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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 year

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Ateez | The Type To

Hongjoong

toothless smiles. you'll never get enough

knows every little fact about you. it's all stored in his head

but can't always figure out your mood, where he needs your help

picks your clothes or accessories sometimes

lets you do the same

more of the dating-inside kind of guy, but makes the most of when you do go out

if he's busy, he'll acknowledge you with a smile and then go back to work and forget you're there

because he likes to focus on one thing at a time

and when he's not busy he's all yours

but when he is busy and you decide to play naughty, he will focus on the task ahead- you.

and make you regret (in the best way) interfering with his work

which has become your thing now

calls you his 'muse' and def makes you feel like one

esp with the way he kisses you and makes you feel like a puddle

he really doesn't stop his hands from going anywhere he pleases

fav place might be at your hip

or fingers in your hair- might take a liking to tug your hair back to make you look at him at times

which is when he'll give you the most sultry look and tell you exactly what the events following will ensue of

def the type to hold you against the wall and move across the room while you make out

laughs between kisses oh goodness-

teases the fck out of you and makes you a whimpering mess

spends alllll his energy on you but still takes care of you after

bites-

the type to make you watch yourself too- like if you can see him taking you in some reflective surface or a mirror, all the better

and then you won't believe the filth that'll come out of his mouth (tho you love it when he mumbles dirty little things in your ears)

also has his soft moments, which are so intimate that sometimes you feel overwhelmed with love

and he'll constantly assure you he's here, here with you, forever :')

does the most meaningful things for you- brings you your fav food, reforms your clothes or accessories for you, paints with you, lets you try doing something with his music samples, etc etc

he's your captain

Seonghwa

pass you subtle glances from across the room

hold your hand and lead the way whenever you're out

make you walk on the inside of the sidewalk

mother you in every way-- wiping your mouth with his sleeve, fix your hair, fix your clothes, fix you

scold you in the most loving tone possible

which makes you wonder if you're actually getting scolded because you start to get heart eyes

never make you feel insecure- it hurts him more than it hurts you

details. details in everything he says and does (flashbacks to his fav colour being 'glossy silver chrome' like who are you i don't know you-)

which means your dates are detailed asf. he'll have everything planned out and make sure you have the best time

but also love it when you take him out on impromptu dates

scans your face before he kisses you

forehead kisses. temple kisses. it's his thing

plays with you a lot (take your mind out of the gutter i'm talking about actual games like the board games or whatever)

but also plays with you a lot- *coughs*

tongue.

also his fingers are kinda long so-

will pick you up in the middle of your makeout session and take you somewhere more comfortable

goes hard, but it takes him a millisecond to turn soft

and he's the best softie ever.

he's gonna take his sweet time exploring every nook and cranny of your body, learning everything about you

learning what you like

and you'll most of the times feel like it's your first time all over again- that's def how he makes it feel like

tho he certainly spices things up every time

it's just he makes you feel so safe and loved

also i feel like you both bring out the playfulness in each other, in both romantic and platonic ways

he's such a romantic.

he's also capable of driving you insane with his facial expressions alone

takes care of you when you're tired, makes sure you're good, tucks you into bed, spoons you, lulls you to sleep :')

Yunho

okay hear me out-

he is literally your best friend

and i mean in the way best friends know each other inside out

and the way they know exactly how you're feeling by just glancing at you

so with yunho, you always feel safe. his constant vocal and physical reassurances keep you grounded at all times

so you wish to do something in return for him-

but he assures you that you, just like this, are enough

he's not hard to please in that way. he's not demanding but he's not making you feel like he's not interested in you either. he's got that perfect balance

the most comfortable presence out there is what i'm saying

(maybe this^ was my delulu thoughts ok now to the real shit-)

he's always looking at you to make sure you're okay, or there,

but sometimes, something turns him on and his eyes change

and he really, really can't hide when he's turned on. he starts picking at his lips while giving you the most sultry gaze

sometimes you pretend not to notice

which is when he becomes unexpectedly playful and teasing

he knows what his hands on your body do to you (turn you into jelly is what they do btw)

so he's going to give you a backhug and while he kisses your neck or ear, he's going to let his hands travel all over your body

or when sitting on his lap, he'll let them rest on your thighs- purposefully

and we all know what purpose those long fingers could serve

he's def the type who'll cuddle into you while lovemaking- like bury his face in your neck, in the crooks. you think that's soft? he can make it a hard moment too.

groans into your ears 100 % and that sound might be one of the hottest things you've heard

and when he mumbles things in your ears? his voice goes new levels of deep you never heard before.

kisses you like you'll break

also loves pinning you to surfaces

fully capable of manhandling you (lovingly, ofc)

likes experimenting a lot with you, figuring out what you like and what you don't like together

big spoon most of the times you bet

jokes around a lot with you too- he never makes you feel overwhelmed in any situation

but he is also fully capable of driving you insane at times *coughs*

best caretaker you know it

Yeosang

i'm having a vision- what starts as savage remarks thrown at each other turns into a challenge, turns into another different sort of challenge

we'll get there later

cafe dates. chocolates. you better be ready to satisfy his sweet tooth

you love complimenting him bc 9/10 times he's gonna respond with a shy smile that made you fall in love in the first place

he's usually teasing you bc that's his love language but is also the most genuine person you know

so whenever he compliments you or tells you how much he loves you, you know it's straight from the heart

holds your hand whenever he gets the chance

will kiss it too

shy kisses at first

until he gets turned on and his eyes change and the inner demon that we seen in halazia comes out oof

gentle kisses. demanding kisses. we-have-all-the-time-in-the-world kisses. i might be lacking in my vocabulary

hands cradling your face- that's what makes you weak

is pretty vocal and wants you to be vocal too when he does something new or even in routine

there's this switch in him- y'all be having a soft moment and his switch gets flipped and then he's just... banging. wild.

loves foreplay

might have a thing for placing his hand on your throat too i mean he has his moments

and he also lets you have your moments which is sth you love about him

i feel like he loves to drive you to the edge multiple times before he finally lets you have your way

which is hot asf

but is also so nervous about making sure you're okay, you're good with whatever he's doing

so he's gonna spoil you when he takes care of you, which might probably lead to a round two-

anyways time to touch some grass <3

San

this mf istg- *breathes*

okay he's such an eye candy do you think you'll be interested in anything else other than just staring at him 24/7 whenever you're with him-

let's not let these intrusive thoughts win and dive deeper :D

so yeah he is a nature admirer and when he takes you out, you do admire nature but you admire him more

esp the curves and edges of his face

and when he catches you, he gets shy. like actual shy

rewards you with a sweet kiss

and a good old hug

but sometimes, things get... heated instead

so he raises his eyebrow and goes sth like 'you done staring'?

and if you toss a sarcastic remark next (9.9/10 times you do), he'll just attack you

flirts with you in public

unintentional flirt most of the time

his kisses have a wide range spectrum. from being the most slow, gentle, i-might-break-you-if-i-hold-you-wrong kisses to hot, open-mouthed, i-am-going-to-break-you kisses (i cannot englishi-)

and he's really not shy in lovemaking. he knows what he's doing. he takes advantage of it

loves driving you to the edge too. will take so long to actually get to the real deal, just playing with you first and cornering you and driving you insane ugh

the type to pull you into his lap and make you straddle and ride him

tongue-

tbh i feel like it can get really filthy with him in the best way possible

but also, he's the softest when he's in the mood

and you love that he can switch

the type to shut you up with a kiss

also the type to hold you by your chin and have a staredown with you whenever you tease him

which just leads to other things-

hugs

lots and lots of hugs. hugs of every kind.

his laugh heals you :(

he'll always tell you he's there for you, he loves you, how imp you are to him :(

pocket sized hehe

Mingi

he's a princess so he deserves princess treatment. the end.

no but he's such an unfiltered personality i feel like in the sense that it just shows what he wants

you can see it in his eyes when he wants a hug, when he wants to leave some place, or when he wants to steal the last bite of your food-

also very good at reading you even if you argue that you're not that readable

to him you will be bc he pays attention to every little detail

the kind to throw his arm around you while you walk

bonus if it's winters and he wraps you in his coat

the type to tie a scarf around your neck and then pull you with it and give you a kiss

his kisses are the meaningful sort. you can tell by his kiss what mood he's in

like if he's slow and he sighs in between, he's probably feeling down. if he's gonna act naughty you'll know what he wants

which makes it easier for you to lead things

lets you lead most of the time too

unless he's feeling some type of way

and when he's feeling that type of way, you're in for a banger (pun intended maybe)

i feel like he's really good with his core strength even when dancing so uhh just go ahead and imagine

fingers. (getting shy at this point)

probably gives the best head

like can you imagine the tip of his nose brushing at the your most sensitive parts-

likes when you run your hands through his hair

likes to tug your hair even more

might have a marking kink like he'll like it when he can see what he's done to you

but he's also the most responsive and comfortable during intimacy

and can go on forever, makes you feel like you can go on forever with him

cuddles with you when you're done, cuddles long and good

will shower with you and 9 out of 10 times that means a second round-

softie. absolute softie at times ;-;

Wooyoung

you both love to drive each other insane. you'll fight a lot at most random things, end up laughing in the middle of an argument, tease tf out of each other

but at the end of the day there's no one you'd rather be with

he feeds you like his life depends on it

which means he'll make you food, he'll get you to try different things when you go out, and he just likes it when you're happy with food

takes care of you subconsciously- like wiping your mouth, fixing your clothes, rolling your sleeves when you're eating, etc- he doesn't do it on purpose, it's ingrained in him to take care of you

intentional flirt.

which means he makes you flushed with embarrassment in public

he knows how to rile you up, and oh, when you're riled up-

you know you'll go home all heated up which will def result in a hot makeout session

he's not shy to show you how much he likes it when you're making out so he's very vocal

and we all know about his degradation kink LMAO he loves it when you show him his place in the middle of making out

and you love it when he begs for you to do sth

but he's also very, very good at making you beg, oh, he'll push to to the edge and make you fucking cry before he gives you what you want

his hands everywhere on your body.

mumbles things in your ears, dirty things

and then bites you earlobe

you just love it when he breaks away in the middle of making out and pushes your hair back, all the while scanning your face as if making sure you're real before smiling the purest smile ever :(

and when he evil smiles? you know you're in for a ride quite literally

switches most of the time

satisfies you in ways you didn't know were possible

quite possibly plays a lot with you- might have a thing for tied wrists (his or yours, whatever you're feeling like)

keeps telling you how beautiful, how perfect you are, and when he says it? you never feel like he's lying. you start to believe it

boosts your confidence 10000x

honestly he has a contagious energy so you kinda sometimes turn into wooyoung too and he just 🧍

aftercare is a whole new level with him

hugs you to sleep <3

Jongho

he sings for you. what more do you want? :')

you'll have to hide apples from him tho LOL

being with him is very comfortable and... peaceful. like he brings out the calm in you

tho when he cracks a dad joke you start to reconsider-

but he's adorable

slaps your butt at the most random times

and then giggles before he runs away

gives you backhugs at the most random times too

likes to peck your cheeks while you're sitting in his lap watching sth with him

which sometimes makes you kiss him

usually starts slow but there's a certain sense of urgency behind that kiss sometimes

which makes it into a heated makeout session

stares into your soul when he breaks away to catch his breath

dry humping follows

likes seeing exactly what his actions make you feel like

shy at first but he's also confident asf

and he's... strong

it just drives you crazy when he pins you as he thrusts into you like there's no way you can break free from that

and why would you? ;)

has a thing for necks i've said it before i'll say it now

and he knows exactly how to please you

which means that when he's in the mood, he's gonna drive you to the edge multiple times before letting you have what you want

sometimes lets you do the same to him

he loves it when you're on top of him and ride him. perfect place for him to hold your butt and squeeze it

really good at aftercare, makes sure you're feeling good too

bear hugs after. cuddles

kisses you multiple times before settling down

sings you to sleep :( (i'll always end jongho imagines with this line)

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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months

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Hi, I was wondering if you still accept requests because I read your Wonka fics and find them very cute and wanted to ask if I could also make a request. And that is that the reader has sleep problems and asks Willy finally what she can do about it as soon as she no longer knows what to do and he makes a certain chocolate for her so that she can sleep better again? (Something fluffy please) Thank you!

A sweet remedy [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

note: I'm sorry it took me so long, these weeks I was covering a full shift and with the holidays I barely had time to do anything, but I'm back now! And I hope you like it

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

While you were scrubbing one of the most difficult sheets you had had to wash during the day you felt your eyelids begin to close, at first little by little, and at times completely. It wasn't until you fell against the tub full of soapy water and stood up with a scream at the temperature that you realized you really had a problem.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Piper asked, immediately approaching while you struggled to keep the detergent from getting into your eyes and mouth.

“Yes, everything is fine,” you lied. Everyone had already gathered around you and shame was taking over your body. “I just… I slipped"

“Here's a towel,” said a familiar and loving voice, which belonged to your recent but quite dear friend.

Willy approached you and wrapped the towel around you, carefully, while he helped you clean your face. Once you could see more clearly you noticed that everyone seemed worried and you honestly didn't blame them. Your face reflected the lack of sleep you had had during the last few weeks, coming from a previously unknown cause. The only thing you knew was that the insomnia was literally killing you.

"Are you sure you are alright?" now Abacus murmured. You nodded again and smiled at everyone, imploring them to let the moment pass.

When you were dry enough you continued with your tasks, but you could feel your friend's dissatisfied gaze from across the room, as if he were the only one unwilling to ignore your recent strange behaviors: you were distracted, you seemed to leave mentally out of nowhere and this wasn't the first incident where you practically passed out on a dangerous surface.

At some point you had to carry a cart of sheets to the drying area and that's when he hurried to follow you.

“Let me help you,” he exclaimed, smiling in your direction as he held the cart you were pushing.

“I'm fine,” you said, to reassure him, because you knew that he had approached you to monitor your mood.

One by one you took out the sheets and began to put them in the dryer. The process would take a while, so you guys had a few minutes to chat, after all you knew the others wouldn't mind.

You leaned against the old machine, feeling the vibration on your lower back, and he did the same. The distance was so close that your hip was touching his, turning any conversation into a private one.

