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#feels weird not using a Purple Heart for something
ginkgo-phyta · 2 months
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I'm back again 😅
Hopefully, I'm not the only person with this opinion, but how do you think Spencer would react if his significant other told him that they thought he looked hot with his bulletproof vest on? 👀
omg is this injured spencer request anon?? I NEED TO KNOW im so sorry if it's not tho, whoever you are thank you so much for coming back!! i love you with all my heart you should use a special emoji as like ur own lil signature! :D
okay so i wanted to try blurb(?) format but mmm okay not really cuz just a wall of text was stressing me out but this is def more informal than my other work (look no capital letters!) and because i love you so much i present two scenarios for you :P... i cant fight this feeling anymore guys he rlly is so hot in his vest im becoming my most feral self grrrrr RAH RAH ALRIGHT hope you enjoy, my love!
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OKAY SO SPENCER REACTING TO YOU TELING HIM HE'S HOT IN HIS FBI VEST gn! reader, fluff, second scenario a little steamy in tone but nothing explicit just h*rny vibes, no other warnings
if you weren't a profiler: you'd never thought about it before- spencer in his bulletproof vest. sure, you knew that his job required him to go into sticky situations where the prospect of gunfire was imminent and he would have to wear proper equipment, but you never put two nd two together. you never even thought of a kevlar vest as something that could be hot...until you saw a picture of him wearing it.
"what the hell is that." you blurt out, voice serious with hints of concern.
"huh?" spencer's as clueless as ever, a little worried about your reaction. he was just showing you random photos his team members had taken over the years, all printed out for easy viewing courtesy of the ever-so-accommodating penolope garcia. someone had taken a pic of a beautiful lake where the bau had saved yet another victim, the sun dipping below the horizon line of pine trees, painting the sky purple and pink. "um...the sunset?" spencer was confused, "i guess maybe it was kinda a weird time to take a photo, but no one was hurt and we caught the unsub and the sky really did look-"
you cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand, eyes never leaving the photo in front of you, "no, no...what's that." you point to what you were talking about, a figure standing off to the side.
spencer takes a minute, becoming even more bewildered "...me?" in that moment your world changed.
"oh my god... "you whispered in a daze, firmly pulling the picture out of spencer's fingers and into your own, "what...what are you wearing?"
"honey what's wrong? it's just my bulletproof vest. i know it might look a little funny, but it, y'know, keeps me alive..." he scratches the back of his neck. a couple seconds of silence pass, but to spencer it feels excruciatingly long.
"spencer," you look at up at him deadpan "you look so fucking hot." to say your boyfriend was shocked would be an understatement.
he was absolutely blown away by your response, so much so that the way his face contorted looked borderline disgusted. "wha-what?? huh? what?" he clamored, eyes flitting over your face to find any sign you were joking.
"seriously, baby, you look so good. oh, my God!!" you almost shriek, gripping the picture tighter, the widest, dumbest grin pulling up your cheeks as you giggle like a schoolgirl.
spencer smiles at your reaction, still a little perplexed "you really think so?" the notion begins to sink into his bones, making him giddy.
you very enthusiastically nod your head, "are there any more pictures of you like this?" you rip the rest of the photos out of spencer's hands, scouring through them at light speed. out of nowhere, spencer laughs out loud, his nose scrunching in delight.
"i...don't know what to say. i'm flattered you think that," a wonderful blush shimmers over his cheeks, "but no i don't think there are. sadly." he playfully adds.
you stop all movements, slowly turning towards him, suspiciously calm. "well then," you grab your phone and suddenly stand up "looks like i'll just have to ask penelope for some!"
"wait! wait, no!" spencer calls after you as you start speed-walking away, your shirt barely escaping his fingertips. he yells out your name, his serious tone interrupted by a giggle of his own as he begins chasing you, "get back here!" he knows: garcia can never ever find out about this...
if you were a profiler: you had seen spencer don his FBI branded bulletproof vest hundreds of times over the years. although you had pined over him for years and were now finally in a relationship with him, seeing him like that didn't make you feel any type of way really. sure, you thought he looked strong and handsome, but most of the time you were too caught up in the case or situation at hand to focus on how he looked. until now. something had shifted in him in the last few months, not just with his ever-changing haircut, but within the way he held himself; more confident, more sure of himself, even more cocky, if you will. whatever it was, it drew your eyes to him in his tight little vest like a lightbulb draws in moths- instantly and continuously. it all came to a head when you caught the unsub responsible for drowning and resuscitating his victims until they couldn't be brought back to life. spencer dove into the lake with emily to apprehend the killer while you had helped the kid he had hostage reunite with his mother. you smiled at the scene in front of you, the teenager running into his mother's shaking arms, her holding him close in a tight embrace. another good ending, you thought to yourself before turning back to watch your fellow profilers make the arrest. suddenly, you mouth goes dry. there spencer reid stood; soaking wet, clothes sticking to his skin, chest rising and falling as he panted to catch his breath, his hand pushing his wet hair out of his face. and that stupid, goddamn kevlar vest. oh, fuck. the others walked away from the dock to situate everyone and themselves in respected vehicles that sat back on the road a few hundred feet away from where you currently were. as spencer moved to follow behind emily, hands trying to flick the water off of him, your gaze stopped him in his tracks. he stood there, a bit confused as to why you were walking towards him, seemingly entranced, instead of beelining behind everyone else.
he spoke out your name, but you remained silent, stopping just a couple feet away from him. you took him in one more time: the way his shirt became translucent, granting you with peeks of his skin; his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms; the way his soaked pants choked his thick thighs. you became woozy with desire. spencer watched as your eyes dragged over his figure, drinking in every inch of his dripping body. "oh, baby..." you voice drawled out as soon as your gaze landed on his bulletproof vest, "you're absolutely soaking wet." spencer's eyebrows shot up his forehead at the suggestive twinkle in your timbre. you approached him further, chest just inches away from his. if he wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, he would have been a bit more cautious of lingering teammates. your hands came up to ghost over his vest, "did i ever tell you how good i think you look in this?" you looked up at him through your lashes.
spencer chuckled, "in the bulletproof vest?" you nodded in response, but spencer still couldn't really believe it. "uh, no, actually, you haven't." his eyes glinted at the way you bit your lip, his hands moving on their own accord to rest on your hips. you could feel droplets of water seep into the material and lick your skin, but you didn't give a rat's ass.
"well, you do." you whisper, hands wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to press a kiss to his lips, "really, really good." your mouth moves enticingly with his.
"oh? is that so?" he whispers against your lips, diving back in, his fingers digging in your hips. he graciously kisses you for a moment before it dawns on him that you're both still at work- in an active crime scene, at that. "mmh, mmh!" he vocalizes between kisses as he tries to move his head back a smidge. his eyes peak open just enough to see if anyone else was around. your lips are addicting, rendering him unable to fully tell you to stop, unable to fully pull away himself. he's relieved when he spots no one. still, he know this is far from appropriate. spencer's hands move up your body to wrap around your wrists behind him, pulling them away from him and the same time he pulled away from you, "okay, okay!" he breathes out with a chuckle, "i believe you now" he tries to catch his bearings, but your pouting face causes him to laugh again
"spencerrrr," you groan at the loss of your beloved's kisses and he turns you around and pushes you towards the spot where the others vanished, walking behind you with his hands on your shoulders, your body held at an arm's distance.
"let's go, angel." his words brought out a hmph! from you. "we can do more of that later at home" he whispers, leaning in ever-so-slightly.
you turn your head back to get a glimpse of him, your eyes and smile equally wide with excitement, "can you bring the vest with you?!"
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A/N: OKAYYYY lemme stop myself before things get filthy LOL do yall know which episode im referring to in the second scenario? that end scene will always get me my eye are GLUED to spencer the entire time GODDAMN. okay anyway i hope you liked this anon!!! pls tell me yalls thoughts <3
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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One day, when Steve and Eddie are still in the early stages of dating, both a little overwhelmed but sure of each other and excited to see where it’s going, Steve brings Eddie flowers when he comes to the trailer park for a date night. It’s the first-month anniversary of their first kiss, and he doesn’t say as much, because he’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t care about those dates like he does - and it’s not like a one-month anniversary is some kind of great accomplishment anyway - but he wants to do something special and he decides flowers will make anyone happy, if only for the gesture. He gets a bouquet with bold, dark shades; purple and dark red and some greenery with sharp edges and thorns, to give it a little bit of Eddie: sweet, but still badass.
When Steve gets to the trailer, Eddie opens the door with a wide smile on his face - but it instantly disappears and gets replaced with a kind of shocked surprise when he sees what Steve is holding in his hands.
‘Got you flowers,’ Steve says, stating the obvious and leaning in to kiss Eddie’s lips. But Eddie is still frozen in the doorway - his mouth doesn’t even move when Steve presses his lips against Eddie’s.
Steve pulls back and squints at Eddie, trying to figure out what’s going on with him. ‘You alright there?’ he asks.
‘You got me flowers,’ is the only thing Eddie says; his voice is trembling and his eyes are still wide, fixed on the bouquet in Steve’s hands.
‘Should I... not have?’ Steve asks. His palms are getting sweaty against the stems of the flowers, but it doesn’t look like Eddie is gonna be moving to take them from him anytime soon. Panic starts to crawl its way up in his stomach as he wonders if he’s made some kind of huge mistake.
 ‘I um... I’m sorry. This was stupid, wasn’t it? Is it weird? You know I’m only used to dating girls and they always used to love it when I -’
‘What the hell are we even doing?’ Eddie suddenly interrupts him in a shrill voice with a panicked edge to it.
‘What - what do you mean?’ Steve asks, still unable to make sense of what’s happening.
‘I’m not the kind of person you can bring flowers to! I’m - I live in a goddamn trailer, for fuck’s sake! I’m not like any of those girls you used to date, Steve, and if you -’ He glances around him frantically, then fixes his eyes back on Steve’s face, a scared look in them. ‘We don’t even own a fucking vase, Steve, we never - I never - Jesus, they’re really pretty but I’m not - they’re too beautiful for this fucking trailer, you shouldn’t -’
‘Hey, woah, take it easy, alright?’ Steve finally understands what’s going on, and it’s breaking his heart that Eddie believes he isn’t even worth a bunch of flowers. He gently drops the bouquet on the ground, freeing his hands to be able to place them on Eddie’s shoulders in an attempt to ground him.
‘Take a deep breath for me, okay?’
Eddie obeys, taking a shuddering breath while blinking tears away from his eyes.
‘I know you’re nothing like those girls,’ Steve says, softly. ‘And I don’t care. If anything, it’s why I like you so much more. That’s why I think you deserve flowers, even if you don’t have a vase. Trailers deserve flowers, too, you know.’
Steve can see the tension disappear from Eddie’s body as Eddie lets out a heavy sigh. Then, his boyfriend suddenly launches himself into Steve’s arms, colliding into him with a force that almost has Steve tumbling down the steps leading up to the trailer’s front door.
‘You’re too fucking good to be true, Stevie,’ he murmurs into his ear.
Steve can’t help but chuckle at that, holding Eddie as tight as he can. ‘What, ‘cause I brought you some flowers?’
He can feel in the crook of his neck how Eddie is nodding.
‘How about I get you a vase next time, so I can keep bringing you flowers?’
‘I love you.’
Steve freezes. A second later, Eddie lifts his head to look at him. His eyes are wide and shocked, probably mirroring the look in Steve’s own eyes.
‘Shit, sorry, that just - um - that just slipped out,’ Eddie stammers. ‘That was - that was probably way too early, wasn’t it? I wasn’t - I didn’t mean -’ 
‘I love you, too,’ Steve interrupts him.
And the enormous grin that breaks through on Eddie’s face makes Steve decide instantly that he’s gonna get Eddie some sunflowers on the one-month anniversary of their first “I love you.”
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teddybeartoji · 2 months
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it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.
it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.
so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?
or is it the fingers in his hair?
he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.
you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.
he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.
his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.
as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.
a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.
he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.
even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.
your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.
his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.
he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.
he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.
and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.
you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.
he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?
no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.
it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.
he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.
turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—
a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.
seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.
his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.
his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.
you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.
don't stop.
+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right
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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months
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Good Boy (Virgin!Choso x Fem!Reader)
☆*: .。.Wrote this a while ago but didn't post here. Check my Ao3 to be updated first when I post oneshots!!.。.:*☆
Word count: 1.5k
SFW/NSFW
☆*: .。.Summary .。.:*☆
You teach Choso how to touch himself- and you.
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Something’s wrong.
You had just come back from grocery shopping but you weren’t wearing what you left out in. Your hair is down, tight shorts clinging to your rear but not covering your thighs. You bend over to set down the heavy bags, mumbling under your breath about how he should��ve helped you bring things inside. You’re not actually mad at him, you just love seeing him purse his lips together and pout. You turn around, expecting him to be fidgeting with his hands per usual but instead you find him in tears.
“What’s wrong?” You tease, pointing to the tent in his sweatpants. “Aww, do you need help with that?~”
Choso wasn’t used to his half-curse body, hell, he barely understood his human one. He didn’t think about it often, the two of you were normally too busy on missions to exchange more than quick kisses or glances. You had been dating for a few months, a word still foreign to him. He had always been close-knit, but he never saw himself in a romantic relationship. Nevertheless, he was happy to be with you. Now, during a peaceful period, the two of you were supposed to be having dinner together and watch a few movies. That was the plan, not what was happening now.
“I-It’s not supposed to…” Choso trails off as your fingers brush against the front of his pants, his hand trembling as you place it on your breasts. “Feels…weird.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to touch yourself.” You whisper in his ear while sliding into his lap on the couch, keeping him straddled with your hands. You lick your lips in anticipation
His eyes widen when you pull his pants down, exposing his throbbing length to the cold air.He’s so hard his tip is stiff, the veins in his cock peeking from his shaft. He looks away, face as pink as his dripping tip. His cock is a little over half the size of your forearm, as wide as your wrist. He’s shaking, face flushed, lips parted as your hand wraps around his cock. You leave wet kisses down his neck then move to his lips, sucking a strangled moan out of him as your hand moves down his length. His cock twitches in your hand, dripping precum and his scent. You grin as he groans, stroking faster until white spills from his tip. You keep going, faster, harder, squeezing his thick cock until it shoots his load. He can’t think, mind a melted mess of lust and love as he returns your kisses with equal fervor. Hot, he’s burning, your touch setting his body ablaze. 
“Y/N~!” He’s gasping, squirming as his cock spits up again. “Hnngh~!”
“Two times already…does it feel that good?” You tease, sucking his bottom lip until it’s kiss swollen.
“Good, so good, please~!” Again, again, again, all he can do is coat your hand until it’s sticky and slick from his semen. “Y/N~!”
Choso slumps down the couch as you milk a clear load out of him, panting, crying as pleasure sparks and pops around his body. He’s a mess, purple eyeshadow dripping from his lips as his hair sticks to his face. 
“Feeling better?” You nip his neck, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Good boy.”
Dammit, he’s hard again.
“Y/N, i-it’s back-”
“Fix it yourself this time, do it how I showed you.” You smirk as he looks up at you with hazy eyes, leaning down. “You can do it.”
Choso gulps, hand wrapping around his cock as he stares at you. You’re perfect, so pretty. The way your lips move when you say his name, God- your voice, so smooth. His hand moves as quick as his heart but it’s not as good as yours, not as soft. His brows furrow as his cock pulses in his palm, oozing out nothing but a clear liquid that reminds him of slime. He moans as you bury his face between your breasts, your hands massaging his scalp as his thumb circles his tip. A familiar heat swells in his stomach and he whines as his cock shoots a blank shot down his hand and your stomach.
“Good job.” You coo into his ear, caressing his warm cheeks as he catches his breath. “Now you know how to do it yourself.”
You giggle as he clings to you, not letting you leave the couch. You were going to go get something to wipe his hands but you can’t leave him like this. You kiss his forehead, whispering praises in his ear as he whimpers, cock limp in his hand. He’s never felt this good, never been so at ease. Choso nuzzles your neck, a soft smile on his face as you hum. He doesn’t sleep well but he always manages to get a full night’s rest when he’s with you, his eyelashes fluttering as he drifts off. You can’t even slip away while he’s sleeping, his iron grip holding you close.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s been days and he can’t stop.
Every time he sees you he has to lock himself in a bathroom and jerk off, rubbing himself so hard his wrist hurts. He can’t help it, not when you look at him like that and touch him so gently. Even now, he’s missing a mission to cum into a toilet while thinking of you, pretending your lips are on his and hand around him. 
“Choso?” You’re back. Too soon, he can’t let you see him like this. “Are you home?”
“Nnh- N-no…not home.” He muffles his moan with his free hand, leaning against the wall.
You giggle as you push the bathroom door open, smiling as Choso attempts to slink away. You pin him to the wall and kiss him, pulling his tongue into your mouth. His hips arch into your hand as you stroke his shaft, eyes rolling back. This is what he missed, what he needed. He can’t finish, not by himself. 
He needs you.
“Y/N~” He whines with a quivering voice. He’s biting down on his scarf, crying while cumming. 
“Good boy, good boy~” That’s all it takes for him to crumble and slump against you, “Do you like that? Do you like being a good boy?”
“Ye-anngh~”His words slur together as his body trembles from his orgasm. 
You turn around, bending over the way he likes and spreading your legs. You look back at him, slipping your skirt down and watching his half-lidded eyes widen. You're wet, your juices trickling down your legs. Choso can’t help but stare, hand slowly reaching out to your cunt only to pull away. He shouldn’t do this, not until you tell him you can. His cock aches but he can wait, he’ll always wait for permission. 
