s fellow drivers. Except for Charles, she had never met any of them, trying to stay away for the spotlight as much as possible. 
Juliette was completely mortified, and to make matters worse, he was headed in her direction.
“Ciao” he said when he reached her, cringing at his own attempt to speak Italian.
It was all it took to make Juliette burst out laughing, a mixture of surprise and nervousness.
After seeing Max’s defeated look, Juliette pulled herself together.
“I’m sorry”, she said “It’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to speak Italian”. 
This made Max smile. 
“You speak English… then, made a fool out of myself here, didn’t I?” he asked, chuckling.
“Kind of, but it was entertaining” she softly replied with a grin. Realising he had been standing there for five minutes, she invited him to sit with her, which he did.
"I'm Juliette by the way"
"Nice to meet you Juliette, I'm Max"
“So,” he kept going, “did you take any nice pictures, hopefully some with me in them” he said smirking. 
“So you did see... Well, I would’ve but I got a little interrupted” said Juliette.
"Don't worry, I'm flattered" he replied laughing.
"Don't go feeling too special, I take many candid shots of strangers... Although it might sound weird like that" she laughed. "I just find it beautiful to capture snippets of life".
"Well you definitely make it sound beautiful" he replied with a warm smile, making her blush.
They stayed like this for a while, chatting about this and that, although Max failed to mention that he was an F1 driver and Juliette, on her part, failed to mention that she knew who he was and that Pierre was her best friend. They both did not want to make this conversation weird, knowing that were never going to see each other again anyway.
"Well, Max, it was lovely to meet you, but I think I'm gonna head out" said Juliette after a while.
"Yeah me too, have a good night Juliette" replied Max with a smile.
"Good night Max" said Juliette softly before leaving.
They each went their own way, a smile on their face as they though about this one-off encounter.
But after all, Orta San Giulio isn't a big town. Who knows, they might run into each other again.
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mxtantrights · 7 hours
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Omg, girl!! Im the one who requested the "enemies" to lovers with Jason Todd one, and GIRL. I loved it. Was better than i was expecting. Please, write part two!( kiss scene? Hehe)Or a whole Bible if you want. Honestly, i only said a "quick" one because i was trying to be polite, didn't want to push or anything lol.
Anyway, thank you for writing my request!!
thank you soo much!! <333 this is a second parter to this post, but it can be read as a stand alone. hope you enjoy it as much as I liked continuing it!!
The kiss happens in two parts. Not to say that you can carefully dissect it into two parts, but that the kiss almost happens once and then it finally does, kind of.
Once when the two of you are on mission. In a slimy dive bar in some redacted location. You've been following your mark all day and ended up here. He's slinging back cheap shots of an off brand liquor as you and Red watch from the roof of the place.
He's been followed all day and hasn't made you once, which is a good thing. Or a bad thing. So you and Red decide to switch it up. There was no need to drag it out any longer. You could confront him and get the info you needed.
That was the plan.
Until the two of you were about to corner your mark. You were waiting on the street and Red was on the other side of it. It was going well until all of a sudden he met up with a familiar face. Falcone. Red pulled off his side of the street quickly and met up with you.
He doesn't say much. He doesn't say anything at all as he takes your arm and drags you around the wall of a store. You have half the mind to question him but you don't. Until he starts taking off the bottom part of his mask.
You try to stop him, but he crowds into your space. He whispers a very clear apology for being too close to you. And then he explains that him being here, would be a dead give away to Falcone. He might blow up whatever plans he has.
Both of you can hear them walking your way. And the only thing you can think of is apologizing to Red before fitting his fcae right into your neck. In the darkness of the night no one can really see his helmet. Or both of your suits.
They walk by without any second thought to the two of you. And you wait about five seconds before telling Red he was okay to pick his head up from your neck.
The drive to he motel was awkward to say the least.
The second time is when you're in the middle of changing in said motel. It's the last night of the mission. You're just about ready to go home to your comfortable bed and front door that has more than one lock.
Red is in a room on this floor. But the two of you haven't run into each other outside of your masks. It's weird. Like weird as in, it probably should have happened by now, but it hasn't. You think to yourself maybe the universe isn't ready to answer that question yet.
With a towel wrapped around your body you're about to start changing into your sleep wear when you hear something odd. A pop coming from outside. Then another one.
You grab your firearm and go over to the door. You look through the peep hole and see nothing. But you know you heard something. So you open the door , just to peek your head out. And at the right time too.
All of a sudden you see a tall man, white streak of hair, coming your way. He's wearing sweatpants and a black muscle tee. Once he makes eye contact with you, he starts running your way. You don't have time to close the door before he's standing in your face begging you to kiss him.
He's out a breath, and he's practically begging at this point. You're not about to kiss a random man. But when you hear the following footsteps you know he is in danger.
So you agree. And this guy apologizes to you in advance as he leans you against your door and cradles the back of your head with his hand. You almost sort of melt into the kiss. Just for a second. only for a second actually.
Because you realize, the way this man just apologized for what he was about to do, is the same way Red apologized to you the other night. And your brain feels like it's on fire because you realize this isn't some random man. This is Red.
This is Red and you know what he looks like. And he definitely knows it you because your'e the same person he saved in the alleyway in Gotham. Coincidences like that don't happen. Especially when you kind of hinted at it with the first word you said to him as a civilian.
🏷️ @12134z03
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