“Are you sick or something? We can get a doctor, if so”

“I'm sick, but I don't think it's that kind of illness,” you sighed.

"What do you mean?"

It was useless to keep hiding things from him, and who knows... that ingenious mind might even find a solution.

“I can't sleep, Willy. I don't understand why I can't, but I've had problems with that. I think it's called insomnia, or something like that” you began to explain, crossing your arms as if you wanted to protect yourself from the vulnerability “And it's horrible and it makes me feel stupid. I mean, who can't do something as easy as sleep?”

“Sometimes I don't get it either. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yes, I know, but…” you started moving your hands in the air, trying to find the right words to express yourself, “it's different. And I don't know what to do anymore, I can't sleep during the day because we work and I honestly feel like I'm going to collapse at any moment.”

Even though he was listening to you attentively, he didn't know how to respond for a moment.

“Do you think I look very bad?” you continued “You know, like… physically?”

“No, I think you look beautiful,” he replied, without thinking too much about it. “Maybe there's a little more pigmentation here…” his thumb slid under your eyes, in the place of your dark circles, and you smiled involuntarily “but nothing to worry about.”

You were reassured that you were still pretty in your friend's eyes, but you knew that the worried look on his face wasn’t in vain. You had to do something about it.

“Perhaps among your curiosities you have some chocolate that helps me sleep?” you joked, speaking only to the air.

But on his face you saw that expression of machination that suddenly emerged, almost as if a light bulb appeared over his head at the idea that was going through his head.

"Not yet. But it's an excellent idea."

“Oh, I wasn't serious…”

“But it’s brilliant,” he interrupted you. The dryer stopped and you knew the drying cycle was over, as should your conversation “Give me some time and you can sleep like a baby, I promise.”

That was perhaps his favorite thing: making promises. And of course, comply with them.

You wanted to answer him something, but a yawn preceded you and the man simply laughed at the irony of the moment.

“I guess I can't refuse now, can I?”

“As soon as I manage to do it, you will have it in your hands,” he said, excited.

With that the talk ended and you began to hang the clothes on a rope, returning to the day's work, but now with a better spirit in the hope that Willy could help you get what you wanted so much.

"Special delivery?" someone knocked on your door. You were like every night, just curled up in bed to hope for the best.

Willy was holding a small purple box with a red bow, which judging by the excited smile your friend had, you assumed was the remedy for your illness.

"It will work?"

“I hope so,” he said, entering your room to sit next to you on the mattress. “I'll stay here for a few minutes to make sure you can sleep and then I'll leave, is that okay with you?”

“It's excellent,” you answered nervously, while you took the candy that your friend had made especially for you. It was shaped like a small moon and glowed inside. “What is it made of?”

“I'll tell you in the morning, when you wake up.”

His feet moved slightly, showing his excitement, and that seemed to rub off on you. Glory seemed so close and you could reach it with a couple of bites, but before that you leaned down to wrap the boy in a hug.

“Thank you for trying this for me. I know it will work, but… even if it doesn't work, you know I appreciate it.”

“Don't say that, it will work” he replied, with complete confidence.

Without further ado, you put the candy in your mouth and tasted it. You couldn't identify any ingredients, but it tasted delicious and cozy, somehow. Although you wanted to compliment your friend's work just a second after the candy had melted on your tongue, you were already feeling how everything around you was becoming heavy, as if the accumulated fatigue had hit you suddenly.

You were already unconscious when Willy trapped you in his arms and laid you carefully on the bed, completely happy to see that his creation had had such an immediate effect. As a farewell, he covered you with a sheet and kissed your forehead, going to his room to recreate an entire jar of chocolates that would ensure your rest for long enough.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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madschiavelique · 5 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 — 𝟏

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x vigilante!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : you’d met them, became their teammate, and the one night you got severely wounded, they took you to their place to patch you up.

⟢﹒ content warnings : i am not a doctor nor do i have any knowledge on how to take care of wounds like that properly so very inaccurate patching up session, mentions of blood, wounds, mentions of needle (to saw reader’s wound), afab!reader, stubborn reader, but stubborn frank, no use of y/n, not proofread

⟢﹒ word count : 7,2k

⟢﹒ note : this is the first part of a 2shot where the second part will be a smut with hunter/prey dynamic ! have a good read <;33

⟢ next part : here

The clouds were brown tonight, covering the inky blackness of the sky like a mass of cotton gathering up the streetlights of Hell's Kitchen. Everything seemed to be reflecting off a lake, the puddles of rain from earlier in the day having settled on every rooftop in the city in a myriad of mirrors.

It was quiet, abnormally quiet even. Hell's Kitchen wasn't exactly your typical idyllic holiday destination; on the contrary, it was the place to flee if you had the chance. Crime had its patch on every street corner, and not a single day or night went by without something happening.

But now, nothing. No problems. No calls for help. Just the calm of an evening.

Sitting on the edge of a roof, your legs dangling boredly in the air, you listened to your little radio set beside your thigh, hoping that one of the police stations would report a problem. But everything was peaceful.

It had already been a few months since you had taken on the attire of the night, taken on the role of vigilante in Hell's Kitchen, and every evening you found yourself chasing crime out of town like a broom sweeping dust out of the way.

It wasn't necessarily an easy rhythm. After an already long day at work, you usually tried to get some sleep before starting your patrol. You'd realised that although there was no particular time for crime, most of them started after midnight.

But it was already one o'clock in the morning and there was nothing to report. You wondered whether perhaps you were doing your job as a vigilante too well. If you did, this kind of evening was set to happen, because if you did eradicate every crime all at once, there wouldn't be any left for later. The bitter reassurance that, unfortunately, crime, born since the dawn of time, would only die with men, gripped your heart.

The pace of it all was sometimes exhausting, but the advantage of all this was that you weren't really working alone any more. At first, the idea of joining forces with anyone to bring justice to the world of night seemed complicated, for several reasons.

Firstly, coordination: having team-mates implied having a certain connection so that even without words being spoken, everything ran smoothly.

And secondly, attachment. An environment like this where every night can be your last if you don't keep a minimum of vigilance can prove destructive. It would be too painful to lose an ally, and even more so if it was your turn to leave and they found themselves grieving.

But colleagues - no, partners? Friends? Whatever, the allies you found on certain nights were probably the most resilient human beings you'd ever met, to the point where the very thought of them dying was impossible. After all, when you're working with two people who have both withstood a bullet to the head and who are sure of themselves, you can't help but feel safe - or very small and miserable in their presence.

You had met them on patrol when the sounds of banging and groans of pain could be heard in an alleyway. Immediately, you had split the sphere of your personally modified Bolas and had helped in the fight after observing the side you had to take. Recognising criminals had become like a sixth sense, but above all you had recognised Daredevil's outfit in the semi-darkness and the silhouette that appeared to be that of Frank Castle.

You were familiar with the work of both of them, had seen enough of their appearances in the newspapers and heard their actions on the radio enough to know that the two men fighting the dozen or so others below were none other than these two.

You had helped them, immobilising a man here, strangling a man of the thread of your bolas there, while the two acolytes were both taking part in the fight. It was only at the end of the latter that the barrage of questions began.

"Who are you?" was of course the first question Matt asked.

"Who do you work for?" was the first question Frank raised, naturally.

It didn't take too long for you to explain that crime was swarming around the city like cockroaches in a dirty carpet and that you wanted to clean up just like them.

Frank was suspicious, Matt was calm, and you were sweating buckets, dreading their every reaction. They weren't exactly idols to you, but you had great respect for them.

It was when Matt agreed that you were sincere and that there was nothing to fear about you that Frank relaxed a bit, without letting go of his grouchy and suspicious attitude. You'd assumed at first that Frank wouldn't appreciate such a radical change of routine that included bringing a new member into the evening vigilante group, but Matt had assured him that having one more person would allow them to be more effective.

And soon, you'd be meeting up from time to time in the evening if you were lucky enough to bump into each other.

First, you didn't reveal your identity immediately. There was a kind of silent agreement between the three of you on the subject. Of course, Frank's identity was no longer a mystery, but Matt's remained particularly anonymous for a long time.

Once enough trust had been established for Frank not to grumble at you at every given occasion, you were officially introduced.

You learned that Matthew Murdock was a blind lawyer with very heightened senses, and that Frank Castle lived with him, taking on a series of remote jobs under a different identity since his name was not really known in a very positive way.

You didn't see each other outside of work, often too busy with your own lives to find time to see each other, even if you didn't discuss your free time... at first anyway.

You had exchanged phone numbers, in case an emergency arose and you suddenly needed help. Your exchanges were very cordial, sending addresses or locations when help was needed or to investigate something suspicious.

The first much less professional encounter was on a more turbulent night than the others, when you were cut badly on the leg, flank and arm, with an additional cut to your lip from a punch.

According to Matt, your costume was similar to the one he wore when he first started as Daredevil. Dark clothes, something to hide your face and combat boots, needless to say that with just these to cover you up, you were extremely vulnerable.

When the fighting stopped, you didn't even have time to wince in pain that Matt was already beside you with a glove off and removing his helmet as Frank observed the situation.

"How bad is it?" Frank had asked, tilting his head to the side as the fabric covering your body darkened with blood.

"As bad as it looks to you and feels to me," Matt sighed as his fingertips brushed the skin of your side.

"It's all right," you assured them, moving slightly away from Matt and his touch, "really, it's fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you can barely walk properly." Matt had asked, obviously knowing that no, everything wasn't all right.

Probably because he'd used that speech over and over again himself, that and the simple fact that your body looked like a cute little pinocchio with a nose extended to its ears.

"Yeah yeah, no big deal - argh!" you started before Frank put his hand on the gaping wound in your arm. “Hey!”

"No big deal, eh? If it was no big deal ya wouldn't be reacting like this."

"It's nothing, really."

You had no idea if you sounded convincing… well, from the look on both their faces, you weren’t. Frank crossed his arms over his chest, looking you up and down as he bit the inside of his cheek.

You felt tiny under his gaze like that, barely lifting your eyes to look into his. There was a dark insistence in his stare, and you could tell he was frustrated, only whether it was about you or the situation in itself you weren't sure.

"What d’you say Red ?" he said after seconds that felt like minutes.

You turned to Matt, his gaze fixed as usual on a point in the void. But that didn't stop his eyes from being expressive, and the rest of his face reinforced them. You watched in the half-light the way his jaw muscles twitched in the lamplight and your heart fell in your stomach.

"Our flat is closer to here than hers," was what he ended up saying.

Your heart went right back up your chest as you blinked fast, frowning at the sentence he had so casually said.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, "how do you know I'm-" but you didn't finish your own sentence before starting the next, "you followed me all the way to my place?"

Matt put both hands on his hips with a sigh, biting his lower lip before finally answering.

"We had a bit of a scare the other night when you were cut on the shoulder. We just wanted to make sure... that you got home okay."

Your lips parted in surprise, shifting then from Matt to Frank, who was looking at his feet as if the ground was far more interesting than anything he had to say at the moment. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

In a way, you found it strange that they'd followed you home without telling you anything about it, but Matt with his keen senses would probably have known where you were sooner or later. Besides, it was well-intentioned, and the sudden thought that they cared about you - no, about your state - was surprisingly heart-warming.

"In any case," Matt continued, clearing his throat, "ours is a lot closer than yours, and in your current state, you could do with some treatment when you get there."

"I'm not planning to stay the night, am I?" you laughed nervously.

"Why not?" said Frank, raising his eyebrows and his shoulders in one gesture.

From now on, victory would go to the one with the most convincing argument.

"Well, I've got work tomorrow," you began, already thinking about the pain you'd have to endure in the morning when you woke up.

You could still feel your warm blood clinging to your clothes, and the sensation was becoming increasingly unpleasant.

"Say you're unwell, isn't far off the mark," Frank replied, pointing with a lazy wave of his hand at your body.

"But I don't have any clothes to spend the night in." You retorted, although the argument was easily contradicted by Matt's remark.

"We'll lend you some, it's no big deal," he assured you.

"I don't have a toothbrush," you retorted, as if that couldn't possibly be of any importance in this setting.

"We're not Cro-Magnons, we have backup ones," Matt laughed softly.

It was becoming a little more complicated to come up with relevant arguments. The blood loss was making you dizzy, weak, and preventing you from standing properly without grimacing every second while focusing all your attention on each cut and the intense burning sensation it gave you.

It wasn't so much that you didn't want to go, because on the contrary you found yourself enjoying their company more and more. It was simply the fact that...

"I'm afraid of imposing myself on you and bothering you." You said, looking away.

You were colleagues up to now, people who shared a common interest in justice, and you didn't mind their company. Only, you'd added to the mix completely unexpectedly. They'd already been working together before, even living together. You didn't know a great deal about their private lives and here you were, the millstone, getting hurt in the middle of a patrol and not being able to make a move without everything hurting.

You turned towards them again. The look on Frank's face was like the typical reaction of a human being who has just witnessed the greatest absurdity of all, while Matt's mouth was half-open in surprise. It almost seemed to you that saying that simple sentence had been a mistake.

"That's it, you're coming with us," Matt confirmed.

"Definitely," Frank affirmed as he approached you and placed one of his hands behind your back.

"Hey wait-" you had no say in the matter, though, as Frank's second hand came up behind your knees and lifted you off the ground.

Your hands barely grasped the back of his neck, wincing as you writhed in pain. You wouldn't have minded being carried. The fatigue of the evening weighed on each of your limbs as if they were full of lead.

You knew how to walk, one step in front of the other like most, and the suddenness of being lifted so easily into the air felt funny. You couldn't help fidgeting, caressing the hope of finding a position more comfortable than one that made you feel every inch of your skin open to the night air.

"Stop movin’ like a chicken ‘bouta have its throat cut," Frank grumbled as the two of them started walking.

"Put it on the ground and the chicken will calm down," you breathed through clenched teeth of discomfort.

"It's not a very long walk, I promise." Matt reassured you.

You huffed, clutching the collar of Frank's jacket to prevent yourself from squeezing the back of his neck too hard and getting another remark. You were torn between the uneasiness of the stir he made with every step, which you felt in every wound, and the new comfort you found in the embrace of his arms.