“It’s okay, you can touch.” You smile sweetly as he steps closer, hand sliding between your legs to pull his cock between them.
“G-Good~” God your thighs are amazing, plush like pillows. He rocks his hips against yours, hands burying in your thighs and holding them around his member. “Feels good~”
“Put it inside, it’ll feel even better."
Choso groans as he presses in, your walls clenching around him like a suction cup. He doesn’t know how to describe this, how to process this in his foggy mind. Your pussy is a ring around his cock, squeezing and sucking it back in when his hips move back. His tongue traces around your neck, leaving trails of his spit. Your moans echo in his ears as he thrusts faster, his fingers digging into your hips so hard they leave behind marks. Tight, so tight- so warm, so wet. 
“G-Good boy- Choso~!” You cry out as he hits your G-spot, back arching. 
He angles his thrusts, spreading your legs apart further as he frantically thrusts. His lips find yours, savoring them until spit trickles down your chin. Messy, he’s so messy when it comes to you. His cock spills load after load in you until your stomach swells, stuffing you with his fluids until they ooze out. His eyes dart to the bulge in your stomach, worry wandering into his mind. Is he too deep? What if he’s hurting you? You don’t sound hurt…you sound like you’re in heaven. 
“Y/N, I’m going to keep going.” He rasps into your ear, pressing down on your stomach and grunting as he feels his tip twitch. 
He doesn’t stop for hours, pounding into you fast and hard until your pussy is pouring a cocktail of your juices. The bathroom reeks of sweat and sex, the scent only heightening his arousal. He flips you around on the wall, twisting his cock inside you in the process. He doesn’t want to see the back of your head, he wants to see your face as he fucks you, watch your legs spread and squeeze around him and watch the “O” shape your mouth makes. 
“Choso~!”
That’s what he likes to hear. 
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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year
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midnight ideas | eddie munson smut
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warnings: sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), friends to lovers, minimal plot
AN: im so down bad, but its my birthday so happy day to us all
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It was midnight when you knocked on the trailer door, but you knew Wayne wasn't home, and you'd never felt bad about waking Eddie up before. He probably wasn't even sleeping. Lights flicked on and off in the windows before Eddie swung the door open, clad only in sweatpants and leaning on the door, looking a little too hot for a best friends' comfort.
But that didn't matter.
You were here to be a freak.
Here to ask something weird from your best friend, that probably crossed a line or two.
"I need a favour," you asked before any greetings were exchange. You'd biked from your house, which was far enough that you thought you looked a bit like a mess, but from Eddie's perspective you were hot as fuck. Your clothes were all unaligned, and your hair was a mess, like you knew he fantasized about threading his hair through it. "I need you to leave hickeys on my chest."
Eddie looked at you, as if waiting for you to say more. "Okay, well come in. But I'm gunna need a little more context."
"You know that guy I was seeing who just stopped calling and stopped coming by, well he's moved on already, it's been like a minute..."
"A month."
"A minute." You waved Eddie off, sitting on his couch casually like you weren't just asking your best friend to put his mouth all over you. "And I didn't even really like him but then he was like 'sure you do' when I said I have a date tonight." You scoffed and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at the audacity of the man you had lied to.
"Did you have a date tonight?"
"Not the point."
Eddie laughed. "And you need, what? Proof?"
"Something like that."
Out of nowhere you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. You still had a bra on, purple and flattering, but Eddie was stunned into silence. He tried to speak, but all the words got caught in his throat, leaving him to just stare wide eyed at the presentation before him.
"Anyway, I don't want them on my neck because I don't need to broadcast this to everyone but..." you looked at Eddie who was staring at your boobs, not moving a muscle. Both of his hands placed neatly on his lap. "Oh c'mon, don't be a baby."
"I-I'm not, I just..." Eddie's eyes flashed up to your face, meeting you where you were looking at him. "You're beautiful."
You smiled. "Thanks Eds."
When he didn't move again, you swatted his hands off his lap, and you spun around to sit on his lap facing him. Your hands were on his shoulders, holding yourself steady on him. Eddie's voice was lost again, and his hands hovered in the air behind you, unsure of where to touch. Beneath you, Eddie was already rock hard, his wildest fantasies were literally falling right into his lap, but you didn't feel it yet.
"Obviously you don't have to," you said, back arching slightly into him, your bodies kept apart by only your bra. Everywhere skin connected to Eddie made your skin burn. He was warmth. He was comfort and warmth and home, and you were waiting for him to sink his teeth into you.
The threat of losing this closeness to you made him put his hands on your hips, the roughness of his skin was delicious against the softness of yours. Even touching you made his cock twitch in his sweatpants, but he was hidden behind the band.
"Just give me a second to process this baby," he said, he'd never called you that before and it made you clench, but it also made your heart flutter.
The tension of waiting for him made a knot in your abdomen build, and you felt yourself getting wet over the situation you'd put yourself in. You'd never thought about, but looking at Eddie like this, and thinking about him like this, was really making you horny. If he tried, you'd probably let him do more than kiss you.
Eddie's thumbs ran soothingly across your rib cages, looking up at you, his beautiful eyes looking at you like this made things feel different. You weren't thinking about some loser who didn't call you, you were thinking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was taking over your senses. And then he did it. He reached forward and kissed a small section of your collarbone, before gently bringing it into his mouth, sucking a sinful little kiss into this skin.
Eddie hands trailed up your back slowly, shivers replaced his heat on your body. His lips were still attached to you, sucking slowly and sweetly on your collarbone. His hands around you kept you close, preventing you from shying away, but you wanted to be close anyway. You want him to keep kissing you like this. You wanted him to kiss you everywhere.
You moved your hands to his hair, practically coddling him and keeping him close to you, tugging at fistfulls everytime he switched to a new location to kiss. You shimmied in his lap, making him bite you lightly, and grip you tighter in his hands. It may have been a warning, but you ignored it and moved again, this time moaning quietly.
"If you don't stop that you're gunna start something you can't finish," he mumbled, hands moved again, gripping your hips just tight enough to hold you still.
"You know what would really piss that guy off?" you mumbled, and Eddie flinched at the words. He didn't really want to be thinking of the other man on your mind right now. "Was if he thought you and I really did it."
"How so?" Eddie replied, but reattached himself to the soft felsh peaking out of your bra. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity.
"I don't know," you mused, but you did. "Maybe I can wear that short little skirt to school, and maybe you can leave hickeys... I don't know, on my thigh?"
Eddie froze.
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up at you.
Your judgement was so clouded with lust for your best friend, it was pathetic.
"Please," you begged, pouting in a way you knew would make him fold.
But you didn't really need to, Eddie nodded softly and quickly, swallowing his nerves. you got off him, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Eddie kept staring, he discovered your lack of panties without warning, and couldn't look away from the prettiest sight he'd ever scene. You unclipped your bra saying, "Guess we might as well take this off too."
"Come here," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing you back over by curling his two middle fingers towards himself. "On the couch."
You laid down, head on the armrest, suddenly a little shy at the prospect of having Eddie kissing you between the legs.
You mean... on the legs...
Eddie was on his knees, in-between your spread legs, leaning on the back of the couch so he could lean over you a little bit. One of your legs was draped over his, and he ran his hand up it, staring at the beautiful sight until it burned into a memory he won't forget.
"Are you really sure?" he asked, "this is intimate."
"You don't have to," you said, embarassed.
"Oh, I want to." His hand stopped trailing on your hip. "But I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me later."
His voice was laced with hints of vulnerability, you could hear it. You could see the way his head hung a little lower when he said that. You leaned up, placing your lips on his for a very soft, tender kiss.
"Eddie, I always feel the most comfortable when I'm with you."
And he couldn't even process the compliment. He kissed you again, casual, as if this wasn't his first and second kiss with his best friend that he's been crushing on forever.
He scooched his knees back so he could lay down a little, lowering his head to fall between your legs. He put a hand under your knee, lifting your leg ever so gently towards his mouth, looking at you like he expected you to pull away. But you said nothing.
He kissed the soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, above your knee. You watched him, the sight of him so close to your heat was unforgettable.
Eddie sucked a little spot, the purple mark left was small and shallow. He wasn't leaving them to be seen anybody else, and you could tell. But it felt so good and you didn't care, you kinda, didn't want to share. Eddie kissed a little higher, and did the same thing. And then moved... one kiss higher. And right when you were about to ask him to kiss you, really kiss you, he switched sides, repeating them same, slow, tantalizing kisses.
Meanwhile, Eddie was going fucking insane. Your leg was in his fucking mouth. Things would never be platonic again. He had to pretend he couldn't smell how aroused, and wet you were. Had to pretend he wasn't trying to rub his dick on the couch cushions just to get an iota of relief. It was his big performance.
"Eddie..." you said, and when he looked up at your big pleading eyes, the lust coming off you in waves, he knew.
This time, he didn't stop going higher, he trailed kissed all the way up your thigh, bit your hip unexpectedly to make you gasp, and then dove into your pussy, kissing where your pussy met your mound. Eddie was kissing you like this and looking up at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You moaned, the anticipation alone making you writhe.
He licked up and down your folds, letting himself taste and explore every inch. You were so wet.
He snuck his hand under his chin, teasing your hole with one proding digit. It slipped in, your walls wet, and warm, and tight, and the sensation around his finger nearly made him blow his load.
His tongue slid perfectly over your clit and you jerked, moaning sharply and bucking your hips into his face, the pleasure of it sending sparks down your thighs. He repeated the same move, using one hand to spread your lips open and take note of where he was touching. He was memorizing you. Memorizing each and every move that made you moan. He wanted to make you cum so bad. Wanted you to cum for him.
"Feels so good, Eddie."
Groaning at the sound of his name, he slipped in another finger, making you moan again. The slight stretching of learning someone knew was always your least favourite part, but turns out, you just needed Eddie. He made you feel good because he wanted to, he was happy to have his head between your legs, eating you out like he was starving, and with no promise of sex.
But you were pretty sure you were going to fuck him. If he wanted you, he could take you.
He sucked your clit again, and your walls tightened. He curled one of the fingers inside you gently, experimenting, and when you gasped, he continued on that spot, hitting it again and again and again while you got impossibly tight around his fingers, moaning and writhing like a fucking pornstar. He was so in love.
"I want to cum," you moaned, "can I? Please?"
You were asking him to cum. Eddie was dizzy. All the sensations, being squeezed, smelling you, tasting you, the delicious pain of you gripping his hair like you were going to fall... it was all too much. Too sweet. Too hot. Eddie bucked his own hips into the couch, desperate to be touched.
He pulled away just enough to growl, "you better cum on my face," and then dive back into his clitoral assault, kissing and licking it like it was the answer to his prayers.
Which really, it was.
And you came, loudly, moaning loud enough for the whole damn park to know what Eddie just did to you. Through every wave of pleaser, you and Eddie had your eyes locked on each other. This was what you really wanted. You didn't care about some prick, you cared about Eddie. It's always been Eddie.
You kept moaning as Eddie continued to massage and suck you through your orgasm, stopping only when you tried tugging him up to you. He held himself above you, letting you pull his face down to kiss him. All tongue and teeth, more desperate than anything. Eddie could love you after he fucked you. The way you looked at him, blissed out and still squirming your hips, he knew it wasn't over.
He thanked god it wasn't over yet.
"Go to my room," he said, kissing you again, taste of your sweet still on his lips. And evidence of your orgasm remained unwiped, glistening on the skin all around his mouth. You did what he said obediently, almost running to the room with him on your tail.
You started crawling onto the bed, putting your knees on the edge, but before you could climb on, a large hand pushed you into between your shoulder blades, making you land doggy style and exposing your ass and pussy to Eddie. He had taken his pants off, but really couldn't wait one more second. The bed dipped behind you, and you felt him pushing the tip of his cock against your unsuspecting cunt. You gasped, waiting patiently for him to do. The suspense of his dick slowly trailing up your folds without penetrating you was going to drive you crazy.
"Can I do it, baby?" he asked, running the tip up and down your sopping wet folds. He felt how tight you were against two fingers, he was going to be fighting not to finish fast, he knew that. "Please, beautiful, let me do it."
His dick hit the divet of your hole, and he groaned, stopping himself to wait for your answer.
"Eddie," you moaned, the feeling of him pressed against your core wasn't enough. You looked over your shoulder, glassy eyes begging for more relief. He could've blown at the sight of your cock-drunk eyes. And he hadn't even fucked you yet. "Please, fuck me."
Not wasting another second he pushed himself in, fighting playfully against the tightness of your walls. You moaned, shocked at how thick he was, but loving every second. You welcomed him in, pussy so tight and wet and fucking warm that he had to take a few deep breaths before he could fully push himself in.
He pulled entirely out, to slowly push entirely in a few times, taking his time to stretch you before doing anything harder. He said another prayer right then, a prayer that this wasn't the only time. He needed you, and you needed him. And you were already a moaning mess in his arms.
Once you were comfortable, he started really thrusting, keeping the pace steady. He had to close his eyes and take deep breaths again. Just looking at you while he hit it from behind? Too much.
Eddie slapped your ass once. And then finally looked down to see what it looks like. He loved watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you, your cheeks slamming against his abdomen.
"M-Maybe he'll see how-"
"Enough!" Eddie couldn't hear you bring up that fucking idiot one more time. "I'm gunna fuck that guy right out of your mind," Eddie grabbed one of your arms making your chest fall into the bed. He grabbed the other and held them both captive in one of his hands, and used his other hands to slap you on the ass, hard. He did it three more times, your moaning egging him on. But when you started moaning his name, repeating it over and over, he knew he had to get you there. He wouldn't last much longer, not with you intentionally squeezing your walls around him. He spanked you twice more more rough than the rest, followed by a smaller gentler tap. A small, good girl, without words.
Eddie squeezed your reddened ass cheek, as he hammered into you, but released to use his hand to grip a fistful of your hair, pushing you down deeper into the mattress. Your ass was up in the air, while Eddie fucked your pussy relentlessly. He was so deep, hitting parts of you that no one had ever touched. You wanted to praise him. You wanted to thank him for fucking you so good, and tell him how good you felt. You wanted to shower him with praises for fucking you better than anyone ever had, but the only thing that came out was a string of moan and unintelligible syllables of unfinished words.
But you didn't need to say it anyway, Eddie knew.
He could tell by the way your cunt squeezed him greedily, or everytime you caught his eye over your shoulder, glossy and pleasured, how he'd like to see you more often.
It was starting to ache how deeply he pounded you, when he suddenly let go of your hair so he could wrap an arm under you, and get his fingers on your clit. His body was pushed against yours even more, his dick staying deeper and repeatedly hitting a spot that was making you stupid. Eddie saw drool puddling at the corner of your mouth at the mattress, and your pussy dripped down both of your legs. He licked his lips at the sight. You unable to speak, drooling, moaning, and letting him have his fucking way with you.
"You're gunna cum," he said, a fact not a question. "All over this cock, fuck baby, you're so hot," Eddie was trying to keep it together but failing. He'd wanted this forever, and now that he had it, he wasn't going to last. "Are you gunna cum, baby?"
You nodded in his grip, but he held your hair tighter. He wanted to hear you. A strangled, "please," was what you managed.
"Good fucking girl, oh my god," Eddie praised, his fingers on your clit were softer in contrast to the deep pounding. The circles the rubbed over it were sensual, and hot, and going to make you explode. "Cum on my cock babe, do it." Eddie let go of your arms, and immediately they fell beside you, hands grabbing at the sheets pathetically. He grabbed one, and brought your own hand to your own clit. "And when you do," Eddie picked his pace up, gripping your hips in both hands now. "you're fucking mine."
It shouldn't have made you orgasm harder than you ever have in your life, but it did. The concept of Eddie owning your pussy all the time made you come all over him like he wanted, squeezing him so tightly that he couldn't help but bury it as deep as possible and coat your walls, holding your hips unwaveringly tight and pushing himself into you impossibly far to coax himself through his climax.
"Oh my fucking god," he mumbled, eyes closed and cock still buried deep inside you, twitching with sensitivity.
When he pulled out, you both moaned. You flipped over slowly, sitting upright on the bed.
"Eddie," you whispered, suddenly overthinking everything you just did. You couldn't lose Eddie, he was too important.
But he knew you. So he sat beside you, cooing and patting your hair. He kissed you on the cheek.
"Hey, listen," he said, scooping up a hand to hold and looking you in the eyes. His eyes were glassy from cumming so hard in you, but also filled with adoration and love. His gooey eyes could calm you from any state. Eddie encouraged you to stand, walking with you to the bathroom, hands locked tightly together. "I say we take a shower, make a snack, throw a movie on, and fall asleep. Hmm? How's that sound, petal?"
"Petal?"
"Pretty right?" He said, turning the shower on. "I figured I want something pretty, but not overdone. Babe is classic, but overdone."
"To call me?"
"To call my girlfriend," he said, you blushed but said nothing. He smiled. "Look, if you really came over here just to make some douche jealous that's fine, but... if you want me to love you, well, you already have that."
"I love you too, Eddie."
"Sorry it wasn't like, nicer." Eddie smiled at you, content to just be here with you. "For our first time, I mean."
You laughed, "no, it was perfect."
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teeful-corner · 6 months
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ How? .ᐟ. . . (THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE!?) Lloyd Garmadon x Reader | Gender Neutral Reader
ੈ˳light Dragons Rising (s1) spoilers, reference to previous seasons; Ghosts of the past come to haunt Lloyd in the future, while somehow also quelling a long-term ache in his heart. ੈ˳tags / warning: implied relationship, death (slightly detailed), dealing of lost and angsty Lloyd, Jay and Cole are still not back :(, not proof read! 4.9k words.