You felt so... safe that way. And not just with Frank, because you felt the same sense of tranquillity with Matt. They were both involved in your life in such an unusual way and they still managed to make you feel comfortable.

You'd never been so close to him, snuggled up against him and held in his strong arms. As close as you were to his body, you could smell him. A mix of cool and warm.

He carried the smoky but crisp scent of the night, the fresh but dark air, like the smell of a just-cut apple leaving its cool scent on the blade of the knife that has just sliced it. And all of this was strangely relieving.

Your eyes drifted to his neck, which was inevitable considering how close you were to it. Your gaze focused on his Adam's apple, ready to be covered by his perpetual stubble, letting your eyes slide up to his marked, strong jawline. You weren't in the habit of observing someone so closely, especially when that someone was handsome.

The journey across his face continued, passing from his full lips, to his nose bumped by the many blows he must have received in the face, to conclude this pleasant silent voyage with his eyes. Beneath a pair of stern eyebrows were two onyxes, shyly illuminated by the few street lamps on the deserted streets you were travelling through. You had seen them turn black like those of a shark that had smelled blood.

If you didn't know that look would never be meant for you, you'd be afraid of them.

You'd spent enough time with them in combat situations to know that their rage alone could bring a man down with a look. You hoped you'd never have to pay the price of it.

But this close, you didn't feel in danger, although the very idea that such dark eyes of vengeance and bitterness and death might pass over yours made you shudder.

“You’re staring, little one,” Frank remarked, his gaze never wavering from the path in front of him.

Too embarrassed by your own behaviour, you nestled your head on his shoulder, resting your forehead on it as your neck and cheeks heated up. You felt a little foolish as you felt your heart beating frantically between your ribs, and the very idea that Matt could undoubtedly hear it made you want to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground and disappear.

When were you going to get to that bloody flat where you would - hopefully - never again have to be so close to one of them without your thoughts getting carried away ?

Your wishes were granted, as you soon found yourselves standing in front of a door that Matt habitually opened, letting Frank go first as he pressed you closer to him to get through the doorway. With a single breath, his scent invaded you more and more until, for a few moments, your thoughts were focused on nothing but him.

The sudden closeness of him made you feel your cheek brush against the nape of his neck, cool in the night air, but enough for your own skin to heat up slightly.

Internally, you were slapping yourself in the face. Now was not the time to let yourself be bewitched by your colleagues, although the fact that you would be spending the night with them would intensify those thoughts.

Your reflections kept you prisoner enough that you didn't realise until you'd climbed the stairs that you were about to enter Matt's flat. No... their flat.

This reality dropped into your stomach like a heavy stone. They're together, so don't try or think anything that might disappoint you. Tonight... It's just business. It's just help they're giving you, that's all it is.

Perhaps it was a cruel lack of affection that made you repeat all this to yourself, but whatever the case, your inner monologue gradually died down as your attention was drawn to the inside of the place.

It was big, really big for a flat, and for a moment the idea of Matt and Frank being rich occurred to you. It wasn't until Frank moved further into the living room that your eyes fell almost painfully on the neon lighting that illuminated the whole room.

And the more you looked, the more the charm of the place intensified. Of course, the neon had to be a problem. And yes, the walls had faded wallpaper and cracked paint. And maybe the windows could have done with a bit of a wipe down.

But the cosy atmosphere the flat had was delightful. The warmth that greeted you as you entered was gentle and reassuring. You noticed that there was little smell in the flat, nothing too strong at least so far.

"On the sofa, she's already lost enough blood for the evening," Matt pointed out as he left for his kitchen.

Ah, right, Matt's senses, you almost forgot. The reason for the absence of perfume or overpowering scents in their flat was surely that it could prove abrasive on his olfactory sensitivity and generally on his senses.

Frank didn't hesitate for a moment, gently lowering you onto the leather sofa, which you felt sink under your back. The sudden change of position made you wince and whimper, the pain of your wounds hitherto camouflaged by your comfort in Frank's arms resurfacing to inflame your skin.

Frank watched you for a moment, frowning as he observed with serious eyes the dark stains that soaked through the various fabrics of your outfit. Without a word, he walked away, and a few seconds later Matt appeared in your field of vision, a bottle of amber liquid in his hand.

"We're going to need you to take off your top and trousers, do you think you can do that?"

The heat rose to your cheek, making you realise that with those wounds on your body, it was inevitable that you would end up naked if they wanted to do anything to help fix you.

You pressed your teeth into your lower lip, keeping it prisoner for a moment and grunting as the gesture made you reopen your little wound.

"I'll try," you croaked, trying to unclench the hand that had been glued to your side until now.

The bleeding seemed to have eased, the blood slightly caking to your hand as you pulled it free with an exhaled whimper. The sudden contact of air on your skin felt like an icy slap, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm yourself.

Your head tumbling back on the comfortable leather, you tried to get your hands to the sides of your T-shirt, pulling at the fabric. The material rubbed against your gaping wound, and you gritted your teeth as you breathed heavily.

Matt swallowed, clenching his jaw before kneeling in front of you.

"I can help you, if you don't mind," he offered, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he began to remove your shoes.

Your reflex would usually have been to say no, your determination to achieve everything on your own without help from others blocking such opportunities. But the more you thought about it, the more the taste of resignation grew in your mouth.

At the rate you were going, getting undressed would take a considerable amount of time, time that Matt and Frank could probably have spent doing something more interesting than helping someone like you. So you gave in.

The blood from your split lip spilled back into your mouth, your tongue running over the cut and burning you. Wrinkling your nose in pain and breathing through your teeth, you nodded vigorously as you readjusted yourself on the sofa.

Matt sat up straight on his knees and faced you, his hands first feeling the leather of the sofa to find your thigh. He gently skimmed along the fabric, his hand brushing the wound on your thigh and making you grunt slightly.

"Sorry," he murmured softly. "The bleeding seems to have stopped," his confirmation letting his hand travel up to your waist.

His second joined in, avoiding the path of his twin again, and finding the sides of your top.

"Can you put your arms up for me?" he asked softly.

You swallowed, chewing the inside of your cheek as you took a deep breath. Then you did the seemingly impossible by lifting your arms. Your shoulders felt like they were made of lead, and your whole body seemed to be made of nothing but aches and pains.

When the fabric and movement rubbed against the wound on your arm, which you had barely raised, your hand instinctively came to press against it, letting a small, contorted whimper escape from your lips.

Matt let out a sigh, but he didn't seem exasperated or annoyed, more concerned or sharing your pain. Just then Frank came back into the living room, a first aid kit in hand as he came up beside you.

"We're going to have to cut your shirt off," Matt warned.

You sighed, feeling deeply incapable. When did taking off a shirt become so complicated? Every cut on your body was starting to burn severely, and you felt like throwing yourself into a lake of ice water to soothe the pain.

Frank pulled the scissors out of the kit, sitting down next to you and letting the sofa sink beneath him.

"We'll get you a new one," he promised as the cold kiss of the scissor blades touched your skin for a moment near the wound on your arm, bringing a short-lived respite.

Frank tugged at the fabric to pull it away from your skin, then after a few scissor strokes tore the material of your t-shirt as if it were paper with a sharp tear.

The cold skin of his fingers, still covered in the cool of the outside air, came to rest on your skin, and it was as if night met day, as the moon touched the sun with its fingertips, illuminating each of its craters and cuts.

Meanwhile, Matt unbuckled your belt gently, unbuttoning your trouser button at the same time and pulling on the fly until his fingers brushed the birth of...

"Sorry about the whisky but we didn't have anything else," he said apologetically as he took hold of the edges of your trousers.

"Aren't you guys sponsored by first aid kits at this point?" you asked through clenched teeth.

Waiting for Frank to move the scissors away from your skin, you raised your pelvis so that Matt could slide your trousers down more easily.

"There hasn't been any disinfectant in any of them since last night," he explained with a small smile.

The scene was strangely intimate, Frank's hot breath spreading across the back of your neck as he cut off your shirt, and Matt's hands sliding your trousers down your thighs.

You couldn't help but let out a grunt as the fabric of your pant leg brushed against the wound on your thigh, though Matt was doing his best not to cause you any discomfort, whispering small apologies as he did so.

You then realised the context of all this, and the heat rose to your cheeks when Frank threw the last shred of your old T-shirt somewhere in the background: you were in your underwear in front of them.

For a moment, their fingers on your body felt much less professional. The passage of their digits over your skin left behind a trail of sparkling powder underneath.

Placing a towel under your thigh, Matt indicated to Frank the bottle of alcohol which he uncorked.

"This might sting a bit," Matt advised just before Frank started pouring the cool liquid over the wound on your arm.

You stifled a muffled gasp, your thighs trembling slightly from the heat of your wounds. Matt's face scrunched up, his hands resting on your thighs in the hope of easing your pain or distracting you from the excruciating sensation you were going through. As for Frank, he didn't seem to give a damn, his face filled with his constant annoyed neutrality.

You had wondered several times whether Frank hated you, or whether it was difficult for him to stand you. Whatever the case, he didn't seem to have you in his heart. Maybe it was mistrust, but whatever the reason, he seemed irascible towards you.

He continued to pour the contents of the bottle quite generously onto your side, your eyelids closing so tightly that you felt you were seeing stars. You gritted your teeth so hard that for a moment they cut off your hearing, then released the tension.

"It's almost done," Matt murmured in the hope of encouraging you.

Frank ended up cleaning your trembling thigh. You brought your hand, closed into a fist, up to your mouth, biting the skin of one of your fingers to channel the pain.

Your head jerked back, breathing heavily as tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. The worst had undoubtedly just passed.

You heard them rummaging around in the kit, and as you straightened your head, you saw them pulling out needle and thread.

"No pain killers," you managed to say as your mouth felt almost pasty.

Frank chuckled, preparing the needle properly.

"Gotta get this done first, no painkillers for your princess ass now."

You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh.

"Silly me to assume you'd care." you mumbled, already feeling the discomfort from the alcohol on your gaping skin soften.

"It' all be over soon," Matt asserted, his thumb running over the skin of your thigh.

"And I who was looking forward to living in agony for the rest of my life,' you breathed.

Frank brought one of the armchairs closer to the sofa, needle in hand.

"Gon try and be gentle, softy." he added, the little nickname making you scoff.

"No, Frank, being gentle isn't your area of excellence. You shine mainly in murder and mutilation."

He raised his eyes to yours, still red and wet from your previous pain and reflecting the famous 'gentleness' he had shown in his actions. He frowned, but this gesture was unexpectedly accompanied by a smile mixing surprise and amusement, stretching his face in a way you'd never seen from him before.

He brought the needle up to your thigh, grasping the skin with his large hand as firmly as gently. He pierced it, making you wince at the sensation.

"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that," he finally said, his concentration seemingly unwavering.

But the simple idea of saying this when this same man was stitching you up at the moment only enchanted you for a short moment. He had a needle in his hand that he could very well stick anywhere but in the wound that needed to be closed. And although it was an immensely small needle, you were well aware that anything can become a deadly weapon if you have the will to use it.

So you said nothing, letting that little irritation fade away as you let yourself be stitched up. The pain was bearable in the end, nothing too horrible. It was better than going home and cauterising the whole thing with your straightening iron.

Now that the pain was more bearable, your attention eventually drifted to something other than that feeling, and more to the rest. The feel of their fingers on your body brought a whole new sensory experience, causing a warm cloud to settle in your belly.

Matt straightened up, your thigh already missing the presence of his hand on it. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing your arm without injury.

"Your lip's cut," he remarked.

"It's not the worst thing on the menu," you laughed nervously, immediately regretting your gesture as your smile stretched your lip and reopened it again.

He fumbled for the kit, taking a cotton ball and grabbing the bottle to soak it in.

"Here," he said, his hand coming to take your chin tenderly and turning it towards him.

He pressed the wet cotton to your wound, and you hissed as your nose wrinkled in pain.

"It might sting a bit when you drink," he murmured.

The proximity gripped your heart, Matt's face close enough to yours that you felt his breath hit your skin gently and evenly. You tried to calm your racing heart in your chest, swallowing as you let him finish disinfecting your lip.

You took the opportunity to watch him more closely, to see the way his stubble ran gracefully across his jaw, the way his brown eyes watching the empty space were full of softness, the way his lips, which you were used to seeing outside the mask, were full and pink.

He seemed incredibly gentle, and if you didn't spend some nights a week in his company fighting crime, you'd never have bet he was fighting like the devil himself: unleashed, full of rage, the taste of revenge and the desire for a better balance blinding him beyond measure.

"You'll take our bed," Matt said, Frank just finishing stitching up your thigh.

You immediately frowned, your lips parting.

"Since I'm on the couch I might just stay on it," you laughed nervously as Frank moved to the wound on your waist.

His hand grabbed your hip and pulled you to the edge of the sofa, looking up at you:

"Sit straight and still," he says in a tone calm but firm enough to convince you that he wouldn't repeat that command twice.

You straighten up slightly, letting him come and stitch up the wound in your side.

"Of the three of us, you're clearly the one who needs comfort and rest the most, not us," Matt continued, placing the now useless cotton wool on the table.

"I can assure you that I've rarely been on a sofa as comfortable as this one," you added.

You'd invite yourself into their home unannounced, they'd take care of you, and on top of that they'd make you sleep in their bed while they slept elsewhere?

"Do we really have to drag you there?" asked Frank, tugging at the thread.

"And let me squirm and ruin all your previous efforts on my wounds?" you huffed as you looked into his eyes, a muscle near your eye twitching as Frank continued his work. "I'd ruin your sheets, that's really not necessary."

"Listen-" Matt started, but you stopped him.

"No," you assured him, turning to him, "and anyway I can already feel sleep stalking me."

Frank breathed in as he opened his lips to speak and contradict you again, but you stopped him.

"Really," you assured him, "I'll take the sofa."

Frank bit his cheek in irritation, obviously not so happy to know that someone in this town shared being so stubborn. He turned to Matt, who also didn't seem to be enjoying the situation any more than that.

"Alright, but there's no way I'm going to hear you complain as soon as you wake up, is that clear?" finished Frank as he tied the thread over the cut in your abdomen.

"Scout's honour," you sighed.

As Frank started your last cut, Matt got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass. He filled it with water, while you and Frank seemed to be engaged in a stare-down between two obstinate, stubborn people.

"Thanks Matty," you thanked sincerely, taking the two delicious items in your hand.

He seemed surprised by the nickname, a nervous chuckle forming a smile on his lips.

"I'll grab you some clothes," he replied as he left for their shared room and began the process of changing his costume.

You placed the tablet on your tongue, then brought the glass to your lips. As promised, it stung. A cloud of red diluted on the contact with your lips, and as you observed it you wondered how you would justify it to your boss.

You sighed, reminding yourself that you should email them first thing in the morning to let them know you were absent. All you had to do the next day was explain that you'd been attacked in the street for stealing your bag, but you'd managed to get away, and that in a state of shock you didn't feel like coming to work the next day. This would probably do.

Frank finished stitching you up fairly quickly, and when he cut the last thread he still looked at you with that annoyed look he never seemed to shake off.

"Thank you, Frankie" you thanked, using the nickname in a more playful tone than you had with Matt.

He let out a single sharp breath from his lungs before getting up and leaving in his turn for the bedroom, from which Matt emerged in much more... normal clothes.

It was the first time you'd seen him in civilian attire, in a simple hoodie and jogging bottoms. Your eyes went wide, your mouth half-open for a moment, and you had to blink several times to pull yourself together.

"Here," he said, placing the pile of clothes next to you on the sofa. "Do you think you can stand this time?"

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, and everything else didn't burn as much as if hell itself had invited itself under your skin, you tried to stand up. You wanted to avoid any sudden movements, but eventually, with a bit of effort, you managed to straighten up and start pushing on your legs to get up.

Your knees trembled slightly from the stress and everything else that had gone with it during the night, and just as you thought you'd be sprawled out on the floor in the next few seconds, tasting the parquet floor, Matt grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him.

"Hey, take it easy little fawn, we don't need you damaging your nose on top of everything else," he laughed as he steadied you, letting your legs wobble a little more before you felt comfortable enough to stand.

Your whole body hurt like hell. And no wonder: in addition to your various cuts from the evening, your body was dotted with clouds of bruises that would make all the blueberries jealous of their colour.

"Let me help you," he finally smiled gently as he picked up the T-shirt from the pile.

He helped you into the top, taking care not to let the fabric come into contact with your freshly stitched skin.

"I'll need to borrow one of your shirts tomorrow when I leave," you said with a small smile, "mine's had a bit of a problem."

Matt laughed softly as he poked his head into your top. " May it rest in pieces."

You laughed softly at his little joke, slipping the rest on and feeling his hands roam over your covered skin, the size of the t-shirt far too big for you and reaching the top of your thighs.

Matt lowered himself to his knees in front of you, and you looked down at him as he rolled up the sweatpants so he could slip them around your ankle, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you could find some support.

The vision was heady, taking hold of your heart like an intoxicating scent you want to chase down so you can bury your whole face in it and never leave. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, to let them get lost in its meanders, to let your nails graze his skull before tugging lightly on it...

But you pulled yourself together, the thought once again creating a warm cloud in your lower belly as he straightened up and pulled the fabric up your legs, his fingers brushing your skin as if you were a statue forbidden to be touched.

"You're gonna have to see that with Frank though," he said as he tied the two laces around your waist, "it's his shirt."

That's how the same smell you'd first smelled when you were in his arms came back to mind, but you remained stoic, preventing yourself from grabbing the collar of the shirt and bringing it up to your nose.

"Challenge of the year," you sighed, smiling though, "thank you. For all of this."

"That's normal, it would be a shame if our partner found herself unable to exercise," he reassured you.

The word sent a shiver up your spine and into your cheeks.

"Red?" called Frank from the bedroom.

"Coming," he answered over his shoulder before turning away from you.

You sat back down on the sofa, tiredness beginning to weigh heavily on your eyelids. You lay down, the multiple events of the evening knocking you out more easily than any sleeping pill.

You had no trouble falling asleep, even with the neon lights on, even without a blanket, and even when the two of them came back into the room.

When you woke up, your back felt like it was sinking into a cloud. The surface you were lying on was soft, and when you turned on your side, your hand came to rest on a material that was not at all like the leather of the sofa: silk.

You propped yourself up gently on one elbow, observing the place you were in, and that's when you realised: they'd moved you into their bed while you were asleep.

"Bastards," you muttered, and bit your cheek to stop the little smile forming on your lips from breaking out.

A funny feeling sprang up in your heart, making it light and rosy. But that feeling quickly faded as you sat up straighter and your whole body ached. You felt like you'd just come out of a washing machine, all tossed and turned.

You stood up, trying to stretch but stopping immediately when the pain from your stitched-up cuts threatened to reopen. You didn't want to mess up their clothes, you'd probably never forgive yourself if that happened.

You came out of the bedroom and found Frank and Matt talking in the kitchen. Matt turned to you, sending you a smile.

"Good morning," he offered.

You were limping lightly, and bent slightly, walking slowly towards them through fatigue and pain.

"At last the groundhog graces us with her presence," Frank grumbled, turning to you.

"Am I rather not a sleeping beauty ?" you returned with a smile, "I wonder if sleeping beaty had a breakfast date when she woke up. I mean, look at me this is such a tempting offer," you said as your posture could easily have been a cross between an old lady and a pregnant woman, leaning on your hip, alternating between the curve of your back and the arch of it, making your whole body crack into a grimace of relief.

But surprisingly, they both smiled at your joke, and the awkward silence you might have expected or the abrupt change of subject to move on never came. But that didn't stop you from apologising on the spot.

"I'm sorry, I don't want my words to sound inappropriate, but I know that you two... well, you're..." together was the word you were looking for, but your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.

Try again, you thought. You'll end up rowing champion if you keep paddling like that. But Matt immediately reassured you.

"There's nothing to worry about, and besides, on my side you have to be forgiving when you don't have the 'pause' button."

Right, you thought, even though the heat was rising to your cheeks and neck enough for your cool hand to come and rest on it, massaging it nervously.

"I find you singularly witty, Red," Frank said, arms folded across his chest.

Of course, there was nothing new under the sun about Frank. His sharp tone brought you back to solid ground in no time.

"How are the wounds?" he asked as he turned to you, his eyes lingering for a moment on the fact that you were wearing his shirt.

"Very well," you assured him as you lifted the sides of your shirt to show the one on your side and the one on your arm, turning back to him, "I think the blue really brings out my eyes, don't you?"

He smirked, and you couldn't quite work out whether it was genuine annoyance or amusement. It all seemed a bit too perfect, and that's when it hit you.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed, looking for where they'd put your trousers where your phone was.

"What is it?" asked Matt.

"My boss," you said, searching the hallway and finding your trousers there, "I didn't tell him-"

"We called him this morning," pointed out Frank.

You stopped in your tracks, turning back to them.

"You what ?" you questioned.

"We called him," Matt informed, "we told him that we were close to you and that after you were mugged last night in the street you decided to stay home for the day out of shock."

"You-"

"It's all sorted, you don't need to worry," Frank grunted, taking his drink in hand, surely in search for you to shut up and let him enjoy his morning cup of coffee.

You stood there like a houseplant in the middle of the living room, and Matt invited you to take a seat for breakfast. Bemused, you took a seat and the three of you ate and chatted for a while.

Matt mentioned taking you to see a guy he knew so that he could cover you up with something other than such a simplistic and obviously flimsy outfit that could put you in danger again.

And after breakfast, you left at the same time as Matt, who was leaving for work. You said your final goodbyes and went your separate ways.

Little did you know the proximity of last night would change many things.

⟢ next part : here

381 notes · View notes

house-of-daena · 9 months

Note

al haitham is just Meant to take dick. he thought if he ever had sex with someone, he'll be the top, but when you came along with your massive arms that hooks right under his knees to pump him full with no way to escape, your massive thighs around his neck making him choke on the fat cock down his throat, and your filthy tongue whispering the most obscene things rigjt into his ears that he cant help but get so desperately turned on that he cums right away? the thought of topping gets thrown right out the window, he wants to be your pretty little pillow princess forever. he wonders how he got himself to this point, from being the cold, calculating grand scribe thats indifferent about most things and people to glancing at your lower half everytime you walk past and getting hard from just thinking about the risky things both of you could do in public space like this. how he donwgraded himself into a cock hungry whore, wanting to take you from every possible hole you can fit into. if it doesnt fit? he'll make it.

@pantalonte

IH MY GOD HI you just came out of fucking nowhere 😭😭😭 i am so normal about alhaitham .. why is he so.. fuckable to a fault...

nsfw utc

oh my god you have no idea how much i love idea of stripping him from his pride. like who would've thought alhaitham of all people would turn out such a whore for you,, people who notice wonder how you got the acting grand sage from this guy who's usually serious and cold to be looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

i like the idea of alhaitham watching you from the corner of his eye, then when you walk out of sight, to somewhere more private with a smirk on your lips, he just knows what you want, and he'd be stopping whatever he's doing, following you to where ever you went.

i hc that alhaitham has terrible oral fixation for your cock that if you don't let him suck on it for at least once a day he would go mad. he will be on his knees for hours on end, sucking your cock for all it's worth. he doesn't care if there's streaming down his cheeks, drool dripping down his throat and onto the floor, his thighs trembling, his lips all swollen and his jaw is aching. if you dont force him to stop, he will suck you until he can't anymore.

literally thinks about ur cock so much its not even funny,, like he's so addicted to it. sometimes he'd reflect on himself on how did he turn out like this, then he remembers every single filth that comes out of your mouth, and he's shamefully getting hard from it.

oh my god i bet he's read of so many books about how to take dick better. mostly so you can easily use him however you'd like. so don't be surprised for your cute lil scribe to have a plug up his ass when you bend him over his office desk :3

100% agree with you , he's just made to take ur cock no matter how much he tries to deny him :( also good i love imagining getting manhandled... yeah you're bending him in so many different positions as if he's nothing bc you just have complete reign on his body and he will never say no., he never fights it whenever you bend him like he's just some fuck doll >3<

make sure to degrade him when u fuck him! for a guy who is pretty prideful at times, his hole gets really tight when you call him your dirty little slut :3

#» asmo's thirst talks #sub genshin #sub alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #i've been dying to write other stuff but honestly this is a good warm up for my brain #ive been too lazy to write #anyone feel free to throw in thoughts here actually to get my brain working #sorry this was just word vomit but i needed to let it out HDKSADAS #ty for this brainrot #eating this shit UP ughrgh

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m00nsbaby · 10 months

Text

Sleepwalking. (Already over II)

Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.

First part: Already Over.

Next part: Clumsy.

Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.

Word count. 3.8k

Summary.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone.

The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.

Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.

He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?

His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.

"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"

There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.

"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.

Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.

"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.

"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.

The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.

"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.

But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?

"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"

As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.

Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.

"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."

"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"

Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."

There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.

"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"

More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.

The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.

"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.

"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."

The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.

"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."

"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"

There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.

The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.

Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.

First call, first voicemail.

"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."

Second call, second voicemail.

"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."

Third call, third voicemail.

"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."

Fourth call, fourth voicemail.

"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."

The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."

He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.

In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.

"Steven?"

"What?"

"The body."

"Huh?"

"Give me the body."

"What do you mean…?"

"I need to go talk to Layla."

"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.

The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Give me the body or I will take it from you."

Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.

That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.

"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.

"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.

It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.

He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.

He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.

And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.

On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.

Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.

Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.

Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.

"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.

He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.

Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.

The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.

And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.

It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.

"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.

You felt ridiculous.

You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.

It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.

You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.

You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.

Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.

You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.

A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.

Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.

Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.

Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.

Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.

On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.

On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.

Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.

He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.

"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."

Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.

Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.

The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.

You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.

He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Please."

Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Sekhmet?"

"Yes."

"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.

"And I told you I didn't care."

A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?

"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.

And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.

"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Everything was wrong.

"Steven?"

"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.

This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.

"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.

"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."

He broke down quickly too.

"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"

He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.

Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.

"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.

You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.

Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.

You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.

An eternity was not enough for either of you.

"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.

He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.

"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.

"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"

"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."

"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.

You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.

"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"

Bullshit.

You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.

"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.

Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.

"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.

Marc.

Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.

His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.

And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.

His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?

He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.

#jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x you #moon boys x reader #moon system x reader #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader

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bonefall · 2 months

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You can ignore this but I was just curious. What are your thoughts on redemption? I know modern day it means "character gets absolved of all wrongdoing and sin, and everyone forgives them yay!" But I'm talking more like, redemption as "Character acknowledges their actions and worldview was shitty, has apologized to all harmed parties, some forgive and some don't, but regardless character works on their issues and strives to become better"

I know characters are writing tools, so the message here would, in short, be "No matter what you can still work to be a better person". So I suppose I'm asking to what extent you agree. Sorry if this ask is everywhere I'm very sick at the moment.

I speak harshly of redemption arcs because I am actually an aficionado. I love them. I can't get enough of them, honestly. They're like eggs to me, I like 'em in all sorts of ways, devilled, omeletted, scrambled, but rotten ones are so bad you've gotta get rid of them immediately.

What often ends up setting me off about how redemption arcs are approached (and discussed) is the pervasive fact that people are more interested in sorrowful abusers than messy victims. They'll turn out to gush about how wonderful it is that Clear Sky cries about how sad murdering women made him, while not even recognizing Star Flower is self-destructing or Thunder is deflecting and misplacing.

It's like... even in fandom you will never get away from it. Your abuser is compelling and complex (meaning "was mean and sad at the same time"), and you're whiny and annoying ("ugh why is this traumatized person doing irrational things?! Don't they ever learn?!")

So when I write and when I talk, victims are always forefront in my mind. I'm really tired of stories that center Good Intentions or "but they loved you"

But anyway, digressing,

I agree. It really is never too late to work to be a better person. It's not even about apologizing, or making up for it, because sometimes you can't. "Sorry" will never undo what happened, and "sorry" doesn't even promise that real change is behind it.

So to me, a good redemption is just about exploring change.

Not suffering, I don't entirely like the idea that pain fixes pain, because it really doesn't. Reflection does. Genuinely understanding what was wrong and why you did it does. In spite of how cathartic it is to see someone get karma, I do hope that 99% of all people could be rehabilitated.