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"Hey Lloyd!" Arin called from the library, catching Lloyd's attention sharply as he tried to pass by. The call didn't seem urgent, yet Lloyd wasn't going to do anything of particular urgency either, so he decided to peak inside; he was also wondering why (and how) Arin was in the Library. Not that it had been locked, or anything of the sort, yet because the Library somewhere that Lloyd would have thought Sora would be, not Arin. Hmm, maybe scratch that. Arin would probably be in the Library if it meant he could learn anything about the ninja. Good dedication, he had to admit, albeit it a tad weird. "Yeah Arin?" Lloyd called back when Arin didn't turn his attention over to him, still engrossed in whatever he was looking at. When Lloyd entered the room, walking over to Arin to peer at the book from behind, he would soon notice it was an old photo album. Zane, Pixel, and Nya used to keep it up to date with adventures and general family outings. "Who's that? I don't think I ever remember a ninja wearing purple on your team before." Arin asked, pausing for a minute before he added on quite proudly. "And I know more about you guys than anyone should know!"
The photo that Arin was looking at was a group photo, one in front of the Monastery before one of the countless times it got burnt down. Sometimes Lloyd couldn't help but wonder why they didn't rebuild the Monastery out of something that was inflammable; though he guessed Master Wu always enjoyed coming back to a Monastery that hadn't changed. And Lloyd had to admit, it was also a nice change of pace of the constant changing world outside. It felt like a part of the chaotic world was standing still; even if that feeling was usually a brief one. Yet, in the photo, Arin would point at a Ninja who was piggy-backing off of Lloyd back. Well, maybe not piggy-backing. It was more of, at the time of the photo, they had jumped onto Lloyd's back and he was in the process of falling down. Meanwhile, Kai had burst out laughing and Nya was elbowing him, rather harshly, with a snicker. Though her efforts were rather targeted as seeing the rest of the team was already bursting out in bubbly laughter. Lloyd swore he could hear all their laughter echo in his pointed ears, like the day had just happened. But he knew he was wrong. His eyes became saddened as much as he tried to smile; if not to soothe Arin, then to soothe himself. "Ah, well, that's the Master of Crystals." Lloyd began to explain to Arin, who craned his neck back to look up at Lloyd. "...um, shoot. What can I say about them?" Lloyd tried not to laugh at his own short comings, a habit that he was constantly teased for yet he couldn't help. "The Master of Crystals?" Arin mumbled in echo to Lloyd's statement. His eyes filtered back down to the frozen photo, taking in how blurry everyone looked from moving. He couldn't help but crack a smile. "You two seem close!" "We were!... we really were." Lloyd's voice drew off a bit, his eyes glancing to the side as he still tried to wrack his mind on what to say. He knew if he said too much he would start crying, yet he also knew that Arin would want to know as much as possible. Yet how could he sum up them in words? That task, Lloyd thought, was impossible. "I wish you could have met them," Lloyd would find himself mumbling. "They were amazing, well as great as a person can be." Lloyd started as Arin turned to face him again, photobook still supported in his hands. "They were rather talented, some of their paintings are actually hung around the Monastery - well those that didn't burn in the fires. They were. . . wonderful, incredibly funny at all the wrong times. Fearless, in their own way, and yet reckless at the same time. Master Wu always scolded them for jumping head first into situations instead of using their head. "They were rather passionate as well, yet somehow managed to be a total introvert; they would not speak to the press, nor anyone they were uncomfortable with. Always gave one of the Ninja this stare that screamed 'help me'. Social awkwardness, that's the word for it." Lloyd couldn't help but smile as memories began to surface themselves after being dormant for years. Arin kept his eyes on Lloyd as he spoke, only occasionally glancing down at the picture to look of the Ninja that Lloyd spoke of. Arin couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't heard of them before. "They were also kind... maybe too kind." Lloyd paused in his speech, he had been rambling for a while before his words fell short. So much so Arin had noticed that Kai stopped to listen from the doorway; he seemed curious on the conversation, yet soon realized who Lloyd was talking about and grew the same solemn look. "What happened to them?" Arin was compelled to ask when he noticed all the past-tense that Lloyd was using when describing the Purple Ninja; furthermore the solemn look that the two grew when speaking about them. Yet, Arin wasn't sure if those looks were because the Ninja got lost during the merge. . . or if something before the merge happened.
The silence was more deafening than a rock-n-roll concert. Arin's brain was flooded with reasons for the sudden silence, ranging from the simplest answer (they were lost in the Merge) and the most complex scenario his brain could possibly think of. He would gingerly close the photo album and try and place it back into the shelf, "We don't have to talk about it if you guys don't want to!" He was quick to rush out. He didn't want to cause any sort of discomfort, and the silence suggested he had; that or he had just resurfaced some horrible memories that were being shoved away. Arin didn't hear when Kai had came over to the two, jumping when he felt the sudden warm hand on his shoulder, and gingerly glancing back over to Kai. He seemed in a much better shape about the question than Lloyd was. Arin knew Kai was trying to offer some sort of smile to soften the anxiousness that coursed through Arin - yet his smile wasn't very convincing. "They gave their life to try and protect us, kid." Kai explained, ruffling Arin's hair in another attempt to soften the mood. Yet, somehow Arin felt worse in hearing the news, turning to look over at Lloyd with apologetic eyes. Lloyd wasn't facing them.
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Sora was quick to pick up on the more solemn mood that Lloyd seemed to be slumped in, not being as attentive during training or flat out spacing out - which tended to cause multiple accidents. Sora knew she wasn't the only one who caught on either. During her training with Nya, the Water Ninja continued glancing back at Lloyd with frowned eyebrows and eyes swimming in worry. Nevertheless, they both saw how careful Arin was around Lloyd, and Sora half wondered if some sort of stress caused Lloyd to crack and snap; she's heard from a few sources that he could have a temper on him. Yet, Nya pointed out how Kai acted around Lloyd and claimed that something happened that wasn't Lloyd snapping at Arin. Something much bigger. "How can something bigger than Lloyd snapping at Arin make Lloyd so. . ." Sora fished for the right word. Distant didn't feel right. ". . .I don't know! Not-Lloyd and Arin so cautious?" Nya glanced over at Sora, lips pierced in a frown, before her eyes returned over to Lloyd, "I don't know, but something did happen. Not Lloyd snapping happen, yet something. I've only seen Lloyd this despondent since-" And Nya stopped, causing Sora's interest to peak. She waiting for Nya to continue, dutifully noticing the rise of suspicion mixed with realization that swirled in Nya's eyes. When Nya did not continue, though, Sora asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Since some big even that caused Lloyd to lose someone close to him, and he somehow still blames himself over all these years?" It was a rhetorical question, laced with some humorous sarcasm, as Sora went back to her work. She was fixing up her mech, trying to add some enhancements on it so it would run smoother. All the while she was also trying to channel her elemental power without Riyu's help. This allowed Riyu to be able to lay in the sun nearby while intensively watching Sora's work, ready to bounce onto his feet if Sora needed his help. Sora noticed the silence from Nya, yet ignored it at first as she tightened a screw. Yet, after the third, the silence got a tad awkward. Sora glanced back at Nya, who was staring at her with a baffled look; almost as though she had seen a ghost. "What. . .?" Sora glanced behind her, seeing if she had missed something. Yet, she only saw her mech and came to the conclusion that she didn't. "How did you?" Nya's posture straightened as Sora glanced back at her. Now Sora was positively confused, "How did I what?" And Nya would roll her wrists, acting like that had carried the answer to Sora's question. It didn't and Sora was left just puzzled. Yet Nya seemed to get the hint that, maybe, Sora didn't know what she was talking about and happened to just take a rather accurate jab in the dark with her rhetorical question. As for Nya shook her head, clearing the baffled look on her face, before actually waving off Sora's puzzled look this time. "Nothing, nothing. I just thought-" And again, Nya wouldn't finish her sentence as her eyes drifted back to Lloyd. Sora would notice as she rubbed her neck, her eyebrows frowning more so than before, and a frown tugging deeper on her lips.
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"I LEFT YOU GUYS ALONE FOR ONLY A SECOND!" Kai's shouting filled the court yard as Sora, Arin, Wyldfyre, and Riyu stood away from the gigantic hole in Monastery wall. Kai had gone inside only a a few minutes before a merge portal had appeared right above the Monetary; which both frightened and confused the four, seeing as Lloyd had used the dragon cores a few weeks ago! "It wasn't us!" Arin started, instantly trusting his hands up in the same way a cop would ask you to. Kai gawked at the four before rushing down the Monastery steps as Zane peaked door behind him, confused. Sora was quick to add to Arin's plea for innocence, yet she was cut off by Wyldfyre. "This was not our faults!" Wyldfyre crossed her arms, "Someone just fell out of the sky, crashed, and broke the wall! It was not me this time." Sora resorted just to agreeing with the two at this point. Kai groaned, and Sora wondered if it was out of laziness (for not wanting to deal with another broken Monastery wall) or out of 'I'm going to be killed for leaving you all alone!'. Either way he rushed past the four and over to the wall, but to Riyu's concerned growls, to check out the damage. He drew his sword just encase. "Fell out of the sky? But Lloyd should have stopped the rifts from reopening." Zane said as he walked over to Arin's left, staring at the rubble with confusion before he began to analyze the rubble as Kai began to carefully climb onto of it. "That's what I thought!" Arin shouted, thrusting his hands out at the crashed wall, "but then someone just- FELL FROM THE SKY!" Sora would add, "While being spit out of a rift. Though it disappeared after they got spat out." "Again, none of this was Wyldfyre's fault." Wyldfyre stated again, nodding in agreement to her own statement as though to add value to it. Nya didn't seem too amused as she rushed out with Lloyd to the hole in the wall and the proclamations of rifts and people falling out of them. Kai swore he was getting a headache from listening to Arin, Sora, and Wyldfyre explaining the situation again; not from their voices, yet from the sheer annoyance that these rifts were causing trouble again. Especially when they had all thought that they were taken care of. And just as he thought life was getting back to normal, or as normal as life after the Merge could get, life slaps him in the face. Again! Thanks life, you're really helpful. Yet Kai's sour thoughts towards life didn't stop him from checking the rubble and coming to a quick stop after he noticed a familiar gi lying on top of the white stone. His body froze at an instant, the grip on the Monetary wall tightened, both out of fear and unknowing how to process who laid in front of him. "Lloyd-" Kai called into the flurry of voices that tried to figure out what had happened. Gaining no response from Lloyd at first, Kai tried calling him again despite not being able to tear his eyes away from the person. Finally, "LLOYD!" "What?!" Lloyd shouted back to Kai, turning to face the Fire Master both confused and more aggressive than he intended. Though his stance quickly softened as he noticed Kai's face: pale white. A beat. Lloyd gingerly, yet with as much confidence as he could muster, walked over to Kai and where he stood on the rubble. As he approached behind him, Lloyd called out again: "Kai?" Yet the only response he gained was a shaking hand that Kai pointed towards the rubble. Concerned, and with adrenaline now rushing through his blood like crazy (the held silence from the others not helping his nerves at all) Lloyd climbed upon the rubble to come face to face with a haunting face. In an instant, it felt like Lloyd's world was turned upside down as his eyes flickered over every detail of the familiar body that was no longer mangled or torn, no longer gruesomely defiled in the most repulsive way.
Lloyd could still remember how their limbs hung on like strings, or were disconnected entirely. How their blood stained the concrete road blacker than it had been, how the rotting smell filled the streets before the war had ended and they were safe to burry their friend. The details rushed back to Lloyd quicker than he wanted; more graphic than Lloyd remembered it being. The shock, horror, terror, slight disgust all made him recoil away from the stones wall; it forced him to completely turn his back and cup his mouth in fear of puking. His eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk as he tried to get those horrible, god awful memories out of his mind. The smell he remembered that coated the streets hit him, causing him to hunch over. He knew this was all in his head, old trauma resurfacing to bite him in the ass for never fully recovering from that scene. He could hear the voices, panicked and just as disturbed (mostly from the original Ninja) when they realized who laid in the rubble. Lloyd distantly felt a hand on his back, but his mind swirled and circled as he felt like his gut had been punched. "What's going on? What's happening?" Arin panic sounded so far to Lloyd, and Arin seemed further when Lloyd turned to look at his student. Arin grew fearful as he saw the detailed horror on Lloyd. Nya was trying to calm the situation. Zane was examining the body, trying to make sense of what was happening. He first ran a diagnostic and the only words Lloyd picked up were "Alive", "Breathing", "Vital". They weren't mangled and torn and tattered, they breathed and were whole and alive. That was a wild concept to Lloyd, caused his knees to buckle. His hand slid down roughly on the Monastery wall as he crashed to his knees. He was trying to keep the tears from spilling over, hiccupping escaping his throat as he choked back sobs. "Can someone explain to use what's going on?!" Sora shouted as Lloyd balled his hand into a fist against the Monastery. Sora sounded distressed, Lloyd couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame any of the new students for how they felt at the moment, after all this was slowly turning into a shitshow of emotions. Lloyd could feel Nya trying to snap him out of his engrossing thoughts yet the felt all consuming; It's like Lloyd felt everything all at once and yet, somehow, nothing at the same time. He blanked out at the explanation the students were given. He blanked out for a while. He wasn't sure when someone had managed to move him, yet he now sat in the living room of the Monastery with his fists clenching at his pants and this sickening feeling still in his stomach. How can you possibly explain that the fact that someone who had died, gave their life, to protect something greater than them (yet somehow also meaningless after they gave their life) to students who hadn't heard of them before? Lloyd moved his hand to cup his mouth, trying to control his breathing as his eyes zooned out on the floor. His knee bounced now without the weight of his arm. He could hear Nya next to him trying to explain the seemingly impossible to the three students: "A long. . . long, time ago, during one of our last fights with Lord Garmadon, after Harumi had resurrected him, we were almost cornered." Nya explained, "Well, we had been running from their joint forces for a while, taking refugee in abandoned building of Ninjago, yet this time we had no were to truly run. I suggested we split up, confuse Lord Garmadon and Harumi and Lloyd said we needed to all stick together." Nya would pause, allowing Lloyd to notice how she had rambled a little and how Kai had to place a hand on her shoulder. There was a silent nod that was shared from Kai to Nya, something to reassure her. Nya took a deep breath before she continued, "To make a long story short, the Ninja you saw crashing through the wall was the Purple Ninja, Master of Crystals. . . (y/n). "They had, despite much protest, said they would ward off Garmadon and give us a chance to escape; promised that they would meet us back at the base-"
"Garmadon tore her to pieces." The growl in Lloyd's voice didn't go unmissed as he interrupted Nya. His hand pulled down from his mouth, pulling at his skin a little before he rubbed his neck. "Left her to die rotting on the street, limbs hanging on by threads. . ." His statement was followed by silence, stunned if not horrified silence. Lloyd didn't look up at the three students, who sat or stood nearby. He couldn't bare to catch their eyes, to catch the horror that their mind was crafting after the vague description that Lloyd left hanging in the air. The silence was thick, thicker than Lloyd would have wished. "But... but they seemed.. fine?" Arin choked out, trying to get some sort of positivity back into the room; or at least to get some people to start looking on the bright side. Despite the gruesome topic. "We don't know how." Nya answered, shaking her head. "The best explanation would be that she was fixed when their soul moved on to the Departed Realm? But we haven't seen much trace of that realm in the merged... nor have we seen many traces of other realms for souls, like the Cursed Realm." "Yes, and it is rather odd that she would appear now." Zane walked into the room, cleaning his hands with a cleaning cloth. Attention snapped to him in a unsettling way (from his standards) yet he guessed it was just worry for the Ninja he had just been taking care of. "Especially after Lloyd stopped the MergeQuake. We can only hope that means that the Realms are settling into their new place, and returning people to where they're meant to be. Yet, that would not explain how (y/n) managed to resurrect." Zane noticed how Lloyd didn't look in his direction when he spoke, yet he couldn't blame Lloyd, not after all they've been through. Not after all he's been through; Especially since he was the closest to (y/n). "Well, the only thing we can do now is just wait for them to wake up, yeah?" Sora pipped up after a moment and she would receive a nod from Zane. She made sure to think on her next words, as well as her tone, before she crossed her arms, "So then let's go do something! I'm sure your friend wouldn't want to wake up after being dead for so long to see you all depressed!" "OH!" Arin pipped up instantly. "I have just the thing!"