It's why I'm not fond of the phrasing where people want to deny redemption arcs because "they don't deserve it.' The WORLD deserves it. The people they will HELP deserve it. The person they will be deserves it. The question really is-- WOULD they change?

And the answer for powerful people is usually no. Power feels good. Gets you what you immediately want, makes it easy to surround yourself with yesmen who reinforce your excuses.

I think most people want to see others get better, but it's cathartic to me when some characters don't. Redemption arcs are wonderful things, but shouldn't be seen as the IDEAL ending for every villain, y'know?

#bone babble

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

IM WITH YOU FOR MORE FLUFFY FAE GHOST! FLUFF ALL AROUND PLEASE

So Love can call him with his name but what if she’s gushing about him to Liebling and it’s like that thing where your ears are ringing but he can hear all the nice things she’s saying and how in love she is

Yes yes yes more fluff for my favorite boy!!! Love gushes to Liebling about her boyfriend-husband all the time she loves him so much she can't help it. Liebling is jealous of how open Love is with her feelings but will never admit it.

Sometimes you get in these grooves monologuing on a single subject and you just can't stop. Like right now. Talking about your boyfriend.

"And he's really good with his hands," you gush.

"You already said he was good in bed," Liebling hums, flipping the page in her magazine.

"He is, but I mean like... artsy crafty stuff," you lean over the counter, not bothering to move much for the fae behind you. It's not like they're going to buy anything anyway. "Simon is weirdly really good at drawing, he's been helping me journal and he does these cute little doodles of anything I can't glue down. It's fantastic. Plus the bracelet, you've seen how cute the bracelet is."

Liebling hums again, you don't think she's listening but you don't really care. You don't want to stop talking yet so you won't.

"I know I should feel bad making Simon do so much for me, but he takes such good care of me. I mean look at my hair! Look at my skin! I'm fucking glowing, bitch." You hold your hair up to Lieblings face, you haven't had a split end in months.

She glances up at you and squints, then shields her eyes, "Yeah, you're like actually fucking glowing. Never seen so much gold on you."

You pluck at the tethers you can only feel, at the lightness and warmth in your chest. "Is it pretty? I can't-" you can't see it, you wish you could.

Liebling sighs and finally gives you a proper look. Still squinting at the light of it. You can almost see the glow reflected in her eyes.

"Yeah," she says with a small smile, "It's really pretty." You press your fingers against your smile, feeling the tethers you pull under your lips.

"Simon is so funny, he really wrapped me up in these things," not that you're complaining, the tethers feel secure, you've never felt this secure with anything in your life, "as if I'd ever want to leave him."

"Ghost freaks me out," Liebling mumbles, going back to her magazine.

"Alright well, you're a big baby, and I'm not scared of Simon. He's sweet. You're just jealous because König is a weirdo." You wave a hand, brushing off Lieblings frown.

"He's not a weirdo." You both glance at König across the shop, he's staring you down, his hand half way in a bag of potting mix. You turn back to Liebling who looks sensibly embarrassed.

"Anyway," you tell her, "Maybe if your shop wasn't so busy he wouldn't be masked up all the time. Simon's really cute under the mask, he's got these gorgeous sparkly brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I've ever seen, and our kids are gonna-" you bite your lip to stop the stream, your chest hot and pulling. You wish Simon was here, you always wish he was near you. You could call him, he wouldn't be mad, but you should be able to get through the day without him.

Liebling gives you a confused look, unsure if you're going to finish the monologue or if it's finally her turn to talk. "Couldn't tell you what König looks like, I try not to think about it." You'd wonder if it was that bad if her cheeks didn't turn red. Yeah. You bet she thinks about it a lot.

"Couldn't be me, I think about Simon all the time."

Ghost has never been more grateful for his mask. He's red, he can feel the heat of his blush burning to the tips of his ears. You're lighting up your tethers with kind words and compliments and his name falling like it's own desire from your lips. He leans against the table, dragging a hand over the skull mask. He wishes he could say he wants you to stop.

"Lighting up like a damn Christmas tree." Price gripes, ever observant as he blows off the smoke from his cigar. It swirls over the table, wrapping inquisitive tendrils around Ghosts whisps.

"His lass is name dropping," Soap tells him.

"The wife I haven't met yet." It's a dangerous truth, one Ghost doesn't have a credible answer for yet. He'll pay for it later, when Price finally does meet you. Right now it's nice having you all to himself.

"You're married?" Gaz asks across the table, Price throws another glare Ghost's way and nods.

"Wasn't my fault," Ghost tells him.

"Oh no, you should've seen this girl, absolutely brilliant, never seen anyone so-" Soap stops when he catches Ghost's glare, "Practically made to be ensnared," he whispers to Gaz, who grins.

"Gone after her like a proper fae, eh?" Gaz fixes Ghost with his ever observant gaze, "Didn't think you knew how to do that."

Ghost feels all his tethers pull tight, every nerve buzzing with you. "Gotta go," he tells the group quickly, not bothering to finish his bourbon before dropping his coin on the table, "the Missus calls."

"Bring her around sometime," Price leans back in his chair, "or I'll start making house calls." Soap and Gaz exchange a look, Ghost winces and nods before letting the shadows carry him away.

#fae!Ghost #Fae!Soap #fae!gaz #Fae!Price #“Someday our kids are gonna smile like him” Love thinks to herself #and immediately is like “fuck wait do I want kids??”#I've changed my mind I think Liebling and Love are besties #I just think it's a black cat and golden retriever friendship #the anxiety disorder and the girl who has never worried about anythin in her life #they wouldn't be friends without their boyfriends but they're besties now #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #x reader #oc: love #oc: liebling

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kpopscruggles · 4 months

Text

pretty - Anton

note - just a random filthy shit I needed too get off my chest

"You don't have to be shy..." Ugh, he was so cute, something about Anton just struck me so hard I could almost cum at the thought. I know it sounds so filthy but he was perfect in the most lewd way possible, he was seducing me every second without even realizing it. Sometimes I wondered if he had done it on purpose...maybe he was pulling some facade to make me want him in a way that would take me from every man on planet Earth. He was, he had to of... because nothing was going to turn my eyes away from this man. "Go on, you can be comfortable with me you know...". His voice was so soft and sweet as he flashed a tiny smile..sickening.

I could feel the large gulp of air I took as I watched myself in the mirror, sitting so gracefully on his bed as I felt him kneel behind me. His hands ran to wrap around my waist, then ran from my waist to my clothed chest. His large hands gripping them tight while the sigh left his lips "Your so pretty.. aren't you?" he added as I saw that sweet smile in our reflection. "Say it…I want to make sure you know.". his tone was twisting my insides, how could someone be so demanding but so well to hide it behind a sweet and soft voice? I watched as he ran his hands back down to my hips and into my shirt "Pretty girl~ pretty..pretty girl…".

"I'm a pretty girl", "louder", "I'm a pretty girl". I gulped once again at the repeat of my words, I let out a breath feeling his bare hands on my skin before hearing him chuckle. "See~ that wasn't hard at all now was it? You'll be doing it more often for me, won't you?", I nodded before lifting my arms and letting him pull my top off. "If only you saw how men drool at you, how I drool at you like a starving dog…maybe deep down that is all I am to you huh? A starving dog who wants to taste you?" he smiled before placing a kiss on my cheek. "Well…I am, I am a starving dog, your nasty starving dog who just wants you to feed me in any way..".

I felt my heart pounding out of my chest as I bit my bottom lip before watching my bra fall to the floor. A small whimper left me as I felt him grope me once again, his fingers slightly rough but at the same time so soft. Feeling my nipples harden I watched as his middle and index finger ran against the pad of his tongue before ending right back at my sensitive bud. A gasp left me as I leaned back against his chest, watching how my nipple hardened as he circled his fingers over them. I could hear his small pants in my ear before feeling his teeth nibble on my earlobe and then leaving a small kiss. "My cute girlfriend, your all mine right? please, please, please, say you are" he added before I watched him smile even bigger once I nodded.

Hands trained down my body before running right over my pussy, "I love your pussy too, its always so warm and wet…always leaking with every compliment I give you…It's so cute". I pulled down my pajama shorts before spreading my legs watching my cunt glisten from the bedroom lamp. His slender fingers tease me by slightly pushing in my hole, feeling his fingertip pull away I sighed "Just look at you, I can't wait to make you cum". Pushing his fingers in completely he playfully gasped with me, I felt aches beginning in my clit as it swelled from the need to be touched. With my free hand, I inched my fingers to my clit giving it a small tug before swirling in light circles making me groan.

"I love the way your pussy feels, how it welcomes my fingers…" he sighed before moving my head and placing his lips against mine "I'm having so much fun with you". I couldn't help but flush as he smiled "I really can't wait to have you wrapped around me…would you like that? I would..". Once again that sweet tone taunting me with me most filthiest words, he was going to be the death of me. I gasped feeling him remove his fingers before moving from behind me to the side of me. I accepted his few kisses before I watched him bite his bottom lip.

I moved my eyes down, his shirt now fallen beside my feet, From the corner of my eye I watched him unbutton his jeans. Pulling them down just enough to reveal his begging bulge being held by his briefs, looking up at him I watched him smile "You should show me how good your pretty lips are". His breaths getting louder as I saw him watch through the mirror, my lips running against his bulge before finally pulling it from his briefs. A small chuckle left him as he played with his nipples, running his thumb against them and letting small whimpers leave his lips. I watched his cock twitch slightly at his touches, looking back up at him I then slapped his leg causing him to gasp "Again~".

I watched him chew on his bottom lip in anticipation before I slapped the head of his cock once again "Mhm~" He smiled before letting his head fall back. Squeezing the head I could hear his whimpers grow louder, This was exactly my weakness. He knew he was strong enough with words to get me to stop, he knew he was strong enough with actions too. He didn't do a thing though, he sat there and took it which revealed how needy he was. How much of a tease he was even towards himself.

"H-harder~ sq-ueeze it tighter!" I did just that watching him squirm just enough to have him slip from my hands. He wasn't getting away that easily, I watched as his tip went from pink to a crimson red from how irritated it had gotten. "Suck me off~ I wanna cum on your tongue!". I smiled seeing his flushed face before nodding "Don't worry, I'll make sure you cum..".

#riize smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #anton smut #anton hard hours #anton hard thoughts

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snootlestheangel · 5 months

Text

A Very Unique Ghost Headcanon

My friend and I got lunch together today and we went to a bookstore afterwards for a bit. An idea about Ghost had spawned so here's the whole thing.

*Does contain MW3 spoilers towards the end*

When Ghost is on leave, he spends a lot of time at a local bookstore. The staff and other locals began calling him "a ghost" because he's very quiet and appears for several days every few months. He's always very quiet and seems to "appear and disappear" randomly. He eventually spends so much time there, pretty much everyone knows him. Not by name, but they recognize him/when he's in town. They know he's a bit weird based on all the things he reads. He goes from reading really deep books about self-improvement to horror/true crime novels to silly animal fact books and laughing cause "penguins are silly". He's very kind though, everyone knows, and is always willing to grab something off a high shelf or assist an elderly person in carrying their items.

There's a table that's basically reserved for him now, sitting in the back corner of the bookstore's little cafe. There's always a stack of books that he wants to read sitting on the table. Sometimes the stack remains untouched for several months before "Ghost" is seen again. Sometimes, he comes back a bit more ragged than normal, and even sometimes more he comes back with an arm in a sling and a limp. But everyone gets used to the presence that is their local cryptid, even if he isn't much of a conversationalist.

Then they realize he journals everything he reads. He likes to write about all the things he learned while reading that day, and is diligent about dating everything.

This habit spawned from a few years he spent giving himself therapy because the military believed him dead, and he couldn't afford one outside of it. So, he took to the bookstore and it's nice section of self-improvement books and the mental help journals. He realized he actually really enjoys journaling, and likes being able to reflect back on all the things he read that year.

But he leaves the journals at the table with the books he has yet to read. And some people start getting curious. And someone reads the journals. They know it's horrible, but they figure there can't be anything personal if the man is willing to leave the journals unattended for months at a time. And that's when everyone learns he's actually journaled everything he's read for the last 4 years (how long it took him to get into that habit), and it's an incredibly fascinating read.

He's very well-spoken about the things he discusses, and his handwriting is pleasant and easy to understand. Not to mention, he only uses pen, and the fact he sometimes has to scribble out mistakes makes the journals feel familiar in a human way. There's something so personal and intimate about it, and it all adds to the local myth of the ghost that haunts the bookstore.

But then one day, the regular people that read the journals realize Ghost has started to mention someone within his readings. It starts small, a little comment on a book he read about the history of explosives: "I blame JSM for me reading something like this. It's fascinating stuff, and they have grown rather complicated these days. Wonder if there's more on modern explosives."

Just the initials: JSM. What they don't know is the initials belong to one John "Soap" MacTavish, the man to hold Ghost's heart.

And for a while, there's a lot of entries including the initials "JSM" somewhere in their contents. Some entries are almost entirely relating to this "JSM" person. And it's clear, as the mentions of "JSM" increase, that Ghost has fallen madly in love with whomever this is. And the people that read the journals have grown fond of Ghost, and are cheering him on, hoping he gets his happy ever after.

But then Ghost doesn't show up for over a year. The stack of books remains the same, the journals untouched.

But when he does, something's different. He immediately heads towards the section on "Grief and Loss". He stands there for an overwhelmingly long time before picking a couple of books and heading for his little table in the back.

And he reads, and journals, and cries all at the same time. No one even realized he was crying until a staff member passed by and noticed the tears falling from his eyes as he scribbled into the journal. No one bothers him, of course, but there's an overwhelming sadness that passes over the bookstore that day.

No one's brave enough to read the entries from that day, and they let the journals sit overnight. Ghost is back the next day, does the same, and leaves. Doesn't spend hours just simply perusing, but instead sits and reads the books he collected on grief/personal loss and journals.

But one day, after Ghost stops showing up again, becomes brave enough to read the journal entries from the last 3 days.

Word spreads like wildfire.

JSM is now Johnny and Johnny is gone.

It all makes sense, and all the regulars, all the staff that are familiar with Ghost and his journals mourn. They mourn on Ghost's behalf and they mourn for Ghost.

They mourn for him because the way he wrote changed, the way he spoke in his entries changed, his demeanor when in the store changed. They mourn Ghost because clearly Johnny took a part of him with him; his heart.

One day, there's a book about coping with losing your spouse, specifically geared towards younger people (especially ones in Ghost and Soap's age range *25-35*). There's actually no journal entries specified for most of the book, almost like he simply read it and didn't bother sharing his thoughts.

That is until the end of the book, where there's one journal entry marked to accompany the final chapter.

{I've read this book probably ten times now. The first time was actually the easiest. It was new to me, and I enjoy picking apart new books and getting through them. The second time was the hardest. It's when the words I had already read were starting to sink in. Too quickly I had been brought back to that day I lost Johnny. I didn't dwell too long on this book. I didn't want to, at least. But I kept going back to it because I knew it had answers and solutions. In reality, it didn't really help. It more took the mess in my head and sorted it out so I could deal with it more easily. I miss Johnny more than anything else in life. Losing him has been the worst thing I've ever gone through. Which is quite impressive, considering some of the things I've experienced. This book has taught me many things, and I only wish to share the one I feel speaks the greatest volumes. "But like all wounds, it takes time to heal a broken heart." What an incredible lesson. I've had my fair share of wounds to heal from, and I am painfully intimate with the recovery process of broken bones. Never once did I consider my heart something that could be wounded and recovered from. I always figured if my heart had been wounded, then that would be the end. But I was wrong. A heart can be broken and wounded, and like all injured things, it can heal. It's a beast of a recovery process, I won't lie, but the idea I'm merely recovering from a near-fatal injury comforts me. It's morbid, I suppose, to be comforted by that, but I am. It means he didn't die in vain, and that is all I ask for.

~Simon "Ghost" Riley}

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley headcanons #mw3 spoilers

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dccomicsimagines · 5 months

Text

Gift Exchange Mayhem - Young Justice Imagine

Requested by Anon - Can I have the team doing some last minute shopping for Christmas?? Maybe the reader waits until the last minute and needs help??

Author's Note - Happy Holidays! I finally was able to finish something.

***

"Dismissed," Batman said, waving his hand as he turned back to the computer to finish up whatever paperwork he had. The mission had gone well, so the debriefing wasn't too painful.

At least for everyone else, you found it excruciatingly slow. Every minute was a minute closer to the Christmas Eve party and the gift exchange.

Everyone moved off. You stayed where you were until you saw M'gann and Conner walk completely out of the room.

You turned, scanning the room until you saw Artemis heading toward the locker rooms. Dashing after her, you grabbed her arm. "I need your help," you whispered, voice tight with the brewing storm of panic in your chest.

"Ow," Artemis hissed, jerking her arm away. "What do you want, weirdo?"

You swore you saw Batman glance over from the corner of your eye. Your breath caught in your throat. "I need help, but we can't talk about it here. Please?"

Artemis sighed, but gestured for you to follow her. You quickly fell into step beside her.

The two of you walked in silence until you made it to the library. She spun on her heel and crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

You admired how cool she looked in this moment. You wished you could be cool. "I..." You swallowed away your insecurities. "I need help finding a gift for the gift exchange."

She raised an eyebrow. "You haven't gotten one yet? It's tomorrow."

"I know!" You threw up your hands, shaking slightly. "I couldn't focus on it, because I got M'gann and I knew I would blow it in the mind link at some point, so I decided I had to not think about it at all until the last minute. That way, she can be surprised."

Artemis sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why do you always do this shit?"

"I wanted it to be good. It's her first Christmas on earth and she's already excited, but I don't know what to get her." You bit your lip and blinked back tears.

"Why can't you ask Conner? I got things to do." Artemis narrowed her eyes with that steady frown she was always inclined to give you.

You groaned. "I can't ask Conner, then she'd know. That boy doesn't hide anything from her anymore."

She rolled her eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Okay, fine."

A grin burst onto your face. "Thank you!" You almost reached out to hug her, but she held up a finger to stop you. Your face burned. "Sorry. Can we go now after we change?"

"Sure." Artemis left the room. You let out a sigh to calm your heart.

***

Artemis' head ached at the bright lights of Star City's Megamall. Christmas music blasted throughout the place as people hurried about.

"Luckily, the west coast is still open huh?" You laughed, nudging her side.

Artemis swallowed back a biting retort. "Yep." You stopped by the big tree in the center of the main entrance. Glancing around, you seemed just as lost as you always were. Irritation bubbled up inside of Artemis. "Let's go. We don't have time. It closes in two hours."

You flinched slightly. "Right." You hurried off to your left, leading the way past a bunch of clothing stores.

Artemis took a deep breath. She shouldn't be so annoyed really. What other plans did she have today anyway? All she was going to do was go home and hang out with her mom. Christmas didn't mean much in the Crock household. Just a time where there was no school and a lot of Dad.

She shook her head. 'Reflect upon your present blessings of which every man has many - not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.' It was a quote from Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens. A early present to herself when she spotted it in a thrift shop during her Christmas shopping.

You started to head into Spencer's, but Artemis snatched your arm. "No."

"Why?" You blinked. Sometimes Artemis wondered if you were also from Mars.

"There will be nothing for her in there, come on." Artemis pulled you along.

You bit your lip. "I don't know where to even start. What does M'gann even like anyway?"

"Conner." She snorted when you seemed to think she was serious. "You can't give her Conner."

"That would have made things easy. I could just put a bow on him." You dodged a family who was running to the mall.

"You're so weird." Artemis crossed her arms. "Let's go here." She walked into a trendy clothing store. It smelled expensive. Artemis' skin crawled.

You glanced around. "I can't give her clothes. She has...clothes that can be anything."

"Just look around!" Artemis snapped. She saw you deflate in the corner of her eye. She should be nicer to you, but...you were so annoying. You moved away from her to look at the wall of perfumes.

Artemis made herself browse at the other side of the store, ignoring price tags and just looking. Like a normal girl.

***

You sniffed at a perfume. It could work for M'gann, except you didn't know if it would be like giving her clothes. You haven't noticed her making a scent when she shifted her clothes.

Biting your lip, you glanced over to find Artemis across the store. She held up a nice brown moto jacket to herself. A hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too until her face dropped at the sight of the price tag.

"Well, well, well, you went shopping?" A creepy laugh followed. You turned to find Robin in civies with sunglasses over his eyes. He glanced over at Artemis. "With Artemis?"

You slapped a hand over his mouth. "Are you alone?" You looked around wildly. Your heart stopped when you saw Wally, Kaldur, and Roy standing outside the store with big soft pretzels. Kaldur eyed his while Wally and Roy munched down.

Rob pushed your hand away. "We all saw you two sneak off and got concerned since Artemis and you...never mind."

You pursed your lips, wondering what he meant. However, you had other concerns. "Conner and M'gann aren't with you, are they? Please tell me, they aren't?"

Robin snorted. "Those two are occupied." He crossed his arms. "What? Did you have Conner as your secret santa?"

"No, I have M'gann and I don't know what to get her!" You blushed as your eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to mess up Christmas!"

"Woah, stay whelmed." Rob held up his hands. "Deep breaths." He took a deep breath. You copied him. Your heart slowed down. "Why did you wait until last minute?"

"I would have spoiled it through the mind link at some point. You know how I get distracted, so I made myself not think about it until I knew we wouldn't have another mission." You took another deep breath. "And I asked Artemis because she knows a lot...but...you know she's not happy about it." You saw Artemis march over to Roy, Wally, and Kaldur. "But she said yes."

Rob hummed, rocking on his heels. "We can all help you out with that." He nudged your arm. "Come on, I have an idea."

You grinned, skipping after him. Robin always knew what to do, even if he liked to sneak up on people.

***

Kaldur watched as you, Dick, Wally, and Roy headed across the way into another store with bizarre decorations. Artemis groaned and flopped onto a nearby bench. She crossed her arms, muttering how this was all a waste of time.

"Would you like this..." Kaldur held out the untouched pretzel. He didn't like the look of it. Plus seeing Wally dunk it into some plastic-like yellow substance made Kaldur's stomach turn.

Artemis took it and bit a chunk out of it. Kaldur sat down beside her. He looked around at the bright, shiny walls of the mall. The crowds were lightening now as it neared closing time.

"It was kind of you to help (Y/N)." Kaldur smiled as he saw Wally teasing you. You stuck out your tongue in return.

"A mistake. They are so helpless." Artemis took another big bite.

Kaldur's heart fell slightly. He knew Artemis didn't have a high opinion of you and wasn't shy to voice it. She often didn't care if you heard. Kaldur had to comfort you more than once.

"I know (Y/N) can be challenging." Kaldur pursued his lips, carefully choosing his words. "Not everyone is raised with the same experiences. That is what makes the world a more...intriguing place."

Artemis eyed him. She swallowed. "I'm being nice."

Kaldur nodded. "You are." He met Artemis' eye. "(Y/N) thinks a lot of you." You gestured for both of them to join you. Artemis avoided his gaze and yours. Kaldur saw you frown.

"I got to go. Thanks." Artemis stood up suddenly and walked off. Kaldur watched her go with a sigh. He got up and joined you and the others, hoping his words sank in.

***

You brushed away Wally's hand as he reached to tug your hair again. "Where's she going?" You asked as Kaldur approached.

"I believe she is heading home. Her mother was expecting her," Kaldur said kindly. You nodded. Maybe she wanted to get home earlier too? That's probably why she snapped at you.

"I think you could go for something space." Roy held up a metal print of a space nebula.

"Isn't that racist? She's from Mars. It would be like getting Kaldur something from the ocean," you said, waving the print away. "It needs to be good."

Rob tugged you deeper into the store where they had a retro tv show section. Roy followed the two of you, hands deep in his pockets. You noticed Wally and Kaldur stayed back, whispering to each other.

Your face burned as goosebumps appeared on your skin. You hated when you felt like you did something wrong. Was asking Artemis wrong? They didn't need to worry about your feelings.

Honestly, you only cried once. You gotten tougher over the last few months, or at least you waited to cry until you were alone.

"Hey, you with us?" Roy nudged your arm. You gave him a quick smile and moved to look through another stack of metal prints.

Robin and Roy joked with each other. You sighed, moving to the next stack. Kaldur and Wally joined them.

Suddenly, right after you paged through several tv shows you didn't know, you came across a sparkly Hello Megan print.

"Yes!" You held it up like it was priceless.

"Look at that. She'd love it," Wally said, grinning. "And you didn't need anyone's help."

"Well, you did direct me to the right store." You hugged the print of your chest. "She's gonna love it. Too bad Artemis didn't stay to see it."

Roy scoffed, but Kaldur quickly elbowed him in the side. "She'll see it when we open gifts tomorrow," Roy said, rubbing his side.

You hummed, studying the print again. "It's perfect. Good thing you four stalked us to the mall." Robin and Kaldur blushed. Roy just smirked.

"Hey, I wanted to come to the mall anyway." Wally shrugged. You narrowed your eyes knowingly. He blushed as red as his hair.

"He really just wanted to follow Artemis," Roy mumbled in your ear before flopping an arm around your shoulders to lead you toward the checkout. "Come on, let's buy this thing and head out."

You let Roy pull you along, giggling in delight.

As you all headed out of the closing mall, you passed the clothing store you went in with Artemis. The moto jacket was still there. You bit your lip.

"(Y/N), are you coming?" Kaldur asked when he noticed you stopped. Robin and Wally were teasing each other. Roy stopped with you.

"I need to make another stop. Like really fast." You flashed them a smile and headed into the store.

***

"Ekam ti elkraps," Zatanna said, waving her hands. The Christmas tree in the center of the living room lit up. You clapped your hands.

"Thanks Zat. The lights were getting the best of me." You laughed, tossing the jumble of Christmas lights back into the box.

"No problem." She sneezed. Zatanna had been down with a cold for the last two weeks. She was finally back on her feet just in time for Christmas.

You were glad, especially since this was her first Christmas without her dad. It was your job to keep her busy per Black Canary's request. Of course, keeping people busy was your specialty.

Zatanna stared at the tree. You saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Alright." You clapped your hands. She looked back at you, blinking rapidly. "I think all this work calls for some Christmas cookies."

"But those are for the party?" Zatanna crossed her arms. A genuine smile on her lips.

"Yeah, but we also decorated the place for M'gann, so the least she could do is let us have some early. Besides, Wally will eat them all if we don't get some now." You led her to the kitchen where M'gann was pulling more cookies out of the oven.

You made sure to not think about your gift for her, just in case she was listening to your thoughts.

M'gann's back was turned as you went to the cooling rack and stole two snickerdoodles with red and green sugar. Zatanna pointed to the M&M cookies and you took two of those too.

"You could ask," M'gann said without turning around.

"What?" Your eyes widened. You quickly handed the cookies to Zatanna. "Ask what?"

M'gann turned to look at you. She smiled and shook her head. "Enjoy your cookies and thank you doing the decorations."

Zatanna and you shared a look before giggling. "Thanks M'gann," Zatanna said as you both slipped away.

You took a big bite of cookie. Zatanna nibbled on hers. You both sat down on the couch in the living area and watched the tree sparkle away.

"Z, did you cast a spell on the tree?" Artemis came around the corner. She saw you and you saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes. You didn't know what that meant.

"Yeah, the lights got the better of us," Zatanna laughed, offering Artemis her other cookie. Artemis took it and sat down next to Zatanna.

You wanted to ask her if she was okay or at least thank her for yesterday, but you knew she wouldn't take it well. Besides, M'gann might overhear that you went shopping.

So you stayed quiet, listening in as Artemis and Zatanna talked.

***

"This is amazing!" M'gann gasped as she ripped off the paper to reveal the Hello Megan print.

You tittered, rocking back and forth while hugging your knees to your chest. You sat on the floor of the living area with Wally, Zatanna, and Robin. Artemis, Kaldur, Conner, M'gann, and Roy took the couch and chairs.

Wally poked your side. "She's gonna know it's from you if you keep doing that."