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The smell of some sort of bread was the first thing that came to mind, the second would be the warmth of a weighted cover that was tossed up to my shoulders, and the third would be the softness of the pillow at my head and the mattress under me. The warm and softness coaxed me back to sleep, yet my mind made it feel as though I had been asleep for decades. Decades. A soft murmur escaped my mouth as I rolled onto my side, my brain slowly registering the sounds that echoed from where I laid. The sound of birds nearby, the clattering of pans, the sound of laughter and chatter and talking; Feet on wood floors and sliding doors. The smell of different ingredients mixing with the smell of baking bread or maybe pie. It was like the sweetest dream. I grabbed at my covers and turned again on the mattress below me. It was so tempting to go back to sleep, to let the soft, warm sounds bring me to a dream where I was with everyone again. That was until I had fully registered what was happening. With a quick motion I shoved the blanket off of me, sitting up, and looking around feverously. I stared at the room in front of me, all too familiar and all too haunting. My hands had a mind of their own at they first touched the sheets under me, then my cheeks and face, and slowly my whole body as I began to register something: I was. . . alive? How was this possible? Hadn't I died, oh I don't remember, a few years ago? This shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't-. Thoughts circled around my mind like a storm that could not be tamed, panicked and frightened, terrified and horrific. I tried to remember what I could not, at the time, and my only last thoughts were those of the moments before I had died. The feeling of my bones, ligaments, tendons, muscles all pulling apart are screams ripped out of my throat in a piercing way that still haunting me. The tears that streamed down my cheeks, the pain; oh the unbearable pain, all suffered to make sure that everyone else could hopefully see another day. So Lloyd could see another day. I raised my hand, feeling my damp cheeks. I didn't even realize I had been crying, and I frowned my eyebrows as I couldn't understand whether it was because the memories or the confusion. And I couldn't help but sit on the bed, my bed, as I reeled in all that was happening. I was alive, I was back. Yet was everyone else here? What had happened after I died? Did the resistance work? Is Ninjago City back to how it had been? Is- The thoughts brought me onto my feet and tugged at my gi, taking in a shaky breath as I felt it. My feet guided themselves, my mind in a foggy trance, to the door and out the room, down the hallway of the Monetary while following the sounds of voices and laughter. I was led to the kitchen, were I would stand at the door and look in at the scene: Lloyd, Nya, Zane, Kai, and four people I didn't know; three kids, one frog guy. They all were making Pies, from what I could tell, and they were laughing and smiling and joking. Kai had flicked flour at Nya, who sneezed and glared playfully at Kai. Zane was putting pies into the stove, helping as the kid with pink hair read a book out loud. Lloyd with a kid in orange stood at a counter nearby, seemingly racing to make the pie that the pink-haired kid was shouting. The frog guy stood nearby. I didn't noticed as tears flowed back down my cheeks as I stared at the scene, my mouth slightly agape. Everything seemed so peaceful, so right. I could only guess Jay was in his room changing because there was a massive pile of flour on the floor and on Kai and Lloyd. Cole probably in the bathroom from having eaten too many of the sweets, with all the empty pie tins that laid on the table. Nya was the first to notice me, she was about to throw water at Kai yet paused as her eyes caught a glimpse of me and looked back. I could see the way her eyes widened, realization and relief and overwhelm wash her. All I could give her in response was a small smile, a weak bit of laughter.
There was a brief moment were we just stared at each other, and the next thing I knew Nya had rushed away from her spot and enveloped me in a hug. And I couldn't help but hug her back, feeling tears form in her eyes as I choked on mine. "Oh fuck-" Kai mumbled, and I could only guess he had realized why Nya had not shot him with water and instead rushed towards the door. The room grew quiet, confused then realized, as attention darted over to Nya and I. Lloyd's eyes. Oh, his eyes. Despite the pain that rang through them, they way they scrunched and drew out lines on his face. Despite the way he could only meet my eyes for a few seconds at a time. Despite the way they reddened, looking like he was about to cry. His eyes were still lovely as ever. I tightened my grip on Nya, "What did I miss?" I mumbled softly to the shocked silence. I let out something akin to a airy-chuckle. "Most recently, the ending of MerqeQuakes which occurred when all the realms were merged together into one big realm; before that,-" Zane began to respond yet he stopped himself. He couldn't help but smile, and I swear he was about to cry (if he could). "Actually, that does not matter. What matters now is that you're back... and awake." Nya slowly let go of me, I could feel as she tried to break from my grip and I slowly loosened her. She was smiling, yet she was crying; choking on her own tears. I couldn't help but give Nya one last reassuring squeeze before I slowly moved around her and towards Lloyd. The silence seemed thicker as I reached Lloyd, his hesitance more noticeable as his brows thickened and frowned. A thin frown spread across my lips, I knew what this was about (that much didn't take me being alive for years to know). "Lloyd I-" My voice felt weak as I started, reaching out to Lloyd with my hand yet stopping. I balled it into a fist, seeing Lloyd turn away from me, and slowly dropped my arm back to my side. What words could you say to someone who you betrayed? Nevertheless someone like Lloyd, who's been through so much and the last thing he wanted (I knew) was to see my body on the concrete floor. Blood staining the road. Limps ripped apart by his father. I knew that so much that my last thoughts had been about Lloyd had how he would react when he saw the scene. My mouth twitched as I stood there, next to Lloyd, in silence as my head fell. Sorry was not good enough, it would never be good enough; no apology would be good enough to start trying to make up for the time I had missed. For lying, as I knew that I wouldn't meet them back up. For everything. For leaving him alone and making him bear the world without me for so many years. For not being there for him for whatever he had to go through while I was gone; it had aged him so, I could see the aged pain in his eyes. It would never feel enough. "I'm-" And yet, somehow Lloyd turned to face me. And somehow, he came to embrace me, hugging me tightly as though he were afraid I would die again. And somehow, he managed to be near me after everything I had done. And somehow, I had a feeling, we would slowly get through this. Slowly, I wrapped Lloyd in a hug and gripped onto his gi, just as tightly. I buried my face into his shoulder as he did the same and we just stood there and hugged tightly. And everything felt right, even if it was for a brief moment. Everything felt like it had and how it should here in the Monastery, with Lloyd: It felt like home.
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©this work belongs to teeful-corner.ᐟ please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
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Missed Connection Section of the NRC Gazette (Floyd, Leona, and Ruggie)
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While cleaning the Ramshackle guest room, the prefect occasionally finds items that remind them of their guests. Sometimes that is because those items actually belong to them and need to be returned, other times it's just a happy coincidence. Either way, the item needs to be delivered, might as well invite them over again? Or just chase them down, whatever is most convenient.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Yuu is implied to be short, based off the personal items you can find in the guest room and a line from Floyd's dormwear card, title inspired by a country song that has nothing to do with the subject of the fic. I got a request for the 300 followers event, but since it's closed and I had this kicking around for Floyd anyway I added the other two requested characters. If you liked this you can read my other fics here.
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Grey Scarf
"Floyd." Azul has a boring look on his face, all grimacy and angry and not worth Floyd's attention. Unfortunately he is very close to his face making it a tad impossible to ignore. "Where is your scarf?"  
"Dunno." He says. "I ain't wearing it." 
"I can see that." Snaps Azul. "You need it for your shift, you look sloppy enough as it is.  You scarf is a part of your uniform!  How can you be so careless with it?"
Because it's ugly.  Sure, it matches his dorm uniform kind of but his socks get to be a snazzy purple with a cute octopus pattern, why'd the scarf have to be such a boring grey?  Rules are rules though, and he does need it to work so he drags himself back over to his room and starts looking around. Normally, he would just steal Jade's and wait tables until he figured it out and forced Floyd to take the kitchen off his hands, but Floyd really didn't feel like cooking today. He didn't feel like waiting tables either, but money was money and Azul paid well. Only if he could find his stupid scarf apparently which was nowhere he could see, and he was far from happy about physically looking. Jade opens the door as he's halfway through emptying his bedside drawer on top of his bed, alongside all the laundry he'd had scattered across the floor.
"Looking for your scarf?" Floyd throws a pillow at him which is quickly returned with a pointed look that dares him to escalate things further just obviously enough Floyd doesn't want to do it. Instead he falls face first into the pile of laundry and nick nacks he'd been sorting through, making Jade sigh in disappointment.
"'s not here." Floyd grunts, muffled by an ok smelling t-shirt.
"Have you tried retracing your steps?" Jade is saying it just to be annoying but it is ok advice. Floyd tries, he doesn't usually wear his dorm uniform outside of school stuff, so it would have to be somewhere on campus. He hauls himself up from the pile and shuffles past his brother, the walk out of the mirror and towards the main campus passing by in a blur. There's a vague memory of club practice, but that could have been from any day this week, and it's not like he wears it to classes. Floyd chews on his lip in annoyance, he feels like he remembers where the last place the scarf was, but his bad mood is keeping him from sorting through his memories intellectually. It also keeps him from looking where he's going, smacking him directly into a very tiny, very familiar looking person who pointedly ignores his angry snarl to shove something in his face. Something very familiar, very boring, and very clearly the only reason either of them had left their dorms this evening.
"Seriously," the little shrimp has to stand up on their tip toes to throw the scarf around his shoulders "you have got to stop leaving your things at my dorm!" He thinks they're angry. That would explain the look on their face, but it's making his heart do weird flips between his chest and his stomach that keep him from thinking straight. A smile finds its way to his face, wide and unbidden coupled with outstretched arms that can't catch them fast enough, like he's reaching through honey even though he finds his mark and tugs them thrashing into his embrace.
"Awww," the words that come out of his mouth don't really feel like his "was little shrimpy wooooried about me?" He should say thank you. That's what Mamma Leech would say, and it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just there's a weird weight to the words he can't quite figure out. Something that wants to be said, but not just yet. They deserve a better tone, a better mood.
"No!" Yuu yells, muffled by his squeeze and unaware of how struggling is only going to make his hold tighter. "You just always burst in and whine about being bored-" Floyd nuzzles his cheek against theirs, trying to ignore the pushing against his chest as he sets them down.
"It's ok little shrimpy, you don't have to be so modest. Good shrimpies get rewards, I'll make sure to bring you something after I get off work, make sure to leave the door unlocked for me~" Or maybe don't, he could find his way in anyway he's sure of that but there's something about the fantasy of them wanting to see him (it's not a fantasy, they've invited him over before he knows that they don't fear him as much as they should) after work that's going to get him through the shift. Maybe he'll ditch the scarf again and make them come running after him on purpose this time, he thinks to himself with an uncharacteristically gentle smile.
Grand Wallet
Contrary to what he would say out-loud, Leona does think that the Ramshackle Prefect is quite smart. You do not survive as a magicless student from a different reality without some flexibility and raw intelligence. The consistency with which they could pick up on things and see through concealed intentions demands respect. But, he supposes as he idly thumbs through his bill fold disappointed to find it just as thick as when he left it, they are also... he decides to go with nice. The concerned way they stare at him is nice, Leona likes positive attention. He just wishes it wasn't from the nicest person he knows, is it so wrong to wish he had some reassurance that there was someone willing to be only nice to him? There's an ugly sort of suspicion they might have refused to steal from him out of fear, he's certainly more of a threat to them than he is to Ruggie.
"Well I guess I owe you a reward huh?" They jump, not helping the accusation (unvoiced) that they're only doing this out of fear.
"No?" Yuu says, looking around them probably to make sure that bratty cat monster isn't within earshot. Leona doesn't care about rewarding Grim, this is between him and the prefect, not some gluttonous bastard who is half the reason he was expecting to be stolen from in the first place. "You- Just stop forgetting things at my place!" He smiles slightly at that choice of phrasing just as they cringe at it. It almost makes him sound like a normal guy, if a Prince was leaving things around someone's place that would invite speculation; and Leona knows better than anyone that speculation invites scandal.
"Real shame no one ever does things out of the goodness of their hearts these days." His voice drawls as embarrassment settles over their face. They look almost mouse-like, if they try to speak Leona just knows they'll squeak and they clearly know it too. "You're really twisting my arm here, pretty shameless, prefect." That does it, the deep breath they take does nothing but really accentuate the harsh contrast of the squeaking to their normal voice.
"I did not," Yuu is so mortified they can barely get the words out, if he can't be the only recipient of their kindness he will satisfy himself with batting them around in his paws until they can pull together some nerves and force him to stop "return your wallet just for a reward. It's yours it belongs to you and now it is back where it belongs. Which isn't my guest room on top of a fucking couch seriously Leona-" Mice still have claws, even if the dent they leave is just a little scratch to such a big cat, he finds himself pleased with the annoyance of Yuu finding their voice. "It was like you were practically begging to be robbed. What if one of the Leech twins found that huh? Would you be getting it back?"
"Only after I paid the finders fee." He can ignore the tickle caused by the unsavory image of an eel inviting itself into your personal space. "Which is what I am doin' now, you're demanding it remember?" He tunes his ears to their footsteps as he walks towards the cafeteria, content with how quickly they jump to follow. The typically steady beat of their heart is skipping in tune with the directions of their thoughts. Good, the mouse is smart contrary to what the trapped lion thinks, so let them; they'll realize the hold they have over him soon enough.
Empty Lunch Box
This was really starting to annoy you, but no matter how much you turned the whole thing over in your mind you couldn't figure out why. You had been tempted to try and ask someone about it, but you could already tell what the general reaction to the situation would be.
The "situation" being that simply put, Ruggie liked to hang out in your guest room. That wasn't the issue. You liked having Ruggie over, it's actually really nice. Sometimes he brings small projects from some odd job or another and you'll work on them together while having a chat. He likes to ask you things about your world, it started as just small talk about the sort of jobs you'd had in your world but evolved into much more meaningful talks about your hobbies and the family you missed. You had even had a lengthy conversation about death and the difference between cultural beliefs about where you go after you die. Yes it was very nice and domestic even but then you made the mistake of trying to be nice.
Ruggie liked to bring a lunchbox with him when he visited. Sometimes it had food in it, and while he hadn't shared it with you at first, but then you started talking about your families and he had slightly warmed up to the idea of sharing snacks. You hadn't taken anything from him until he explicitly offered, and when he forgot the now empty lunch box you had pulled some of your personal savings to get him something from the Mystery Shop. It was supposed to be a cute surprise for him to find when you returned the lunch box, and it worked. Granted you had intended for him to find it after he got back to his dorm, but he had sniffed it out as soon as you handed it over. His reaction was cute, he was cute, it was almost like he thought he was dreaming with just how excited he had been to receive some packaged pastries. When he came over later in the week and left the lunchbox again you had done the same thing. Fair is fair, he gets you jobs and shares his food and you give a little food back in return. Lately though something has been different. Ruggie has still been coming to hang out, he still brings work, you still talk, and he still leaves that damn lunch box. But he hasn't been sharing anything, meaningful; personal information or foodwise.
Maybe it was the death conversation. If you had revealed you were an orphan and that you never knew your mom to someone you had a crush on (not that Ruggie like likes you no matter how much you might might want that) you would be pumping the breaks too. But it still kind of hurt, it felt like a rejection of something that you knew hadn't existed in the first place.
"Y'know you don't have to give me stuff." Ruggie had come over today too, with shitty plastic garbage that needed packed into boxes. He's either read your mind or noticed you brought the remainder of the packaged goods out to snack on while you work. You try to asses him from behind your pile of card stock, he's overly focused on his task. Reflective maybe? He is almost pouting.
"I wanted to." You decide to stick with honesty, sure Ruggie might be sneaky but he deserves that much, doesn't he? "You share with me, I share with you. Fair's fair, right?"
"Right." Ruggie says, audibly disappointed to your confusion. You have never seen him so... gloomy over the concept of someone owing him a favor. Especially one paid back in food. "You do that for everybody, yeah?"
"Yeah?" You say, pausing in your work for just a second to try and collect yourself. Up until a few seconds ago you had been under the impression that had been one of your better qualities.
"So like," he isn't looking at you and his ears are saggy, tugging at your heartstrings painfully though just a tiny part of you is starting to hope- "if Leona left no that doesn't make sense. If Jack left his lunch box here and it was empty would you buy him a snack?" You think for a second.
"Did he share his lunch with me?"
"Yes." Ruggie's looking at you again, like he has a bone to pick.
"Maybe." You don't really have to think about the answer, as much as you like returning the favor Jack would probably just be happy to find his lost item and leave it at that. "If we were hanging out and he wanted something from a vending machine I'd spot him."
"But you wouldn't go out of your way to get him something?" Ruggie's stopped working now, he's really staring at you almost like he is trying to sus you out as if he hasn't been friends with you for a while now. As if he doesn't know more of your secrets than anyone else.
"I-" for some reason what you want to say gets stuck on your throat, maybe it's because Ruggie leans across the couch to get a bit closer to your face. Maybe it's because you are suddenly a lot more aware of what your little actions might have meant to him as your previous conversations play over in your mind "no. You're the only person I've really gone out of my way to get food for. Well except for maybe Grim but he doesn't really count..." You both let out sharp breaths, your eyes fall down to your work, hands going back to the task out of habit and desire to distract yourself.
shishishishi
Ruggie is silent and back in his perch across from you once your head snaps up to look at him. His small grin is intoxicating, his tail is swishing in pride like he's just won a great victory in some war you had no idea he was fighting. It is a smug look, too smug for someone who just put you through a few days of mental torture.
Maybe you'll make him some food next time, you'll see who is smug after that.
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weasleytwinwheezes · 1 year
Text
smart man, smarter mouth
tsu'tey x na'vi!reader
in which jake tells tsu’tey about some of the more intimate ways earth people mate
warnings: this is pure filth, minors PLEASE do not interact
a/n: i seem to write smut much quicker than angst so requests open! please nothing weird for the younger kiddos, i dont feel comfy writing that :)
Mated life with Tsu’tey was bliss. He was caring and attentive to you in all ways. Never eating too much food until you had your fill. Letting you lead the way in decorating your home. He had even gone so far as letting you name the new banshee he bonded with after the War. 
The way he treated you in the domestic roles of your relationship definitely carried over into the more intimate side of it. He was what the elder ladies of the clan called- a giver. He was all hands, tongue, and teeth when he had the chance. Tsu’tey enjoyed mating like any other male, but he especially enjoyed it when he knew you were just as hungry for him as he was for you. 
The two of you weren’t shy about sex. It was a normal thing to do, but it seemed like something was missing. You had heard of the things Jake and Neytiri had been doing behind closed doors. Neytiri was not afraid to share the intimate details of her mating with Toruk Makto. She often snipped about how his smart mouth had other uses to her. The things you learned had you more than a little interested in experiencing them yourself. 
You just didn’t know how to broach the subject with Tsu’tey, but thanks to the insufferable Jake Sully you wouldn’t have to. 
—-——————————-
One rainy evening you laid around the small fire in the middle of your home. Your mate at your back, strong arms thrown over you. You had not anticipated him wanting to mate this eve. He had a rough hunt today and the weather didn’t help his somewhat sour mood. 
You didn’t know what exactly caused the puckered look on his face, but he had worn it since he arrived back to high camp. Knowing how he could be, you decided not to press. He would share when he was ready, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. 
Settling into your mates arms, his breath fanning lightly against your neck-you heard him let out a deep sigh. 
“What troubles you my yawne? You do not seem like yourself?” you lightly asked, playing with his large hands. 
You watched as he balled his fist over and over, going tense at your back. Almost as if at war with himself. 
Tsu’tey stayed quiet for several moments, before his deep voice replied, “There was something interesting Jake mentioned today. About how people of Earth would mate.” 
“Oh? Do they not mate as we do?” you questioned, heart pounding as Neytiri's words swam to the forefront of your thoughts. 
He sat still for a what felt like eternity, seeming to be searching for the right words, “He says that they will use their mouths on each other. All over each other and I think I would like to try that with you. If it’s fine with you yawne.” 
Suddenly you were very aware of every place your skin connected, especially his hard groin pressing into your back. The air in your tent felt smothering as Tsu’tey ran his hands along your still form. 
“I-I do not mind. I would like to know. If you’re sure?” you answered through a shaky breath. 
With your now spoken permission, he was like a man possessed. Flipping you underneath him, his lips met yours in a fiery kiss as he pressed his full weight into you. 
“Do you feel that my yawne? Do you feel how excited I am to please you?” he growled into your lips, slightly rocking his hips against yours. 
Before you had the chance to answer he was nipping and sucking at all the skin in his path downwards, leaving dark purple marks that you were sure would be noticeable tomorrow. 
Your body felt like it was on fire from the attention he was giving it. Minutes felt like hours as Tsu’tey took his time reaching the band of your loincloth. You nearly jumped when you felt his sharp fangs graze the soft skin of your navel. Peeking downwards you were rewarded with your mates lustful eyes as he pressed his long nose against your clothed cunt. 
A wave of arousal flooded you as you watched him inhale deeply, before pushed your loincloth out of the way. The cold air against your hot folds was enough to make you whine loudly, wanting any kind of friction you could get. 
The first lick was tentative, him unsure of how you would react. But the loud moan that ripped from you lips, had him digging in like a man starved. 
You didn’t even have a word to describe it, your mind completely blank as he worked his tongue and lips along your sex. Below you could feel the slight move of his body, most likely rocking himself into the soft furs to relieve a bit of tense. Knowing what he was doing and the feeling was otherworldly, you felt like you were floating. 
Until he nipped at the little bud that sat atop her folds, resulting in you fiercely grabbing his braids. The sharp tug you gave his hair, pulling a muffled groan from the man below you. The vibrations directly on your clit quickly overwhelming you. It didn’t take much more for you to reach your high as his large hands came up to knead your heaving breasts. Pushing your top out of the way, he twisted one as he also paid special attention to your clit.
 Your orgasm hitting you like a direhorse as you pulled even harder on his hair. A low moan mixed in with your more high-pitched one and you knew what had happened. Tsu’tey came from what he was doing to you. 
Neytiri was right, his smart mouth really did have other uses.
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jo6hny · 1 month
Text
 She got my heartbeat. Skipping down 16th Avenue - Hazel Callahan
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Pairing: College student! Hazel Callahan x College student! Reader 
Contains: fluff, hazel being woozy from meds, mentions of beating PJ up (i love her this was for the plot), somewhat idiots very in love, kissing!!!  
Summary: Based on this request.
Word Count: 2.3K
A/N: yay i managed to post this week! Onto the next request. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged onto future Hazel oneshots :) ! 
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“What the fuck happened?!” You exclaimed, barging into Hazel’s hospital room. 
Sylvie and the rest of the girls were there by her bedside, earnestly looking after the injured girl. They give you a look of pity and guilt. Everyone knew how protective you could get of your best friend. 
“Pretty girl, hello!” Hazel slurred, jolting upwards into a sitting position. Her heart rate monitor was spiking. She had taken several medications for her injuries and it made her loopy and out of her mind most of the time. 
Sylvie gently pushes her back down and interrupts Hazel. “Hey, she kind of got into a fight.” 
“Kind of?” You interject, your arms flailing in panic. Hazel looked like shit. Her lip was busted and her eye swollen. To add to this, her face had been colored purple and blue from several bruises around her face. The sight of her made your heartache and made you want to coddle the brunette. 
“We’re sorry this happened,” Isabel started, making her way to you. “It’s just that PJ and Josie tricked all of us into the fight club and Hazel had to fight the big guy. It’s a super long story.” 
“I’m gonna fucking kill PJ.” You muttered, feeling your eye twitch and your blood boil. You had never liked her, she had always left a bad taste in your mouth. It baffled you why Hazel always spoke so highly of her. Josie, you could get it. She was nice albeit awkward but she was never mean spirited like PJ was. 
“Noo not good, pretty. Bad.” Hazel interrupted. Even in her disheveled state she was defending PJ. It stung and you felt a sense of dejection. But you pushed it aside as you realize that you needed to step up and take care of her because no one else will. Hazel’s mom was vacationing god knows where and her dad was out of the picture a long time ago. She only had you. 
Making your way to her, the girls parted and offered you a seat beside her hospital bed. You had noticed that her heart rate monitor was incredibly high but figured that it was the leftover adrenaline from what ensued. 
“Hey Haze,” You whisper, voice cracking. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?” 
“Pretty girl going to take care ‘me?” She asked, she was slurring her words and it came out kind of whiny. 
A shy smile spread across your face. She had never called you pretty girl before. Sure, she was never shy of compliments but never outright like this. It made you wonder if there were truth to her words. 
You nodded, taking her hand. “Of course, Haze.” 
“Dude your heart rate keeps going up, I’m gonna call a nurse.” Sylvie observed, taking Isabel with her to get someone. She was genuinely concerned for Hazel, her heart rate kept going up especially when you came around which she found weird. 
“‘M face hurts.” Hazel said. Her breathing was shallow and she could barely open one eye. 
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Haze.” You replied, rubbing her hand with your thumb. This was something you often did whenever you were nervous or apologetic. In return, Hazel would squeeze yours back three times as if to say it’s okay. At least that’s what you thought. 
The girls came back to the room with the nurse they found to assist Hazel. She was tall and looked kind. Almost reminiscent of Hazel’s mom without the flashy jewelry and short hair. 
“You say her heart rate was spiking?” The nurse asked, closely looking at her heart rate monitor. 
Sylvie nodded and pointed to you. “Yeah it started going up when she arrived.” 
The nurse looked at you with curiosity in her eyes and then she spotted your interlocked hands. The tips of her mouth perked up and her gaze glinted with mischief. 
“Huh,” She started, looking at you with a teasing gaze. “Must be leftover adrenaline from the fight.” 
“That’s what I thought so too.” You replied, feeling confident in your answer. It didn’t cross your mind to think that she might be hinting at something else. Why would she? She was a stranger and friends held hands all the time. Though, your heart rate definitely didn’t feel fast whenever you're holding other people’s hands, only with Hazel. 
“Sure.” The nurse said, turning her back from you. Her tone was sarcastic and it baffled you. But you brushed it aside, choosing to put your attention to Hazel instead. 
After some more checking, the nurse ruled out anything dangerous but told Hazel to be careful. And as her primary caretaker, you took it upon yourself to talk to the Nurse too. Just to find out what to do and when you could take your bestfriend home. The lady was nice enough to supply all the correct answers but not without sly remarks about “taking good care of your girlfriend”. Whatever that meant. Finally, she told you that Hazel would be able to go home tomorrow which gave you relief. It was gonna be hard work but you weren’t complaining as it was Hazel you were pouring your care onto. 
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Back at your dorm, Hazel occupies her side of the room and is slumped against her bed. Despite her wounds healing, she hadn’t been quite active; not like herself at all. You’d blamed the meds that the doctor prescribed, as well as the bruise the altercation might have left on her ego. 
“You look really pretty today.” Hazel said, complimenting you. This was her 10th compliment of the day and she didn’t show any signs of stopping. Again, something you blamed the meds on. She was all loopy and hallucinating. You didn’t look pretty at all today, body adorned with just a regular hoodie and sweatpants. 
“Mhm, sure Haze. Thank you.” You reply, sitting on her bed and taking out the supplies needed to tend to her wounds. 
Facing her, you inch closer towards your best friend and take a good look before reaching for her bruise medication. Her face still looked splotchy because of the bruises, but certainly better. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you a lot, pretty.” she mumbled, her one non swollen eye looking at you with affection. Hazel might have been on medication but she meant every compliment that came out of her mouth. In a way she was glad for it because it enables her to voice out her thoughts about you. 
“It’s okay. I would take care of you any day.” You reassure her, giving her a smile. It still breaks your heart whenever you recall what happened to her. She deserved so much better, especially after you learned about the argument her and PJ had prior to the fight. You wanted to beat the shit out of PJ so bad but restrained yourself because you knew that Hazel wouldn’t forgive you. But still, you can’t help but glare and stick your middle finger up at her whenever you pass each other by at the halls. 
“I’m gonna beat PJ up as payback for what happened to you, I swear to god.” You added, your voice was shaky. 
“Don’t.” Hazel replied, taking your hand in hers. She did it again, squeezed your hand thrice. It made your heart flutter. But at the same time, it saddened you how much she defended PJ. 
“Don’t defend her, Haze. She’s the reason you got hurt.” You reply defensively, intertwining your hand with hers. If you had a heart rate monitor at home, Hazel’s would have skyrocketed right now. She was praying that her pulse didn’t give anything away but you seemed to be distracted by the hate you had for her friend. 
“I’m not,” She started, staring her one eye at you. “It’s just that you’re too good for that, beautiful.” 
“Stop that.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact. You decide to distract yourself by opening up the treatment for her bruises and applying it onto her. 
“Stop what?” 
“You know, complimenting me. You’re too loopy from the meds.”
Hazel shakes her head, interrupting you from treating her wound. “That’s not true.” 
“Yes it is. I mean, you have been doing the same since the hospital.” You retort, trying to evade Hazel’s attempt at knocking at your heart. It wasn’t working, of course. Her admittance of her affection for you made you feel loopy. 
“It might have started at the hospital but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. I do think you’re beautiful and kind and gorgeous and the best person in the world.” She rambled on, listing positive things about you. 
The brunette’s confession shocked you, leading you to push down a bit harder on her bruise as you applied her medication. 
“Ow!” Hazel exclaimed, it felt like her bruise would resurface with the pressure you put on her face. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You reply, frantically caressing her face as to apologize for accidentally hurting her. 
“It’s okay.” Hazel mumbled, bringing a hand up to her cheek. “Kinda hurts though.” 
“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 
Hazel’s eyebrows perk up at your offer. The cogs in her mind were working overtime and she was going to take a leap at what she was going to do but it would all be worth it. 
“I know how you can make it up to me.” She led on, a small smirk displayed on her face. She couldn’t quite smile as there were cuts on her lips that disabled her from doing so. 
“How?” You cocked your head to the side, curious to what her demands were. You felt really bad. To be fair, Hazel surprised you and she couldn’t just do that so suddenly, not when your hands were on her face. She knew how reactive you could get. 
“A kiss.” She beamed, proud of herself. 
You stare at her, bewildered. 
“We need to get you off those meds.” You mumble, putting away her ointment. This was you trying to hide your face that was sporting a blush. You could feel the warmth spread past your countenance and through your body. 
“I’m serious!” Hazel flailed, sitting upright. She had never been more serious in her entire life. She could come off as goofy most of the time but never with you. She had always tried her best whenever she was with you. You deserve the best things in life and she knew this. 
“Alright okay.” You caved, positioning yourself closer to her so that it was easier for your lips to attach themselves to her wounds. 
“Really?” The blue eyed girl questioned. She didn’t think she’d get this far. 
You hummed in response and made your way forwards, pressing a chaste kiss on the apple of her cheek right where the bruise was starting to shift colors. And then you planted another towards her swollen eye, careful not to put any pressure. Then, your lips found its ways towards hers. You hover over her lips, not quite sure if you should continue. 
“Please kiss me.” Hazel whispered, feeling a bit pathetic at her plea. But then again, this was all she ever wanted. To be near you and feel you. And if she were honest, she’d get beat up a thousand times again if it meant being under your tender care. 
At this, you press your lips onto hers. You were careful not to press too hard as you minded the cuts she obtained from the fight. But still, you kissed her with much love and yearning. With all of the pent up feelings you had for your best friend. She tasted like skittles. The only thing she’d enthusiastically eat during these past few days that she’d rested. 
“Do you feel better now?” You ask, parting your lips from hers. The beating of your heart was loud and you could physically feel your heart thump against your chest. 
“Well,” She said, as if in deep thought. “I think you need to kiss me more, to be honest. I don’t feel too well.” 
You laugh at her attempt to convince you to kiss her again. It worked, though. Obviously. But it was just so…Hazel. So authentically her. 
“Oh no!” You feigned worry, playing along. “We wouldn’t want that.” 
“No. Not at all.” Hazel shook her head. She took her spare hand and wrapped it around your waist. 
Leaning in once again, you take a moment to examine her features. The contrast of her sharp features against the violent splotches of purple and green and beige. She looked beautiful. Right then and there you swore that you’d protect her. Never let anything like this happen again. Protect her against the stupid football guy, PJ, anyone. 
“What are you thinking of?” Hazel asked, breaking you out of your trance. 
“How good you look. And how I’m totally gonna kick that football guy and PJ’s ass.” You reply, earning a groan from your best friend. 
“More kissing, less kicking ass, please.” She pleaded. 
“Alright okay.” You laughed, connecting your lips to hers again. You weren’t sure where this left the both of you. If it meant that you two were together now. You made a mental note to bring this up to her once you two finish making out. 
Hazel on the other hand, was elated. She had to personally thank her nurse and doctor for prescribing her meds that made her more loopy as hell but confident. She couldn’t believe it! She was kissing her best friend and long time crush all because of some stupid meds that got rid of her shyness. Hazel was going to enjoy this, she thought. And she also thought about how she was going to scream everything out into the world. How she finally got her girl and how lucky she felt. 
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tags: @academiareid <3
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fushigur0ll · 9 months
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Ok now here me out… you know how that old people filter is going around on TikTok? I think it would be so cute if 42!Miles and you do it and he gets kinda emotional at the thought of growing old with the reader, and also he kinda looks like his dad so it’s a harder blow.
Idk I think it would be cute and kinda sappy cause I love seeing those couples on TikTok try it and be like “that’s how we’ll look when we’re grandparents.” AHHH😭♥️
i’m gonna make this as sentimental as possible</3 thanks for the request boobie snoobie
NOW? LIKE NOW NOW?
꒰ ♡ ꒱ you try out that filter you see everyone doing on tiktok and you show miles and his reaction shocks you
includes ; fluff, kisses, tears and sadness but it’s happy tears and sadness oh and use of the n word! not proof read, finished this long one half asleep, n may be a a tiny bit ooc but..IDGAF this is cute💔
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"Why do you always leave a nigga hanging outside your window for so long, baby?" Your boyfriend frowned as his gaze fixated on you, while you kept your eyes glued to your phone, even as you opened the window for him.
"I'm sorry, I was using the bathroom," you replied, finally looking up at him with a smile that made him smile back at you. you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your heart as he leaned down to give you two soft kisses on your lips before fully entering your room
Your room was chilly and cozy, with a gentle breeze flowing in from the now-open window, giving your boyfriend goosebumps that raised the hairs on his forearms. As he looked around, he noticed the soft glow of the low orange and purple LED lights, illuminating the room like a beautiful sunset over Brooklyn. He closed the window behind him, but the cool air remained, just the way you liked it.
"Why are you so glued to your phone?" he asked as he took off his shoes and jacket by your desk. You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through videos on your phone, not looking up from the screen.
"I saw this trend on TikTok, and now I can't stop watching it," you replied, still engrossed in your phone. He hummed and headed to the washroom to freshen up and change into his own clothes that he kept at your place.
After a few minutes, he emerged from the washroom, wearing a black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a silver necklace adorning his neck. He saw you in a different position, lying down on the bed with your phone a few inches away, as if you were recording a video.
He walked towards you and sat by your side, watching your face closely. He stared at you without saying anything, and you could sense his intense gaze on you, making you glance up at him with a curious expression.
"What's wrong?" you asked, and he just shook his head and leaned down to kiss you once again.
"nun...you're just beautiful," he whispered, laying his forehead on yours, and you smiled, cupping his left cheek softly.
"And you're even more beautifuler pookie butt," you teased, biting his nose playfully when his face drops. "So weird," you chuckled and shoved your phone to his face, making him widen his eyes for a moment before focusing on the screen.
"What is this, baby?"
"its a filter. this is the trend i found. You just press it, and it shows you how you would look when you're older," you explained, sitting up and making him do the same. You pressed the filter and applied it to your faces. The top half of the screen showed your current selves, while the bottom half showed an older version of you both, which made his breathing stop.
As miles stared at the screen, a wave of emotions washed over him. The longer he gazed at the older version of himself, the more it began to resemble his father. He blinked and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. He continued to blink, feeling the burn of his eyes that he didn't want to experience at the moment. He took a deep breath in, trying to steady himself.