"They're excited. Shut up," Zatanna hissed, poking Wally. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. However, you still felt like you could burst.

M'gann hugged the print to her chest. "Thank you so much, (Y/N)!" She looked at you. You grinned back.

"Wow, that was a quick guess." Roy rolled his eyes at your giddiness.

"(Y/N) broadcasted their delight. Like almost screaming it." M'gann laughed, handing the print to Conner before flying over to give you a big hug.

You hugged her back, giggling uncontrollably. "I'm glad you love it!"

M'gann pulled back and sat back next to Conner. Conner put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. Your heart melted. Those two were always so cute.

"Not cool at all," Artemis muttered under her breath. You glanced at her to find her shaking her head at you. A jolt ran through you, but you quickly turned to blink away the burn in your eyes.

"Who's next?" Robin asked, looking around.

The exchanged continued. You played with the edge of your cozy blanket you had received as your gift. Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile on your face. You wouldn't cry on Christmas.

***

Artemis yawned as she made her way toward the zeta tube. Her new set of books under her arm. The party had died down. Artemis was the first to head home. Her mother was waiting for her.

"Hey Artemis," you said. She heard you jogging up behind her. She had to hold back the eye roll before turning.

"Yes?" She hugged her books to her chest. You stumbled a bit, tripping over the blanket you had wrapped around you.

"I..." You coughed, blushing slightly. "I wanted to thank you for coming shopping with me yesterday."

Irritation crawled up inside her. "You're welcome." She kept her face blank.

You smiled a little. Artemis took a deep breath at the moment of silence.

"Well, Merry Christmas." You pulled a nicely wrapped package from under your blanket and held it out.

Artemis flinched, blinking. "What's that?"

"A present." You bit your lip, looking down shyly. "For you. I know you...think I'm annoying. I'm working on it, I promise." You glanced back up at her. Artemis couldn't stop the guilt that sank her stomach. "Anyway, I hope you like it."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I got to get home."

"Yeah, have a good night." You waved, backing away before tripping over your blanket.

Artemis shook her head as you rushed back out of the room. She looked down at the present. It was nicely wrapped. Guess they aren't clumsy about everything, she thought.

She sighed before ripping it open. Her jaw dropped to the floor when she found the soft leather of the expensive brown moto jacket inside.

Setting her books on the ground, she slipped on the jacket. It felt smooth like butter. She hugged herself.

"Nice jacket," Wally said, walking into the room with a gift bag in hand. "Where you get it?"

Artemis pursed her lips. Rot ate her up inside. "(Y/N)."

Wally whistled. "It looks amazing, babe." He grinned. "(Y/N) must really like you. I know when I first met them, they gave me a PlayStation. I couldn't believe it."

"Really?" Artemis played with the sleeve of the jacket. "I should give this back to them."

"No, you'll just make them feel bad. They wanted you to have it." Wally held up his hands. "Listen, (Y/N) really cares about what you think of them." Artemis' eyes widened slightly. "So maybe...just try to be a little nicer to them...not that you're not." Wally blushed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

Artemis rolled her eyes. "I know I'm not, Baywatch." She let out of breath, admitting she always noticed that you took any comment she said hard. How many times had she made you cry? "I'll be nicer."

Wally grinned, nudging her arm. "Thanks."

Artemis punched his arm back. Wally dodged it, laughing. She snorted and picked up her books before trying to get him.

***

The next time you saw Artemis, she was wearing the jacket. You actually started jumping with excitement. However, you forced yourself to be cool as she approached you.

"Thanks for the jacket. I needed a new one." She met your eye before giving you a genuine smile. You felt your eyes widen as you couldn't recall another time she smiled at you.

"You're welcome." A big grin pulled at your lips. You rocked on your heels.

Artemis walked away to go to talk to Zatanna, who was across the cave with Robin. You watched her go, letting yourself bounce a little with glee.

M'gann flew up beside you and gave you a hug. You hugged her back. "Try to get back to whelmed," she whispered in your ear. You nodded, taking a deep breath. However, you felt that you could maybe count Artemis as a friend and nothing could be better than that.

#young justice'#young justice imagine #young justice x reader #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #artemis crock #artemis crock imagine #artemis #artemis imagine #christmas #yj x reader #yj imagine

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mysterycitrus · 5 months

Note

All of your Bruce takes are so real and so true. It must break your back having to carry the weight of being the most correct batman account on this website. 🙏🏻 I love your thoughts about Bruce and Dick in particular and I was wondering if you had any thoughts about Bruce and Damian? Something about them is just… oh boy.

that’s very sweet but untrue, anon 🫰

i love damian and bruce's relationship, but it's hard to talk about without mentioning two other crucial people - talia and dick. for my own sanity i only accept damian's conception as a consensual act, so in this context talia is a fundamentally well-meaning person who attempted to protect her son from a violent life, and hid his existance from bruce until she felt he could be safe. damian loves and respects his mother. this is important.

dick, on the other hand, is really the foundation for their relationship. bruce spent like two weeks with this kid before he went on his timestream roadtrip and left everything behind for dick to juggle. contrary to popular opinion, i think it's a real disservice to act like dick taught damian to "be a good person" or like basic etiquette - a more realistic interpretation would be that dick taught damian that he didn't have to prove himself to be worth something.

the robin mantle from the time it was taken from dick has always been about proving yourself to bruce, to justify your role as his partner. always unfairly, mind (think how tim is treated vs. steph, for example), but damian is the first robin's robin. dick isn't a wayne, he's a grayson. there's an interesting point of comparison being that dick is the only robin who had a clear trajectory for his life prior to his parents dying - he was a core member of the worlds greatest acrobatic troupe - but he then left that path to become something else. damian is destined for the bat, but becomes robin instead, serving beside someone who achieved greatness by his own skill and kindness. damian has been told about his father, and here he is with someone who knows bruce better than anyone but also understands what robin means, better than anyone. i cannot emphasise how important i think dick being damian's first batman is for their own development. it's so so crucial to combat damian's perspective on family and blood. it's so important that he has that foundational knowledge of what robin means.

by the time bruce returns, damian has made tangible human connections in gotham. he's not the prickly, reactive kid that bruce first met. he's allowed himself to trust that the people around him have his best interests in mind. he knows that he isn't cared for because he's bruce's son - he's cared for because he's worth loving. his siblings aren't competition for affection or honour. he no longer sees bruce as an omnipotent force, and rather as a man he could learn to love. i think seeing bruce through both talia and dick's persepectives really helps with that.

bruce i think is confronted by the fact that for the first time in his life he can't try and hide behind the "im not really xyz's father" excuse. not that his adopted kids aren't his kids, obviously, but i do think he sometimes tries to lean on that as a crutch so he doesn't get attached (way too late for that lol). he loves damian, and there's a lot of fear about damian reflecting his worst habits, his most self-destructive behaviours back at him. maybe there's some fear about damian's history of killing, and how close bruce himself always feels to that edge. maybe there's misery about missing one of his kids growing up, again, like he's always a second too late to the important moments. bruce and damian are so similar, but this is bruce's second chance to be there. he is thomas wayne, emerging from the alley alive. do u think damian looks like his grandparents?

#sorry this mostly ended up being about dick again oops #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman #robin #dc comics #the ask and the answer #also i have spondylitis so my back would literally give out

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bonny-kookoo · 5 months

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SOMEONE OLDER IS CUTE. AS FFFFFFFF

drabbles open?? 🥺 because imagine how cute they look baking together for Christmas like newlyweds couple in their new home at jungkook’s house because jungkook also doesn’t know where things are 🥺🥹😔🫶🏻🫶🏻

Of course its open for drabbles!

---

He can't help but laugh to himself how you try and contain your excitement, all the different colored Christmas lights reflecting in your eyes as you look around, constantly checking in with him to see if he's interested in something.

Your hand is around his biceps, as he pushes the cart around the store, nothing in it yet. "You don't have to hold yourself back." He tells you, as you look after a particularly interesting set of decoration.

"I just.. I don't know what you like?" You worry. "Like.. what if I overwhelm you? Or I want something you don't?"

"Then I'll tell you, and we find a compromise." He says, one of his hands gently running over yours on his arm. "I won't hate you just because your thoughts differ from mine. How about we choose a little tree first." He decides, realizing that giving you full choice might be too much right from the start. You're not used to that, after all.

So with the small fake tree in the cart, you're now putting different lights and decorations in as well, Jungkook's cheeks hurting from the way you so caringly place everything in the cart, telling him with everything where you'd like to place it, and how you invision his home to look like. How warm the fake candle lights will make it feel like, bringing some color into his otherwise rather monochrome interior design.

It's then that he spots her.

"Oh, Jungkook?" Evelyn questions, a few things in her arm as she walks up to him, her attempt at a hug however denied by both his warning gaze, and his hand on yours that's resting on his arm holding it there.

As if to tell you to stay- because he'll keep you safe from her.

"Are you helping your friend with her Christmas party?" She smiles, and you feel oddly intimidated- but Jungkook stands his ground.

"No, we're simply preparing for Christmas at home." He politely tells her. "If you'll excuse us-"

"Jungkookie, we have to talk about our apartment though." She says. "But I'll text you sometime later when you're not.. occupied. By the way!" She excitedly says, heels clicking on the floor as she walks over to you, making you press a but closer into Jungkook's side. "I'd love to make use of your.. services as well, in the near future. I have someone who really needs someone like you." She purrs, before she leaves.

Leaving you stunned, and Jungkook questioning.

It's quiet as you pay for your things, and drive to his house- before you speak up.

"Its not.. it sounded like she was-"

"I'm so sorry." He grits out, angry. "She keeps..!" He sighs, parking in front of his house in the designated spot, turning the engine off to run his hands over his face. "She keeps digging, and digging, and scratching at me like some rabid animal-!" He huffs out, when your hands pull his from his face, gentle.

"Then I'll.. I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do something to make it better." You say. "Maybe it's best to try and cut her out?" You wonder, and he sighs, throwing his head back.

"I'm trying!" He whines. "I'm trying." He sighs defeated, while you hold his hand.

"The.. service she was talking about." You say, catching his attention. "I help clean out.. homes. Like, hoarder situations and such." You tell him. "I do it for free. Mostly for friends, or their friends. I do it because I like helping people do what I personally wished I could've."

"..and that's.?" He asks quietly.

"Getting away from who they've been." You confess. "Getting a chance at a new start."

"The apartment she mentioned.. it's sold. Technically- the new family hasn't signed yet, but there's a lot of people interested." He explains. "Evelyn hated the house. She wanted a skyline apartment, high up, in the middle of the city." He shrugs. "So I bought it for her."

"Jungkook.." you say kindly. "You loved her. It's normal you did what you could to make it work." You say, moving his hand to your cheek, where his palm instantly moves to hold it. "But I think it's.. maybe time to disconnect yourself from her." You tell him, averting your eyes. "To.. make room for something new. Someone new."

"Have to bring out the trash, huh." He chuckles, leaning over the middle to kiss your lips, before you both get out the car to unpack everything- but instead, he pulls you close, snow falling down onto the both of you, breaths visible in the cold of the late evening, as he holds your cheeks in his palms, and leans in.

"I love you." He says.

And you whisper it back, over and over again, between every kiss you give him in return for his confession-

Well aware that no Christmas gift he'd get you could ever compare to this.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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writer-freak · 5 months

Text

Doubts | Astarion x Gn reader

Summary: Sometimes insecurities and doubts take over but you two are always there to assure each other.

Warnings: Gn reader, mentions of mortality from reader,insecurities, fluff, first time writing for Astarion so maybe ooc

Wordcount: 700

A/n: I sat on this for quite some time because I tried to use a different style from normal to just fit in with the Bg3 vibe. Hope it doesn't sound too awkward or something like this. In general just hope that you guys enjoy this

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more

Under the night sky, the camp was bathed in a gentle glow from the flickering Campfire. Astarion was currently lost in his thoughts, the vulnerability he was usually able to hide during the day coming to the surface as the night came.

You lay beside him, blissfully unaware of the internal turmoil that was currently stirring within him. His fingers traced patterns on your arm as he wrestled with insecurities that coiled like shadows in the corners of his mind.

Astarion's voice, typically confident and sharp, took on a softer tone as he spoke "You know, I can't help but wonder sometimes." Your gaze met his, your eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire. "Wonder about what?"

He hesitated, his fingers stilling on your arm. "About us. About you and me." Your brows furrowed in concern "What's on your mind, Astarion?" He sighed, the weight of unspoken fears hanging in the air. "I wonder if I'm enough for you. If I can offer what you truly deserve." You shifted closer, cupping his face in your hands. "Astarion, you are more than enough. You're everything I could ever want."

But he couldn't shake the persistent doubts. "I'm not noble or heroic like the others. I'm not even truly alive. How can I compare to them, to someone like you?"

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering as if to dispel the insecurities. "Astarion, you're unique. What has happened to you doesn't define you. What matters is who you are now, and that's someone I care deeply about."

He tried to absorb your words, finding solace in the sincerity of your words. "I just don't want to hold you back, or be a burden." You smiled, your fingers threading through his silver hair. "You're not a burden. You're a part of my journey, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

As Astarion wrestled with his insecurities, little did he know that similar thoughts swirled in your mind. The fear of not being enough for someone who had experienced so much in life, someone who had faced terrible things that went beyond the grasp of your understanding.

In a moment of vulnerability, you confessed "Astarion, I have my doubts too." His eyes searched yours, a genuine curiosity shining through. "Doubts? About what?" "About whether I'm enough for you" you admitted. "I'm mortal and it just sometimes makes me wonder if I can truly be the companion you need."

Astarion's fingers gently traced the curve of your cheek, his gaze unwavering. "You are more than enough. Your humanity, your compassion… they are the very things that make you irreplaceable to me."

"But what if I can't keep up? What if my mortality becomes a limitation?" you whispered, fear tainting your words. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Mortality doesn't diminish your worth. It enhances it. Every moment with you is precious, and I wouldn't trade it for anything." You both found solace in each other's affirmations, while it would not be enough to completely erase the insecurities it helped you feel understood.