As he looked at your old face, his feelings washed over him like a wave once again. He found you so beautiful, even with a few aging lines and wrinkles on your skin. He stared a bit longer as his train of thoughts went throughout his brain.
Miles didn't just love you, he was in love with you. He always had been. Ever since you both were in the same class together two years ago, and last year you both got together, making it almost two years. He never understood how someone could love him this much. No matter how hard or how high of a wall he built around himself, you managed to climb it or even break it down. He wasn't complaining, but if he knew loving you would be like this, he wouldn't have put up the wall in the first place.
He still remembered the days when you would try to strike up a conversation with him, and he would always be so cold, just to get the point across that he needed to be left alone. But it didn't come through your big ass head. He chuckled to himself, remembering how much he loved— and still loves making fun of your forehead being so big.
He always remembered the times he would find himself staring at you in class when you would sit beside him during the quiet period, just writing notes and doodling cute hearts and faces on his paper. He pretended to be annoyed about it, but secretly loved it. And he wouldn't tell you, but he still had those doodles you used to do in his desk.
Another thing he remembered was when you agreed to being his girlfriend and you both found yourselves at a park, on the playground. You lay in his chest as you both lay on the slide, cuddling close to each other while just looking up at the pretty stars that twinkled and glistened in the night sky. He remembered a story you read with him a few days prior about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe. He referred to himself as the sun and you to the moon. He would sacrifice himself as long as you got to live a better life. Someone who came into his life just to break down his walls and love and cherish him this much shouldn't have him thinking about the day he wants to marry you, but he finds himself doing just that anyways.
He wonders how you will react when, after you both are done with school, getting a bit older and thinking about moving out of your parents' houses, you consider moving in together. Maybe even getting a pet. He knows you love kittens, and he's seen how you cry happy tears of awe when you see a baby kitty cat. He would make fun of you, and then you would start crying more and more. To cheer you up, he would just start kissing and tickling you, which always 100% of the time works.
Oh, how he loves you so much it brings tears to his eyes. Literally.
You had already put down the camera long ago when you saw Miles lost in thought. But you immediately become concerned and worried when a tear falls down his cheek, even though his face remains blank. You frown and cup his cheeks to direct his face towards yours. You kiss his nose, cheeks, and finally his lips ever so softly, hoping to bring him back to the present moment.
You whisper Miles' name, your voice soft and gentle, not wanting to startle him too harshly out of his train of thought. He blinks once, and another tear rolls down his cheek, and you move your thumb to gently rub it away, your heart aching at the sight of his tears.
"You're crying," you say softly, and Miles inhales softly, exhaling and leaning into your hands with his eyes closing.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, his lips pressing against the palm of your hand. He opens his eyes once more, staring into your beautiful eyes.
"There's no need to apologize, baby. I'm just worried," you respond, your voice equally soft as before. Your words make more tears well up in his eyes, but he holds them in.
As he hums softly, the sound vibrates through his chest and sends a shiver down your spine. he squeezes your thigh once then makes his way up the bed to rest his back against your headboard. As you crawl up the bed towards him, you take in the sight of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. you lay back into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
he wraps his arms around your waist, you feel his strong hands on your skin, kneading and rubbing your soft flesh of your thigh once more. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he leans down to rest his head against you, and he can't help but smile as he recognizes the familiar scent of vanilla and cocoa butter.
As he kisses your bare shoulder, you feel the softness of his lips against your skin, you tilt your head to the side, giving him more access to nuzzle his head into your neck and exhaling softly.
he starts to speak, his voice is a deep rumble in your ear, and vibrations of his chest against your back.
"I was just thinking about something... I never saw so much of my dad in me until now, and that's just very... very scary. I don't like to have him on my mind so much because then I'll just fall into this depressive state, but... I just really, really miss him," Miles trails off
You smile sadly, your heart breaking at the sound of Miles' pain. You tilt your head back to press your lips against his chin, your hand coming up to hold the side of his face so you can bring his face down for your lips to touch his own, conveying all the love and comfort you can offer.
you always loved kissing miles. both of your love languages was just physical affection, him more then you from what he says because
‘you can’t love me more then i love you’
"It's okay to think about your dad once in a while, Miles. That's what keeps his memory alive, right? He's always with you, around this house, outside, and in your heart, baby. Don't ever forget that," you say, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart beats strong and steady. As you speak, the room is filled with a sense of calm with Miles listens intently, his eyes watching you as he takes in every word, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
When you finish speaking, Miles frowns, feeling more tears start to line up in his eyes. He groans and covers his eyes with his arm, feeling overwhelmed by his emotions. You can't help but giggle softly at his reaction, finding it endearing.
Turning around, you straddle him just sitting on-top of his thighs. your fingers tracing small circles on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your touch.
"Look at me," you say, poking his chest playfully. He swats your hand away, giving you a playful glare as he peeks out from under his arm. He sighs and puts it down, his callused hands landing on your thighs.
You feel a the warmth of his hands "Why did you cover your face?" you ask, pinching his cheeks playfully. He gives you a warning glare, but the smile on his face betrays his true feelings. He shakes his head at your antics and starts rubbing your skin slowly up and down.
"...I wanna get married," Miles says suddenly
You freeze, staring at him like he's lost his head. The room falls silent, the only sound that’s there is your breathing and the beating of your hearts. You get curious and comfortable, leaning closer to hear his explanation.
‘now?..like..now now?’ you couldn’t help but think. ‘im not even looking good or ready.. but where’s the ring—‘ your thoughts was cut off by miles snickering underneath you.
“not right now ma, i meant later on in the future” he explains and you nod, understanding way.
"Miles, what are you talking about?" you ask softly, your eyes locking with his. he twists his lips to the side before speaking once more
"I want to marry you," he whispers, You gaze up at him, taking in the way his eyes only look at you.
"You do?" you ask softly, your heart pounding in your chest. All he does is nod his head in response, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You feel a rush of happiness wash over you.
"I want to grow old with you," he continues, his voice steady and sincere. "As corny as that shit sounds, it's true." You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for him.
"Me seeing us old gave me some sad thoughts," he admits, his expression softening. "But it gave me some hopeful ones too." You listen intently as he speaks, hanging on his every word. You love when he opens up to you like this, sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.
from the time you knew miles, he used to have a hard time expressing himself. He would often be closed off, keeping his emotions bottled up inside. But over time, he's grown more comfortable with sharing his feelings, especially with you. It makes you feel special, knowing that he trusts you enough to be vulnerable with you.
“those hopeful thoughts, most of them, was how i wanted to make you my wife…even though you already are” he winks and squeezes your thigh playfully making you huff and show a small smile. “but for real though, you show me so much love that i never thought you’d do in the first place for me. you’re my first girlfriend and i want you to be my last.” he confesses “i wanna see your old ass make some peach cobbler in the kitchen one day when we have kids and our kids have they kids and you be in there talking about some ‘you ain’t ate all day baby?’ “ you burst into laughter at his attempt to try and sound like a old momma with a raspy voice.
he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist. “but before that, i wanna see you walk down that isle with the dress of your dreams and a pretty smile on that pretty face to get your ring i’ll put on you that’ll make you mine till i’m no longer on this earth”
you couldn’t help but feel yourself about to cry, it was your turn now to groan and shove your face into his chest making him laugh at you.
“wanna be me so bad” he mumbles, kissing your temple and hugging you. you sniffle against his shirt, holding onto him tightly. you were so inlove with this man it makes you so soft
As you look at him now, you can't help but feel grateful for him and the deep connection you share with eachother. it’s something you always wanted to have with someone special and it just so that miles is that one special person
the room was quiet and calm. miles looks down at you you starts drawing circles on his chest, even writing his name and your name inside a big imaginary heart. he chuckles and his chest vibrates making you look up at him just to catch his attention directly on you.
“hi” you whisper and he smiles leaning in closer to your face
“hey” you stuff your face into his chest and hug his tighter.
“..yes” you suddenly speak. miles not knowing what you’re saying yes for, starts to rub your shoulder whilst looking at you in confusion
“hm? whatchu saying yes for?” he asks and you look up at him once more.
“i wanna marry you too” i whisper with a sincere look on your face. he stares before he leans in and kisses you passionately, holding the side of your jaw to make the kiss deeper.
you smile against his lips and enjoy the softness of it on yours. you both savoured the kiss, almost losing air from not wanting to let go. you both unlock lips slowly and you just stare into each-others eyes not wanting this moment to end
“cant believe because of you and that damn filter i’m over here cryin” he grumbles and you just laugh, rubbing the back of his neck
“my softy bootie butt” i tease and he pinches your side
“i take everything i said right back—”
“TOO LATEEE~”
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katentines · 3 months
Text
my random donatello headcanons. . !
he's awkward in nature, but that doesn't stop donatello from calling you fascinating. the touch of your fingertips tracing the creases of his hands as he rambles on about your differences and familiarities. embarrassed, donatello stops his mumblings if he realizes what he's saying.
when donatello has feelings for someone, he might just be...softer, partially because he's confused about what he's feeling. he doesn't really want to feel it either. he might isolate himself more so it goes away. it however, doesn't.
two words. parallel play. sitting together in the same room doing your own tasks. donatello at his desk as you do your own enjoyments beside him. some days it's a comfortable silence, other times you'll ramble, he likes to hear idle chatter. he might not know what you're talking about, but he loves the noise.
donatello likes the way your heart beats against your chest. it’s never the same every time he lays his head on your chest, but there’s the same sense of relief he gets from it.
donatello gets easily irritated/overstimulated by strong, bad smells. even with the ones he doesn’t actively dislike, he’s very picky with the scents he does like. however, one particular night while you were looking over his shoulder, he caught a grasp of your scent. whether you prefer the flowery kisses of roses and fresh cut daisies, or the earthy tone of left over raindrops on blades of grass. he found that it was a... pleasant surprise.
future!donatello smells like cigarettes and metal rust—but in the smoke and sterile way. he'd try to cover it with eucalyptus. when he stresses out, he turns to cigarettes. he tends to wallow in his own sleepless pity.
yandere!donatello who's mind had gone blank. his heart pounding within the bony confines of his chest, unable to move as your laugh replayed in his head multiple times. and what a scary feeling, terrifying to experience something so.. conflicting. his heart aches, but it feels good. he wants—no needs to know why?
yandere!donatello likes to experiment on you. mentally, physically. you're so fascinating. your biology is different. desires are different. needs are different. there are many ways to make someone delirious, and he intends to explore each and every one.
donatello listens to weird al yankovic because i said so.
donatello likes someone who will understand his boundaries. he likes someone who listens. he likes it when someone seems interested in him or what he's talking about. donatello likes someone who will be quiet with him.
i can definitely see donatello as a gray ace. (i mean he's purple he's literally asexual core/hj) i do project a bit of myself onto him in having anxieties about other people and myself that's stopping me from getting in relationships. "i'm busy. i have other things to do. i don't need to worry about it." and while true, that doesn't mean it's not nice. it's him using his hobbies and work as an excuse to not be with people even though, deep down, i think he wants it.
donatello says he prefers his coffee black, but he enjoys it with creamer. french vanilla baby! something to keep in mind for the early mornings, the quiet yet comfortable silence of the fresh day as you press the palm of your hand on his shoulder or between his shoulder blades for a second as you set down a coffee you made for him. it's a small gesture, but it's domestic. it's sweet, he appreciates it.
donatello really loves the little things because it feels mundane and human to him.
donatello prefers black teas. april introduced him to a strong one with cane sugar and mint once. but he also likes pure green tea, lemon with ginger, and a special rose-strawberry tea on the occasion. but it has to be a subtle taste, not to sweet, spicy or heavy.
donatello likes all sorts of dumplings and is not a fan of overly sweet food + most desserts.
donatello would be willing to watch greys anatomy with you because he's a bitch and likes to point out inaccuracies which is hilarious coming from some bitch who doesn't have a medical license. however he does have respects for dr. gregory house, so he's decent enough when watching house.
donatello's favorite body part of yours? "whichever parts are the farthest away from me, thank you." your hands. your palms which press against his plastron, your fingertips that send shudders down his spine when you trace over his shell. every crevice, every knuckle, every detail. need i say more?
donatello likes subtle pda, not anything over the top but stolen kisses here and there and holding hands is perfect. and if his twin is being extra ballsy, he'd probably give you something of his (like his purple hoodie) and be a little, just a smidge more clingy then usual. maybe give him some knuckle kisses, i think he'd like that.
donatello with a bimbo lover. (or himbro/thembro whatever floats yo boat) he is twofold: he'd be peeved at someone not understanding basic things, but he'd also be inclined to tell you things. he loves to teach you new things, he'd be offended if you asked anyone else about something you don't understand.
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betweenlands · 6 months
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It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.
There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.
"What are you doing?" he says.
"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."
"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.
"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."
One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."
"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.
"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.
Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.
"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"
"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"
Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"
"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."
"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.
"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"
Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"
The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."
"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.
"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"
"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."
"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."
Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.
The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."
"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"
"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."
"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."
"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"
"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."
"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"
A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."
The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"
Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"
"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."
"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."
"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."
"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."
He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.
"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.
"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.
"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"
"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.
"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"
Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.
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heliads · 1 year
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Can I request a Loki x fem reader where the reader is a super kind empath Avenger and comforts Loki, who also has been recruited as an Avenger (very reluctantly) but is still a bit ostracized from everyone else on the team. The reader is able to see how poorly Loki was treated in the past and promises to be there for him. They both end up falling in love but are too afraid to tell each other (the reader is able to feel this weird warm and fuzzy emotion Loki directs at her and she can’t pin point what emotion it is). They end up confessing when Loki sees an avenger member take advantage of the readers sweetness so he steps into comfort her. He confesses and they kiss 😚
Also have an amazing day and take your time with requests!!!
hope you have an amazing day too!
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If you squint ever so slightly, peer out from the reach of your favorite chair just enough to see into the surrounding hallway, you can almost make out the silhouette of Tony Stark pacing back and forth outside his office door. 
As resident empath of the Avengers team, you’re in charge of reconnaissance, general battle backup, and checking in on everyone to make sure they’re still intact. You’ve also gone ahead and assumed that to mean that you can use your abilities to read the hearts of your teammates. Hey, it’s what they hired you to do, right? It’s not like you’re scanning their minds, now that would be invasive. All you’re doing is sensing how they’re feeling. Anyone could do that with a bit of good knowledge on body language.
You shift slightly, and there– you can just make out a cloud of colors circling Tony’s figure. That’s how emotions have always appeared to you ever since you were a kid. When people are having a perfectly normal day and not too much has happened, you’ll only be able to pick up on a tendril or two of colored smoke around their frame, a few hints at happy or sad but nothing too special. 
Conversely, when something crazy is going on, it’s like they’re walking out of a bank of mist, Mr. Darcy at the end of Pride and Prejudice (2005)-style. For instance, at this very moment you can’t even tell what shade of shirt Tony is wearing through the dense emotion rattling around him.
This is obviously a sign that something is going on. Usually, Tony’s pretty laid back, or at least he pretends to be. Cool blue is his trademark. Sometimes, closer to missions or just after them, you’ll see bright lime or sickly yellow lancing through them, panic and stress from too much pressure on his shoulders. You can sense his anxiety attacks before they start. Tony has no idea how many times you’ve used your gifts to divert those things, and if you have it your way, he’ll never figure it out.
Tony’s not panicking right now, though, or not in the way that you’re used to. Instead of purple or blue, all you can see around him is red, blazing red. Tony’s not usually a red kind of guy. Red means anger, outrage, and by the looks of him now, something has happened to cook up a regular bonfire of irritation.
As you watch, though, more colors join the fray. You can spot uneasy yellows and greens, an undercurrent of fear. What could possibly be going on to make Tony so unhappy? The situation is complicated, to be sure, but that’s nothing new around the Avengers. Take it from a S.H.I.E.L.D.- registered empath:  no one ever feels just one thing at one time. There’s always a dozen different emotions swirling in between your heart and head. And right now, Tony’s got quite a few to chew on.
Unable to contain your curiosity, you get up from your seat and pad over to him. Tony almost flinches when he turns and sees you, but he rubs a tired hand over one eye and greets you like normal.
You arch a brow at this attempt at pretending everything is fine. After all this time, Tony should know that you’re not one to get fooled by a pretty lie like that. “What’s going on? You’re totally freaking out.”
“So glad to see you, Y/N,” Tony complains, “I look great? Thanks for telling me. You’re always so quick with the compliments.”
You give him a look. “I know how you’re feeling. What’s up with you?”
“It’s not me you should be questioning,” he sighs, “it’s the newcomer to our team.”
You frown. “I didn’t think we were getting someone new.”
“We weren’t supposed to, but Fury added another guy last minute. Apparently it was either that or have him rot down in a cell for all eternity, and we don’t want to risk pissing off his brother,” Tony clarifies.
“Who’s his brother?” You ask, curious.
“Thor,” Tony says, and then you understand at last.
“Loki is joining the team?” You can’t believe it. Loki attacked New York all of six months ago. Sure, Fury has always been one to maximize opportunity, but you can’t believe he’d let Loki into the ranks of the Avengers so quickly.
“That’s what I said,” Tony harrumphed, “but apparently it’s already done. He’ll be coming up later today to meet us all. You know, without trying to kill us this time.”
You chuckle under your breath. “I can’t wait to see how that goes. How long do you think we have until Steve breaks out a patriotic speech on our or his behalf?”
Tony snorts. “It’ll happen any minute now. Look, here Steve comes up the stairs now. It’s like he marches everywhere he goes. Unreal.”
True to Tony’s suspicions, Steve, upon learning of Loki’s arrival, does indeed treat all of you to a talk about looking past first impressions. If the red flickering around his eyes and fists says anything, though, it’s that he’s just as pleased about the whole affair as Tony.
You, for one, aren’t sure what to make of the whole thing. Something must have happened to make Fury trust Loki, and until you learn otherwise, that’s as good an endorsement as you’ll get around here. Before long, Thor is marching into the Avengers complex with a stranger in tow, and all of a sudden, you have eyes on your new teammate.
It’s strange, your first impression of Loki. Second, technically, but you’re not counting the Battle of New York. That was different, you were trying to kill each other. Now you’re supposed to count on him to save your life.
Tony shoots a quick glance your way, cocking one brow as if to ask, getting anything? The honest answer is no, not yet. Asgardians are always hard to read, you figured that out when you first met Thor. Everything about them is different, even down to how they feel certain emotions. Loki is no exception. At first, you think he feels nothing at all. Then, you realize he’s just very good at hiding it. His back is perfectly straight, spine stiff and unfeeling.
That is, until you look a little deeper and you start to see the threads of colors playing around his clothes, his hands, his blank stare. They’re green in color, green and gold like the stitching on his apparel. They’re not happy emotions, these, they’re–
They’re fear. Loki is afraid. Not that anyone here will kill him, not that sort of fear. He is certain that all of you will reject him, that this great god will have to watch humans laugh at him and just deal with it anyway.
You can understand feeling like that. When you were first recruited to the Avengers, you almost thought it was a joke. Surely an empath wouldn’t be useful in the heat of the battle. They had to convince you of that later, once you could start changing people’s emotions instead of just reading them. Still, you know what it’s like to doubt yourself, even when you’re sure that you are worth more than anyone can imagine.
So, you step forward first, and greet him with a smile. “I’m Y/N,” you say, “it’s good to see you.”
Loki arches a brow, and you don’t have to read minds to know that he’s thinking is it? as strongly as he can. This confusion only grows when you hold out a hand to him. For a moment, you think he’s going to reject you, but your smile stays insistent. He doesn’t have to like you at all, but goddamnit, you’re going to like him. He can deal with that on his own terms.
He must be able to pick up on this sort of stubbornness, and for some reason this is what wins him over at last. Loki extends his hand to shake yours, and just like that, the ice is broken. It’s as if a collectively held breath is released across the room.
That isn’t to say that the rest of the Avengers take to him so readily, nor that Loki is as willing to accept them as you. He tends to stick to himself, avoiding crowds unless he can’t avoid it. He begrudgingly tells you it’s because being around that many people either reminds him of Asgard or the battle or both.
He tells you a lot, actually. It doesn’t all happen at first. He may have shaken your hand, but he seems dead set on despising you. However, you’d made up your mind to win him over at that point, and you weren’t going to rest until you met your goal. It took a lot of slow, deliberate effort, but before long the conversations weren’t so one-sided and you swore he actually smiled when you entered the room.
Also, he stopped hiding his emotions as much. The first time you saw a hesitant wave of goldenrod brush across his shoulders, you thought you were hallucinating. It was there the next time you saw him, though, and the next, and the next, deepening to sunset orange and staying there. Happiness. He liked being near you.
Once trust was built, real friendship could follow suit. Turns out Loki was just as reluctant to join the Avengers as your lot was to welcome him in, but when Director Fury makes a decision, pretty much everyone has to follow suit. Thor had warned him against causing more trouble, so Loki was here to stay. He used to think that was a bad thing, but judging by the way his tone has softened as of late, he might not be so sure of that anymore.
Loki starts to tell you more, once he stops thinking of you as an outsider. He tells you about Thanos, about how he had twisted Loki’s mind so that he could only attack the city. You had suspected something was wrong with Loki during the Battle of New York– his eyes glowed a strange color, the emotions flickering around his chest were almost alien, so unusual even for a god– but hearing it is the confirmation you needed to be sure. Loki had not attacked you in his own mind. He had not tried to kill you, that was someone else forcing his hand.
That last part was especially crucial. The night he finally told you about Thanos’ control, Loki had not been able to leave until he was certain that you understood that it had not been him leading the attack on the Avengers and your home. At last, you convince him that it is alright, and only then can he rest easy.
The rest of the Avengers aren’t able to share in this peace, however. They don’t want to give Loki a chance, which, seeing as they’re not able to actually see his emotions, you can sort of understand, but at this point it’s growing tiresome. It’s been months now since Loki joined the team, and he has not lied to or betrayed or attempted to murder anyone. You want to yell at them to grow up, but you don’t feel like picking someone else’s fights.
Instead, you’d rather spend your time pondering another puzzle. Loki’s moods have shifted again towards you, but this time you cannot understand them at all. Something’s changed about the way he looks at you, how he speaks, and you have no clue what any of it means.
When you have trouble, though, there’s only one surefire solution:  you need to talk to Natasha Romanoff. Nat’s been your best friend since you joined the Avengers, actually. She gets you. You get her. It’s a good time all around.
So, Natasha doesn’t look too surprised when you all but throw yourself into one of the chairs in her favorite space in the complex one sunny morning. The only question on her mind isn’t to ask what’s up with you but what Loki’s done now.
You grimace. “I don’t know, that’s the worst part. He’s acting weirdly.”
“Isn’t that normal for Loki?” Nat questions. “I mean, he is a disgruntled younger brother/frost giant/Norse god. I feel like weird for him is kind of expected.”
“No,” you argue, “This is different. Something’s changed.”
Natasha furrows her brow. “And you haven’t been able to pick up on anything?”
“Well,” you hesitate, “maybe there’s something. I have no idea what it is, though. It’s happy, I think, but it’s sad at times, too, and flickery, like even he can’t explain it. I don’t know how to describe it in the slightest.”
She nods decisively. “It’s love.”
You blink in surprise. “What? No, I just said I had no idea what this is. There’s no way you would be able to guess it so quickly.”
Nat shrugs. “Actually, your vague description was exactly why I know what this is. Only love makes no sense like that. Love makes you happy, but it breaks your heart, right? It confuses the hell out of you because that’s what it’s supposed to do. There’s nothing else that could make anyone feel like a mess of emotion but love.”
You sigh. “That still leaves the fact that it’s Loki, though. You actually think he’s in love with me? I’m a human. I mean, inhuman, technically, but same difference to him. Why would a literal Asgardian god ever look at me like that?”
Natasha’s gaze is knowing, but you can’t quite meet her eyes. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t. You won him over faster than anyone was expecting. I think the biggest question isn’t what he’s feeling, but what you are.”
You brush her concern aside. “Well, of course I know how I feel. I’ve had this much time figuring out how other people’s emotions work, it’s like a user manual for what certain things feel like in your own head. I just can’t believe that he truly feels the same. Maybe he’s trying to trick me by pretending to feel a certain way, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Nat scoffs. “I thought you were the president of the ‘Stop Loki Hate’ fan club. What’s gotten you doubting him again?”
You shoot her a look. “I’m not doubting him, just myself. Also, there’s no such fan club. Fury banned us from attending Avengers-based clubs, remember?”
She nods mournfully. “All it took was one bad experience. Look, all of us showing up to the ‘Personally Victimized by Nick Fury’ meeting was funny. He was just being a bad sport.”
You smile fondly. “I remember. I’ve never seen that much red in my life. He was totally outraged.”
“Oh, I know. You didn’t need empathy powers to tell that much. At least we abstained from putting on the fake eye patches.” Nat muses.
You bite back a laugh. “Yeah, that might have been overkill. Anyway, back to the point. Are we sure about this?”
“We’re sure,” Natasha assures you, “I’m sure you’ll get in your own head about it later, though.”
“You can count on it,” you grin, and say your goodbyes.
Natasha is right as usual, as it turns out. Both about your feelings and the fact that you would second guess yourself. You were going to say something to Loki, but you talked yourself out of it later that night. It just feels wrong, that’s all. There’s no way a literal prince of the gods would fall in love when you’re just, well, you.
You do your best to push it out of your head, Nat’s knowing glances be damned. Life is too busy to contemplate men who won’t speak their minds. It feels like a new crisis hits New York every week. Speaking of which, you’ve actually got complaints about that. Namely, the fact that you haven’t been on a mission in quite some time despite your status as an Avenger.
You get frustrated once a couple of months have gone by without you seeing a fight. You pull Steve aside when you hear about something going wrong again. “I saw Fury’s memo about needing an extraction team for a situation over in Spain. Can I sign up?”
Steve shakes his head. “Thanks for the offer, Y/N, but we’ve already got enough guys on that team.”
You frown at him. “You can never have too many guys on an extraction team. It’s, like, Avengers lore that stuff always goes wrong on those. I can at least tag along as backup just in case. I’ll grab my gear and be off in like five minutes.”
Steve doesn’t seem willing to back down, though. “Look, I’m glad you’re passionate about the team, but we’re good, honestly. If you’re getting bored, just join the next mission, I’m sure one will come up sooner than later.”
You sigh. “That’s what everyone said last mission, and the one before that, too. I haven’t been out of the complex on official business in three months. I’m an Avenger, Steve, let me act like one.”
Steve puts his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Y/N, I meant what I said about being glad you want to help, but this is serious. I’m a supersoldier, that’s why I’m out there all the time. Nat’s been trained for this sort of stuff since she was a kid. It makes sense to send us, right? You know we value your gifts, but we can’t risk hurting you.”
Your stomach twists. “You mean, I’m really best when I’m looking at people’s heads, not actually in a fight.”
Steve doesn’t seem to realize he’s upset you, and he nods emphatically. “Exactly! You’ve got a great skill set, just not for right now. I bet we’ll find something soon, though.”
You flash him a thumbs up, already walking back down the hallway so he can’t see the way your face twists. “Can’t wait.”
You let your composure drop the second you’re around the corner. Is this really how they feel? You were useful in the Battle of New York, you know that, and the other agents say you’ve been improving with your abilities by leaps and bounds. You’re handy with a gun or knife, too, so you know you could survive a fight and be of use. You’ve done it before, why are they so keen on stopping you now?
It makes you feel, well, useless. It’s hard to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly change course to head for your private quarters. You don’t want anyone to see you like this.
Of all the fantastic timing, though, the one person you want to run into least of all right now steps into the hallway just as you think that. Loki nods at you as usual, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head dismissively, trying to physically will yourself to look normal. “Nothing! I’m great. Everything’s good.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, though, and reaches out a careful hand towards you. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like everything is good.”
You let out a watery laugh, and that does it. “No, actually, things are terrible. Everyone on the team sees me as a joke.”
Loki frowns, clearly taken aback. “Well, that’s not true at all. I don’t see you as a joke in the slightest.”
“Everyone else, then,” you amend with a messy wave of your hand, “I’ve been trying to convince them to let me on a mission for months and they won’t do it. I know my gifts are damn near useless, but I just want to help.”
“That’s not true,” Loki repeats, “They’re a lot of good, actually, and you know that. You’re the best interrogator they have, even compared to Romanoff. You see through everyone’s lies in a heartbeat, even mine, and I’ve had plenty more time to practice them than most. You can sense a trap or ambush in half a second. They’re fools for not wanting you out there with them.”
You smile weakly at him. “You don’t have to say all of that. Thanks, though.”
“Of course I do,” Loki says blankly, “it’s true, and I need to.”
“Why?” You ask curiously.
Loki swallows hard, looks away, and then you see it again– that faint mist of pink, right over his heart. It’s just like Nat said, isn’t it? Just like that.
He forces his gaze back to you, and you’re shocked by the certainty in his eyes after all this time of ducking around your feelings. “It’s true because I love you, and I would not be able to stand it if you let the rest of them talk you into thinking otherwise. They’re toy soldiers, the lot of them, all the same. They couldn’t see real worth if it was standing right in front of them.”
You smile, and for once it’s not cracked or teary or anything, it’s real, as real as the pink ribbons tying the two of you together. “I love you too,” you say.
“Of course you do,” he replies, but he’s smiling too, and you think– no, you know– that everything is going to be alright.
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727 notes · View notes
mikareo · 5 months
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⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries
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“ ࣭⸰ ★ HOPELESS ROMANTIC ; geto x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode four ! ꒱ . . . word count; 0.9k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ leaves are falling, and he is too
⊹ ⠀⠀ with so many love stories on the shelf, geto feels his heart being influenced. if he's going to fall in love with anyone...it's you.
contains; geto suguru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, love triangle
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist
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"suguru how do you expect me to read when my heart is in a million pieces?"
he doesn't think he's ever met a person as dramatic as you are.
"these books can't teach me how to get laid."
it's kind of cute, though. annoying...but cute.
with the november breeze sweeping the leaves from every tree on campus, winter is approaching fast and geto feels like your irritation towards gojo is at an overwhelming high. there really isn't anything he can do about it. after all, he wasn't there when you oh-so-spontaneously confessed your undying love for satoru on halloween; to which you received a brutal rejection...this is why geto doesn't date— especially why he doesn't date in a world run by satoru gojo.
now, geto has done his very best at trying to distract you from the devastating heartbreak that comes with loving his best friend. there have many so many girls before you who've tried to get on with him after being ignored by the white haired boy; which is extremely insulting that any of them thought geto would be an easy target or a second option to satoru. when geto does fall in love, he hopes that it'll be with someone who chooses him first. someone who doesn't even consider their other options and believes that he's the only person in the entire world who can fit with their uneven puzzle piece. clearly, gojo isn't the person to fit with yours.
"maybe you just need to sit down and be silent?" he purses his lips in annoyance, trying his best to focus on the words of poetry and rhyme. poems are the language of love. you could take some advice from these lines. "you're talking so much that you're not even enjoying the book."
you groan. "this book is boring. who the fuck reads poetry for fun?"
um. he does.
the glare he sends your way is intimidating, but also gentle. "what would you like to read instead? since you're such an avid reader?"
his sarcasm is meant to be insulting.
a mischievous smile creeps into the corners of your lips; smile likes yours used to scare him as a child after having seen alice in wonderland one too many times. he never understood the other children's fascination with a purple, talking cat. it's just weird. "how about this one!"
the book your present to him isn't anything he's read before. actually, it's something that he hopes to never read ever. "you're kidding."
"dead serious!"
how is a cheesy romance supposed to make you feel better?
"that's just going to make you feel worse, y'know." he gently takes the book from your hands and shuffles through the pages. with his head nodding along to each words his eyes skim, it's painfully obvious that you're going to read this book imagining the male lead to be satoru. "you have such an active imagination, you'll be heartbroken all over again."
with his words, your smile melts and geto knows he's right. "satoru is a lost cause in the romance department." he explains, scooting a little closer to you and rubbing your knee. the two of you have been seated on the floor of the lovely little bookshop near campus for an hour now. you're practically the only two people in the entire store, which has made this fake date feel a little more real. "i promise that you're better off dating anyone other than him."
you don't move away from the comfort of his palm, and instead lean into it; but your words are in defense of gojo. they always are. you can't seem to find it in your heart to let him go— no matter how awful of a rejection. "he's not a bad guy. he just needs a little help learning how to love."
the look in your eyes is earnest and geto sees that you believe your statements with your whole heart.
"i can be the person to help him learn."
there's no physical tell that you're upset, but he can somehow sense that you're about to cry. maybe it's the way you slightly tensed up with your body rejecting his soft touch or the way your gaze refused to meet his; no matter, he's going to cheer you up anyways. there aren't many people that geto can make smile— but somehow, in the past four months of being your friend (?), you've become the only person he cares to cheer up.
he murmurs your name in the most comforting, gentle voice that anyone's ever spoken to you. "you are the most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe; and you are capable of amazing things—"
"because you are the special. suguru, i've seen the lego movie. you're not being slick." aw man.
your tone of voice is irritated, yet you still laugh. yes, geto knows that might possibly have been the stupidest and cheesiest thing he's done in his whole life, but he doesn't care. he made you smile. him! not satoru. geto suguru made you smile. it's not something he'd win an olympic medal for, though in his mind it's worth more than that. he doesn't know when you became so special to him. he doesn't know how you managed to creep your way into his heart and cause this embarrassing blush to consume his cheeks; and he isn't bothered to figure it out.
he doesn't want to rejoice in your heartbreak...however, there is a tiny part of him that's happy satoru doesn't love you back.
maybe it's finally time suguru gets to be loved.
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist
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darthannie · 6 months
Text
day twenty-four: age difference with jim
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pairing: Jim x f!reader word count: 1,500 warnings: age gap relationship, almost sugar daddy! Jim (will have to look into that, it’s making me think things), fingering, unprotected p in v a/n: This one took longer and work stopped me from writting but HERE WE ARE. I need him so terribly it's not fair. kinktober masterlist
Dating apps were tricky. Your friend convinced you to up the age settings in the multiple apps that you used. She really didn’t have to say much. She simply showed you all the men that showed up on her app and you knew you had to follow suit. They weren’t all winners, but some of them stood out. Day in and day out you received multiple matches. One in particular seemed to be going somewhere. You matched with a man named Jim. He was about nineteen years older than you and he was gorgeous. You didn’t understand how a man like that could be single, but you guessed you’d find out soon enough.
You had always thought about being with an older man but didn’t think you’d go through with it. The hushed conversations at three in the morning proved that you were more than willing to follow through. You were opening up to each other even before your first meeting. You found out he was recently divorced. He confessed that he cheated on her, which took you aback. But, that answered your question. That’s why he was single. But, you grew to understand. It wasn’t like you didn’t have your skeletons.