You were wrapped in each other's arms, the embrace a silent reassurance that was louder than any words you could say. You both were enough.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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cheesus-doodles · 7 months

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It's funny lowkey for me whenever you write about the reader being unable to resist the tears and puppy eyes because since I'm the third oldest out of ten (oldest daughter, just number 3 in the line up) I've become immune to puppy eyes and if my own siblings can't work that on me I doubt that the Founders could. So I was wondering how you think said Founders would be like if Darling was immune to the puppy eyes, especially if said Darling is like me and has a bunch of younger siblings >:3c

Immune to puppy eyes+multiple younger siblings anon here, feel free to ignore that though if it isn't a prompt you want to do! No pressure at all!

aksjdnaskjdnas finally getting round to answering some of the older asks ;-; sorry it takes so long y'all - just disappointed in myself today cause I hesitated to buy Izzy's standee and in that moment he sold out ;-;

‎

Masterlist

Upon reflection, the Toman founders really are like younger siblings huh. Maybe not so much Draken, Mitsuya or Pah, but definitely your needy trio of Mikey, Baji and Kazutora who would be as good as clingy younger brothers with separation anxiety. Or maybe more so like puppies, but same difference in the end.

I think it would only take just the first visit to your house and a glance at all your younger siblings clamouring for you to help them with something for the realisation to set in with the Toman boys that no amount of tears or puppy eyes would work on you. No doubt Mikey and Kazutora would still try, but the boys would be quick to turn to other means to wring out what they want from you.

Draken and Mitsuya find out quickly that annoying you into giving in and doing what they want works pretty well - after all, Misty himself has two younger sisters and he knows what buttons they usually push to get him to do things for them. Though they personally don't want to whine and plead (they are still delinquents with some measure of pride after all), they know who will, and young kids are easily bribed for their help. Sets your younger siblings on you with a small bribe of sweets and with their help, would ultimately manage to force you into doing whatever the two Toman boys wanted just to get the hassling and pestering to stop. Sometimes even pretend to step in to help you stop the non-stop disturbance so that you can get your homework done, no doubt putting them in your good books. High fives all around, no doubt Draken and Mitsuya are the more popular pair around your place.

Mikey and Kazutora, on the other hand, have no such dignity left when it comes to you. The two of them would definitely still try their tears and puppy eye combo a few more times just to be sure it doesn't work before they switch tactics. Would do literally anything to get your attention and affection on them, even if it means blackmailing you - stealing your homework and holding it hostage, refusing to leave the bathroom whenever you need it unless you pinky swear to spend time with them afterwards, dragging you out of class and straight up sitting on you and not moving. Tears and puppy eyes were the easier option if they were honest, but whatever works ain't stupid. Your siblings couldn't get to you when you are in school, but they can, and these baby boys absolutely will, threatening to kick up a fuss and disrupt every class if you don't let them lay on your lap and cuddle. Tried to give you some of their favourite snacks as bribery but obviously didn't work cause they were all half-eaten, so back to disruption they went.

And then there's Baji and Pah - the two who have individually consulted outside persons and have come to the same conclusion. Baji would have asked his mum on advice on how to steal your attention (she thinks he's trying to get a girlfriend), while Pah will ask Peh, and the two airheads will end up bribing and buying your time and attention. Baji would take advantage of the community cats that he cares for and invite you along to feed and play with them whenever he could - none of the other Toman boys can get as close to them as he could, and he knows all the good spots too. The community cats let you pet and rub them since you were with Baji, and this baby boy would use the opportunity to get your attention and affection. Pah is the best out of the six at arcade games, so buying your time with games and prizes was no brainer (or at least that was what Peh told him) - you did enjoy winning a ton while with him, and he got to hang out with you with no complains, so its a win-win.

End of the day, it just makes life more difficult for you if you were immune to their crying and whining, so my recommendation would be to play along when its convenient and encourage the behaviour rather than let the boys come up with their own idea of how to get your attention: the more things doesn't work out, the more desperate the boys become. Wouldn't be long before one of the more desperate ones get the idea that if they hurt themselves, you would be sure to pay attention and fuss. Or worse, if they took out the number of people who wanted your attention, then you'll have to give time of day to them - so maybe just give them the pats and forehead kisses they want and they'll be happy to be nothing more than your clingy baby siblings.

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silverskye13 · 1 month

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that update's got me curious

what's tango and wels been up to since the last time guish was on hermitcraft?

Tango crouched on a tangle of redstone lines, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He liked fixing redstone. Redstone was kind. Straightforward. It either worked or it didn't. Forget some dust here, flip too many ticks on a repeater there, and it broke. Set it to order and everything was fine again. The challenge was only in figuring out where he'd gone wrong. Retracing his steps.

Tango rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept yet, and the gritty, sandpaper feeling of fatigue in his eyelids was starting to get annoying. But he needed to set this right. He needed to set something right.

"It's been longer than a month," he said to himself.

Tango blinked uncomprehendingly down at the redstone line. He abruptly decided the problem wasn't here and moved on, walking carefully down the line, trying not to bump into anything unforgiving of random Tango bumps. He glanced down at his watch, where a little window told him who, out of the other hermits, was awake. Most of the list read "inactive," though a few people, like Xisuma and Grian, had emergency calls enabled, which meant they were probably asleep but might not mind being bothered.

"I need a rubber duck," Tango scowled.

Tango shook his head and stopped walking down the line. He scrolled through the list again.

Doc was awake. Doc was always awake when he should be asleep. He could call Doc. It would take him awhile to get here from the Perimeter, but he could take a break from breaking the world to help Tango un-break his redstone. Doc was the kind of person who could talk about a lot of nothing, just like Tanguish could. And Doc would <if Tango asked very firmly> ignore the redstone so Tango could actually fix it, instead of Doc pulling things apart and breaking it six ways before inevitably coming up with a more efficient way to do it.

However, Doc had been the one to help him recover when he'd collapsed. There was a strong chance Doc would zip over and flip that funny little dial by his redstone eye that turned on what he called his "people diagnostics", which meant he was going to poke and prod and really, really lean into the doctor part of Docm77. Or worse, he would turn the dial one tick further and pull up his mental health database, and Tango didn't want to talk about his feelings right now, no matter how much Xisuma said everyone should schedule "wellness time" for it.

<Besides, Xisuma is a robot. He doesn't get feelings.>

Tango sighed out loud at himself.

"Xisuma feels feelings just fine. They're just... Robot feelings. Not Tango feelings." He stood and reassessed that statement. "They're Xisuma feelings."

Tango continued walking.

It was a marvel Tango even had alone time, really. Welsknight had become a second, frustrating shadow. And it wasn't just that he kept popping in to "check in". It was that he pointedly popped in at random times, for random amounts of time. There was no consistency, except that, eventually, like right now, Welsknight had to sleep. Then, and only then, did Welsknight leave. Not that it mattered. Tango hadn't seen Tanguish in his reflection since Wels had done... That.

Tango realized he'd passed the module he had intended to check next. He sighed. He rubbed his eyes again. He backtracked.

The command had really sealed it. Up until then, it was mostly just... Well, it was Wels. He got white-knight-y sometimes. Most of the time it wasn't violent, or if it was, it wasn't turned against anyone important. When Doc had lost some withers on the server, Wels had popped up looking all formal and official -- he and False were a lot alike like that. People asked for help killing monsters and they just. Showed up. Geared and serious. Welsknight had a habit of holding the door for people, and letting the ladies on the server enter buildings first. Whenever people visited Wels was vigilant in making sure they didn't overstep any bounds. But also Welsknight was funny, and quirky, and he had a sense of humor. And also this was Hermitcraft and knights didn't have to slay dragons here. So maybe that's why Tango hadn't expected Welsknight to try to slay Tanguish.

Do you know what that thing is?

Tango stopped. He'd passed the redstone module again. He sighed. He rubbed his eyes. He turned around.

Wels just... Didn't get it. Tanguish made Tango think straight. It was like. It was like. It was like Tango's mind kept running in circles. He could stop, he could set it to order, but it was hard. It took work. It took self control. It took. It took getting a regular amount of sleep for one thing. It took knowing when and where to stop, and being able to focus, and being able to control where his thoughts were going. Tanguish did that for him. It was the ice, Tango thought. His fire ran rampant until ice was in the room. He needed the cold and dark to stop his mind from running. Without it, he just sparked in every direction and inevitably burned himself. Tanguish talked, and Tango's brain stopped being unmanageable, and he got work done twice as fast, and it was great.

Tango stopped. He looked around. It took a few moments of blinking to realize he hadn't passed his module. He kept walking down the redstone line.

"You don't understand what those things do to you," Welsknight had told him, all stern and concerned, like a disappointed dad, which was funny, because Tango was pretty sure he was older. That was the worst part, really. Welsknight had this pitying look on his face, like he was telling a kid Santa Clause wasn't real. "I know you think he's your friend but he's not."

"He is my friend! He's not like you and Helsknight! I don't know how many different ways I have to say that before it sinks in!" Tango had lost all pretense of being reasonable after the third or fourth time Welsknight had insisted he knew better. "We don't try to kill each other every time we see each other! We enjoy each other's company! He's helping me build Decked Out!"

"You don't understand--"

"I understand perfectly Wels!"

Tango stopped walking. He looked around. He rubbed his eyes. There was a brief moment where he couldn't recognize where he was.

"Just after I fix this."

Tango looked around. He forced himself to think about nothing until he found the module. He stared at it. He rubbed his eyes again. They were really starting to hurt. It was the pervasive kind of fatigue migraine that sat right behind his pupils and applied pressure until all he wanted to do was curl up with his face pressed against his hands. Except his hands were always hot and uncomfortable to him. That's why he liked having Tanguish around. He was like soothing a burn.

"It doesn't matter." Welsknight had told him, his voice all controlled and reasonable and stern. "Listen Tango, you haven't dealt with them like I have. That's how they start out. They act like they're helping you, or that they're reasonable, but they don't stay that way. And when they get bad, they get really bad. You've seen what Hels does to me."

"Uhm, actually I haven't. You don't talk about it. We try to get you to talk about it, and you don't talk about it," Tango spat angrily. "All we see are the death messages in chat, and even then, those have been gone for ages? He sure doesn't seem to be bothering you all that much."

That was mean spirited, but it finally got a reaction, the crinkling around Welsknight's eyes as his concerned frown turned into something more emotional and fraught.

"That's because I've worked really hard to get him off my back."

"From what Tanguish says, you're the one bothering him," Tango sniffed. Welsknight opened his mouth to argue, but Tango was already shouting over him, "Look! It doesn't matter because this isn't about you Wels. This is about me, and my helsmet, and how mine is nice. I'm sorry you're all knightly and fraught over this or whatever, but Tanguish has never once hurt me. Not even unintentionally. Sometimes I wonder if they guy even knows how to think for himself."

"Then you're doing something already that he wants you to do," Welsknight insisted.

"Oh get over yourself Wels."

"I'm serious Tango, this is concerning. He shouldn't be this attached to you. They're made to make us worse. He's probably hiding something from you."

Tango lightly kicked a hopper in his module, and watched as the redstone blinked and everything powered. He rubbed his eyes. His head was really starting to hurt. It was hard to focus. He also kind of wanted to cry, which was very, very stupid.

"I'm building a game I want my friends to play," Tango told himself, and he rubbed his eyes harder. He wasn't crying, it was the migraine. He needed sleep. "Because I like my friends and I'm proud of my work, and I want them to enjoy something with me. I'm not doing it because I'm scared of them."

"You know what your problem is?" Tango had yelled at Welsknight. "You're upset because Helsknight forces you to feel stuff, and that makes you uncomfortable."

"That's ridiculous." Like a disappointed dad rolling his eyes at a kid who insisted the Tooth Fairy was real.

"You're always so composed," Tango said scathingly, all sparks, and redstone, and fire, and the desire to break something, because if he was loud enough he could scream the paranoia away. "You're always trying to do things right, and then he shows up and suddenly you get angry, and you say emotional things in chat, and you talk to people about what scares you and--"

"He's a demon, Tango," Welsknight snapped, suddenly much less aloof. "They're all demons. They are fighting over our souls with us."

"They're filling needs." Tango said. "You're just jealous mine knew I needed a friend, and you needed someone to remind you you're not perfect."

That one hadn't felt good. Well, it felt good at the time. But everyone knew, in that unspoken way everyone knew you didn't joke with Doc about losing limbs, and you didn't question False's memories, that Welsknight was hurt by his helsmet. One too many times buying health potions. One too many times seeking quiet company late at night after an ominous death message in chat. One too many times caught scrubbing blood out of armor. One too many self-deprecative comments that seemed to come out of nowhere, evidence of bitter meditation on something told him by a cruel tongue. It had felt good at the time. But Welsknight had looked at him like he'd been stabbed. And like a man viciously trying to ignore a stab wound, he said, in that voice of reason like sunlight: "Say what you want Tango, but I'm not letting you go through this alone. I'm sorry."

And then, because anything else would've led to more unkind words, he'd left.

Tango looked down at the redstone line. He didn't remember walking back down it again, but he was pretty sure the module he'd been checking wasn't broken. He wished it were broken. He could set it to order and go to bed. But it wasn't broken. It was working as intended. He didn't know what to do about it. Something in this line was broken. It wasn't working right. He needed it to work right. He needed sleep. He needed Welsknight to stop being so noble, and confident. Because noble and confident people always sounded right, even if they weren't, and Welsknight couldn't be right.

<He's never hurt you before.>

No helsmet is harmless.

They are demons fighting over our souls.

If he isn't hurting you, it's because you're already doing what he wants.

Tango scrubbed his eyes with his hands.

Tango scowled and buried his face in his hands.

Tango yanked his pickaxe from his inventory and threw it as hard as he could off the side of his redstone line, watching it slam into two other lines on its way down into the bowels of Decked Out. When the last clatter had stopped sounding, his watch beeped. Tango read it with bleary, exhausted eyes. It took a few times to read it correctly.

[You are on Do Not Disturb]

[Incoming Message from Welsknight. Allow notification?]

[Y/N]

Tango felt a nauseous twist in his stomach.

"I want Tanguish," he said to the empty room.

He denied the message. He started walking down the redstone line. He needed to fix something before he went to bed.

#rns ficlets #tangotek #welsknight #this one was interesting to pick at

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