You both were in the same boat though. You were not looking for anything serious and you both needed something new. You were becoming his something new. It took a couple of weeks before the conversation turned sexual. His messages made you blush and yearn for him. Sexting was not something you’d done much in the past. But, for Jim, you sent anything he asked for. It was thrilling to have an attractive older man lust for you. He sent you money to buy lingerie in his favorite color. You smiled as you remembered the soft purple fabric you hid away for a special occasion.
He invited you out to dinner, wanting to take you out first before going further. You were surprised this was his version of “nothing serious”. The restaurant was upscale and the menu prices reflected that. Your eyes almost bulged out of your head when you saw how much a pasta dish cost. He chuckled, “Don’t worry about the cost. I’m taking care of the bill. Get whatever you think looks good, love.”
One thing you weren’t expecting was getting weird looks from some of the wait staff. You were insecure about it, but whenever you looked back at Jim you felt just fine. Things felt easy with him. In such a short time, you were already attached to him. You knew catching feelings for a man much older than you would bring forth questions from friends and family, especially if you ended up together. For now, he was your best kept secret.
Dinner went by too quickly. You both didn’t want the night to end, so you ended up at his apartment. It was nice. Modern. Better than what you had going on at your apartment. You tossed your purse on the couch and sat next to it. Your dress rode up, exposing more of your thighs. He took notice as he sat down next to you. You stretched as he got comfortable. He was watching your every move. You made eye contact for a few moments and sat in an awkward silence.
“What?”, you chuckled.
“Nothing,” he smiled, “you’re just so beautiful. I can’t help but stare.”
Your heart swelled in your chest and you kissed him before your brain could tell you not to. He was ready for it, kissing you back feverishly, placing his hand on the side of your face to pull you even closer. You straddled him on the couch and put your hands on his chest, kissing down to his neck. His hands rested on your waist, gripping your hips and pulling you down. You bucked your hips, seeking any bit of friction you could. His head leaned back as he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of your lips on his neck. When he opened his eyes, you were looking back at him.
“I need you, Jim. Really bad.” Your voice was desperate.
“A young woman like you being with an old man like me. Are you sure?”, he asked.
You laughed, “More than sure. Plus, you’re not that old.” Now it was his turn to laugh. He was painfully aware of how this looked, but he didn’t care. He was in awe of you. He felt lucky that you were even in his home, let alone on his lap asking him to fuck you.
“Come,” he said. He led you to his bedroom and you threw yourself on his bed, rolling over to lay on your back and nuzzling the pillows. He stood over the bed, smiling down at you. You made a “come here” motion with your pointer finger and he rolled his eyes before crawling over you. He planted kisses all over you, starting with your face and moving to your neck and shoulders. You scrunched up your dress and he followed your lead, pulling it over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He took off his shirt and undid his pants, pulling them down. He admired your figure underneath him, wearing his favorite color.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. The feeling of his body against yours, his hands working on your bra, and finally his hand cupping you over your panties was overwhelming. “Is this for me?”, he said patting over the fabric. A giggle escaped your lips, “Yes, all yours.” He grinned and used his fingers to pull them aside. His fingers slipped right inside you, earning him a whimper. All it took was that one sound to make him addicted to you. His goal for the foreseeable future was to have you make those sounds as much as possible. He watched you as you looked down, jaw dropped at the feeling of his fingers working inside you. You wanted to skip all the formalities. No more foreplay. You just needed him inside of you. The sight of him, almost naked, turned you on even more.
You ran your fingers through his greying hair. He looked very good for his age. Images of the two of you together swirled around your brain. Going on long walks, going out to dinner, moving in together. Maybe this was just a one-time thing, but you’d be damned if it was. His weight shifted on the bed, pulling you out of your daydream. He pulled down his underwear and you got a good look at him. Your mouth watered. He stroked himself a couple of times before reaching over to grab a condom.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t wait any longer.” He sounded needy.
You put out your hand as he reached for the bedside table. “Do we have to use one?”
He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, “Do you not want to use one?”
“I don’t. I want to feel you. All of you.” He moved his hand away from the nightstand and cupped your cheek, ardently kissing your lips. He used his other hand to line himself up at your entrance, teasing you with the tip. Grunts and moans filled the room when he finally sank into you. You grabbed his head and pulled him into a sloppy kiss as he started moving in and out of you. His pace was moderate; it was clear he was trying to savor the moment. It wasn’t every day he was able to be with someone half his age, but he desperately wanted this to be an everyday affair. He stared into your eyes and his mouth fell open as he moaned. He leaned down and kissed your neck as he said your name before you moaned his.
He pulled back and his pace quickened. The eye contact was making you weak. You thought about asking him to finish inside you and he thought the same, but that was off the table. You both knew better than to risk anything. Your orgasm hit you first and his followed soon after. He pulled out and came on your stomach. You watched as he made a mess of you. When you both caught your breath he quickly slipped out of the room saying, “Wait right there.” You exhaled with a smile, wondering where else you’d be going at that moment.
He returned with a warm cloth and cleaned you off. He got back in bed and gestured for you to cuddle up against him. You looked up at him, admiring the faint lines on his face. He took your hand and placed his palm against yours. He looked down at you as he interlaced his fingers with yours. He kissed the top of your hand.
He was hopeful when he asked “Would you like to stay the night? I wouldn’t mind the company.”
You hid your excited smile and collected yourself before looking back at him. “I’d love to.”
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ellephlox · 6 months
Text
Lights Out
Summary: You’re touring a haunted house with Matt, and the entire building loses power when a thunderstorm arrives. On the bright side, you’ve got Matt to lead you out (when he’s not taking advantage of your inability to see). 
Pairing: Matt x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Creepy haunted house imagery, swears
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The sign for local attractions on the highway was battered and scratched, bearing the words HAUNTED HOUSE — EXIT 64. Rain pounded on the windshield as you drove; it was a long seven hours from the weekend holiday you’d taken with Matt back to Hell’s Kitchen, and you were only halfway done the drive. There was obviously no way for Matt to switch off with you, so instead he kept pushing for rest stops so that you could stretch your legs from the driving, despite your assurance to him that it was okay. 
You pulled into a parking spot outside the attraction, mud and dirt grinding under the tires. Once the key was out of the ignition, the silence of the engine was eerily fitting for the view of the haunted mansion in front of you, especially with the pounding of the rain on the roof. 
“Wow,” you said, peering up at it. “This thing’s actually pretty big. It looks Gothic — there’s a rounded tower-like part on the left, with bay windows, I think. In the center where the roof is highest, it’s pointy and there’s a weathervane with a skull on top. The outside is painted a really ugly purple. Oh, and the decorations are awesome. They look genuine, too; gravestones, a body sticking out of the chimney, blood splattered all over the front porch. Ha. There’s even a hearse parked next to us.”
“Scary or corny, overall?”
“It looks pretty good. I’d say it’s scary but you’re here with me,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Ready?”
You paid at the ticket booth and then entered the mansion. Only once you were safely inside, far from any of the workers, did Matt drop his hand from your arm. “There’s no one else here,” he said. “Just you and me.”
You nodded at a skeleton sitting at a piano. “And Mr. Bones right there.”
Matt tilted his head. “There’s a motion sensor ahead. Probably there’s going to be a jump scare.”
“Well, it’s not a jump scare anymore,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How much of this can you sense, anyway?”
“It’s... kind of a confusing influx of sensory details. Different machines behind the walls for all the animatronics and music, weird smells coming from everything, and I can feel the shifts in air pressure when something’s moving. It’s all kind of a... bonfire of input.”
Sure enough, a vampire sprung out of a coffin moments later, and even with Matt’s warning you still flinched, heart skipping a beat when it shrieked at you. The layout of the mansion was narrow and winding; different hallways took you through a variety of different rooms and scares. Some of the sights were admittedly scary; an animatronic girl with stringy hair and an axe came flying out of the shadows, and even the floorboards and doors beside you would buckle unexpectedly as you passed by them. To your delight, one of the picture frames turned to life and even caught Matt off guard — you felt him stir slightly beside you. The path through the mansion took you up two flights of stairs, all the way to the top floor of the house. 
“It’s a kitchen!” you said, admiring the decorations. “With — ew. Blood coming out of the faucet. And fingers baking in the oven.”
But Matt had his head tilted slightly towards the window. “Lightning’s about to strike,” he said suddenly, and true to his word, a massive flash lit up the entire room only a second later. The clap of thunder that followed was nearly simultaneous with the lightning, and rattled the mansion so hard that the window shook. 
And that was when the mansion lost power. Everything, all at once, fell silent as though it had been muted, and you were plunged from shadowy, dim lighting into absolute pitch blackness. 
“Matt?” you said uncertainly, reaching out for him and only finding empty space. The thought of all the things around you — amusing only moments ago — suddenly made your heart spike. 
“Right here.” Matt grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Any light coming in at all?”
You waved your hand in front of your eyes. “Nothing. It’s like a black hole in here. And of course we left our phones in the car,” you grumbled, shifting closer to Matt. “A flashlight would be nice.”
“No light is coming in through the window?”
“Only when there’s lightning. And I don’t think there are many windows in this labyrinth.” Gingerly you stepped forward. “This is... not fun.”
“I’m personally very offended by how opposed you are to being visually impaired.”
You frowned. “You make fun of my bad hearing all the time — which, by the way, is not bad hearing, it’s simply normal-person hearing.”
“I think it’s bad hearing.”
“We’re allowed to make fun of each other’s senses,” you continued. “That’s the most important tenet of dating someone.”
“Oh, really? Then I’m free to tell you that you’ve got absolutely terrible common sense?”
“Ha, ha. You’re so clever,” you deadpanned. “Are we out of the creepy kitchen yet?"
“Yeah.” Matt nudged you to the right. “This way.”
“Are we close to the exit?”
“No. It’s probably another ten minute walk, at the very least.”
“Lovely. Why doesn’t this place have a generator?”
“It should. This could be a huge liability. If someone got hurt and decided to sue, the owners could easily get in trouble.”
“Only someone who had to endure the trauma of a bar exam would think about liabilities when the power goes out,” you said appreciatively. “So... we’ve got two flights of stairs to go down?”
“Three. The exit’s in the basement,” Matt said. “Watch out. There’s fake cobwebs ahead of us.”
You were glad for the warning, because the revolting sensation of gossamer threads brushing against your face would have otherwise been disturbing. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the hallway, and for a moment you were face-to-face with a ghastly clown that was grinning beside you. You yelped, nearly falling backwards into Matt. Adrenaline soared through you, and you couldn’t help but squint through the darkness in an attempt to make sure the clown wasn’t moving. It was to no avail — when the lightning was gone, so was any visibility.
“Take a deep breath,” Matt said, nudging you with his shoulder. “Your heart’s going a hundred miles an hour.”
“There’s a clown, Matt.”
“And he’s made of rubber, wood, and plastic.”
Lightning flashed again, and you winced at the clown’s companion, a bloody jester gloating on your left. “Are the haunted house workers coming in to help?”
“No. There’s only one worker, and based on the way her heart jumped with the power going out, I highly doubt she’s going to walk alone into a haunted mansion with all the lights off. Careful, the hallway twists a bit right here.” Matt gently guided you to the left. You went forward reluctantly, feeling that you were about to walk into something at any second despite your trust in Matt. “And there are two steps down right here.”
“Right where?” you asked, slowing to a halt.
“Right here, in front of us.”
Anxiously you edged your toe forward, feeling for the drop of the step. “This is incredibly creepy.”
“I’ll tell you when to step. Just keep going, and step downward when I say.” Matt tugged you forward, and you resisted, moving as carefully as possible until you were down the steps. 
“I don’t like this,” you informed him. “Because I know for a fact that there are probably zombies or vampires or something in here.”
“Dolls, actually.”
“Oh, God. Are you serious?”
Matt laughed. “At least, I think they’re dolls. Ceramic faces, stringy hair, small size.” He took your hand and guided it in front of you. “Here. Want to feel one?”
“No!” 
“There are lots of dolls in here. And it feels... dark. Wait.” Matt’s hand suddenly held yours more tightly.
“Well, I could’ve told you it’s dark in here.”
“No. I mean... a different type of dark.” Matt was silent, and you imagined he was cocking his head. 
“What is it?” you asked, squinting around as though it would suddenly help you to see the surroundings. 
“Something’s moving,” he whispered. “One of the dolls.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean a doll is moving,” he repeated. “Wait here—”
And then he pulled his hand away from yours, lost in the blackness of the house.
“Shit!” you yelped, hugging yourself. “Matt! Don’t leave me here!”
There was a small crash to your left, and then footsteps, slow and creaking, from behind you. Holy shit holy shit fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkk—
“Matt!” you shrieked. “Come back!”
And then, you felt something behind you, and the warm exhale of someone breathing near your ear. “Boo,” Matt said, in a low voice, and you automatically swung around so quickly with your fist that you would have socked him in the face, had he not caught your wrist first. 
“Shit – sorry, I didn’t mean to almost punch you—” You stopped yourself, mid-apology. “What the hell, Matt? You’re awful! How could you do that to me?”
To your indignation, he actually chuckled, sounding so damn pleased with himself that you would’ve marched away and continued on your own if you could actually see. “You know, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever heard your heart go.”
“Yeah, because you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.” Matt wrapped an arm around you as he continued steering you forward. “But you must have known that this was coming, sweetheart.”
“Um, no, I didn’t think I had it ‘coming’ because I thought I could trust my boyfriend to lead me out of a freaking pitch-black haunted mansion without trying to prank me like a five-year-old—”
“I couldn’t resist.”
“You couldn’t resist. Oh, well, that justifies it,” you grumbled, pushing at him again. “How much longer until we’re out of here?”
“Stairs to the first floor are right in front of us. Then we’re almost to the basement.” Matt dropped one of his hands so that it was on your lower back. “Your eyes haven’t adjusted at all?”
“I think the clouds are too thick for any moonlight to come through. And, of course, the lightning now decides to not flash at all.” You wished you could simply sense your surroundings like Matt could. “You’re amazing.”
“Weren’t you just saying I was awful?”
“No, really. I mean, the fact that you’re able to do all that you do, considering you can’t see; and me, the second I can’t see, I’m completely useless. It just makes me admire so much more the way that—”
“Stairs,” Matt warned. “Thirteen steps.”
“Thanks. But it just makes me admire so much more the way you... honed your senses, I guess. I mean, how many girls can brag that their blind boyfriend easily led them out of a haunted house with the navigation skills of someone with night-vision goggles?”
“It’s easier than you’d think.” Matt stopped suddenly, his fingers lightly raising to brush your upper arm and spin you so that your back was pressed into his chest. “Listen.”
You obeyed, falling as quiet as possible. Even this close to Matt, though, you couldn’t hear his heartbeat. “Matt, I’m not going to magically have your ability to hear well—”
“You don’t need my level of hearing,” Matt said. “Sometimes you just need to listen more closely. Hear that whistling?”
You focused. It was faint, but audible. “Yeah.”
“What’s that coming from?”
“Sounds like the wind coming through a vent.” Realization dawned on you. “Which means that there’s a wall in front of us.”
“Exactly. And did you hear that scuffle above us?”
“Yeah, that thump?” You hadn’t even paid attention to it until now. “It was probably that worker, right? Which means... we’re in the back lefthand corner of the house.”
“See? Easier than it seems,” Matt said, leaning in and kissing your temple. “You’re a natural, sweetheart.”
You smiled, feeling heat rise up your neck. “That’s really nice of you, but I know what you’re up to. You feel guilty for scaring me earlier and now you’re trying to make up for it with flattery.”
“Floor gets squishy right here,” Matt said suddenly, and you were glad for the warning as the wooden floorboards beneath your feet unexpectedly transitioned to foam. “They really went all-out with this haunted house.”
“Too bad we’re missing most of it. And... Matt, I love you for guiding me, but can we please slow down?” you said, leaning backwards to reduce the speed Matt was leading you at. “I feel like I’m about to walk into a wall.”
“Sorry.” Matt slowed his pace. “We’re almost out. You know, I’ll miss this a bit.”
“What, me being temporarily blind?”
“Yeah. Because you can’t see things like this coming.”
“Things like what—?”
But then Matt’s lips were on yours, passionate and hard, as he pressed you backwards into what was presumably a normal wall and hopefully not an upright coffin or anything gory. You made a small sound of surprise and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Matt’s left hand cupped the back of your head, and his right groped underneath your shirt on your lower back; goosebumps ran up and down your arms.
And then, without warning, the lights flooded on, machines and animatronics beside you whirring to life. You jumped, heart skipping at the massive demon leering on the ceiling above you. Painted flames danced on the walls and a horned mannequin, eyes blinking and head rotating back and forth, grinned at you deviously. “Oh, God. We’re in Hell, I think.”
“We are? I wasn’t really paying attention.” Matt leaned in and kissed you one more time. “Your body was just a bit distracting.”
“Okay. New idea, Matt,” you said, staring at the fiery devil as it continued to sneer at you. “I see a really, really, really amazing photo opportunity. If the attendant lets me, I’m going to run and get my phone from the car quickly, then I’ll be back.”
“You’re going to abandon a blind man in a haunted mansion? How will I ever know where to go if you’re not allowed back inside to guide me?”
You laughed. “I’ll convince her to let me back in.”
And that was how, a week later, you happily received a photo print in the mail: Matt standing beside an animatronic devil, pointing at it with his thumb and smiling widely.
A/N: This is based off of a really neat haunted mansion that I visited on Prince Edward Island awhile back. Happy almost Halloween, everyone!
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