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#he’s beautiful and I am bending him over as we speak
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Felt the need to doodle this—
but I was too lazy to finish the second arm lmao
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lsuyia · 3 months
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❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑❞
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A/N - ngl i literally pulled this out my ass at 11 am since i rlly needed to start posting on my tumblr more, pls request fic ideas!
relationship is established! also fem!reader
MDNI
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ᡣ𐭩
satoru gojo, just seems like the the type of person to randomly be scrolling on instgram,— barely finding interesting and find a video of a baby.
The baby could be doing anything, laughing, giggling, saying its first word,—and like fucking magic will automatically text you about it, spam calling you
it all just started as one simple cute video that satoru saw, making his baby fever go through the roof.
One fucking video, was all it took.
You would get home from work, wanting to take a nap, oh but here he comes, bending you over on the kitchen table, making your legs tremble, just so he can try to get you pregnant.
“Spread wide open f’me, yeah?”
You started to wonder what was going on when one day he magically appeared when you were showering saying he wanted to shower with his beautiful girlfriend, which you knew he was lying straight through his teeth.
Few minutes later, he has you pinned against the shower wall, going at an ungodly pace bruising your cervix in the process with every thrust as he smiles seeing breathless, flustered face.— which some how always seemed to keep him hard.
“Just a little longer for daddy?”
You automatically knew when he said that something was going on, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
For days straight, satoru would always have you bend over, legs up, on the floor,on the wall, in the bed, in the car fucking you dumb until he finally came inside you.
Everytime.
At this point you were getting concerned that you might actually get you pregnant.
So, you decided to finally open up about the whole dilemma, you couldnt keep going on like this.
“toru baby?” You called out to him after minutes thinking about if you should actually do this. “coming.” He said back as his light footsteps treaded across the living room before finally appearing in-front of you before he sat beside you. “yeah honeybun?” He softly spoke to you while his hand traveled to your thighs, squeezing at the plush.
“I wanted to talk to you about something..” You trailed off at the end, which in gojo’s eyes sounded pretty serious to him. His head immediately turned to look at you looking at you concerned. “Do you think we could like…—calm down with the sex?”
You spoke softly to him not even looking at him out of pure embarrassment of the situation. The silence was so loud after you spoke to him,— until he finally casually spoke back to you“yea baby thats fine, if you wanted to calm down you could’ve told me earlier.” He said with a shrug seeming like the situation didn’t affect him at all.
Oh but, it very much did.
In his eyes, It sounded like you didnt want to have a child with him, which drove him absolutely insane.
The constant sex ban worked for a full month until he was back at it again.
You couldn’t even take off your shoes without him touching your nipples through your clothes, just to turn you on and get you into bed with him.
One thing lead to another and you and him getting into a heated argument in your shared bedroom.
“Gojo, what is up with you? I cant even walk into the fucking house without you trying to finger me!” you exclaimed practically yelling at him. Your attitude towards him at him caught in a dumb daze. You were starting to get tired of the constant sex every day.
He was yelling back before but now he was silent as he stood in front of you not speaking, you rarely ever called him last name which let him know you were pretty serious about the whole ordeal.
He couldn’t keep his need for you under wraps for any longer.
“Honeybun, I want a baby.” He said to you, as his light blue eyes locked with yours.
You were honestly shocked at him, he wanted a baby? The only word you could even speak was
“what?”
“honeybun, I want a baby with you.” He leaned towards you cupping your face as he planted tender kisses.
“I want to see you and me mixed together, I wanna see both of us go through mother and fatherhood, I want to see all of you honeybun.” He said grabbing your hands interlocking them with his. He was really genuine and heartfelt about the whole baby fever nonsense.
You were still in slight shock, but you had a small thought about the idea of you and satoru’s kid still fresh in your mind at the moment
Needless to say, you finally found out why gojo was acting crazy all those months ago
You sighed watching television with your pregnant belly while gojo had his arms wrapped around you and his head lightly resting on your stomach, careful not to hurt you at any point
“Their going to be so cute.”
he hummed giving your tummy a tender kiss.
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melzula · 1 month
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zuko confiding in sokka to be his wingman to try to get together with you?
a/n: sokka sharing his back bending skills with zuko we love to see it. also this takes place post-war
summary: Zuko isn’t sure how to tell you he likes you, so he looks to Sokka for guidance
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Zuko watches longingly from across the room as you dance with Katara and enjoy the night’s festivities. Your eyes sparkle with joy and your smile is so infectious it has everyone around you beaming. Everyone seems to want your attention, and so he hadn’t been able to speak to you much since the party began, but he desperately wants to be near you.
“You know you look like a total creep when you stand in the corner and stare, right?” Sokka notes, interrupting Zuko’s sulking.
“I’m not staring!” The Fire Lord says defensively, but he knows he’s not fooling anyone.
“Come on, buddy, it’s a party! Lighten up! Go mingle!”
“I don’t want to mingle,” Zuko grumbles indignantly, “I just want to talk to y/n.”
“Then go talk to her!” Sokka encourages as if it’s the most easiest thing in the world. “It’s not like you haven’t talked to her before. She’s our friend!”
“I know that,” the boy bites irritably. Deflating, he sighs, “But it’s different this time.”
“What do you mean?” Sokka says, his demeanor morphing into that of a more serious tone.
“I… I think I have feelings for her.”
“You what?!” Sokka exclaims, earning a few puzzled stares from nearby partygoers. Zuko sends his friend a harsh look and urges him to be quiet.
“I know, I know. What am I thinking? She’s perfect, she’d never go for someone like me,” he admits in quiet defeat. “It’s stupid of me to feel this way.”
“What? No way, that’s not true,” his friend insists encouragingly. “You’re a great guy! You just need to work on your romance game.”
“My what?” Zuko retorts skeptically.
“Your romance game! Look, if you want y/n to like you then you have to work your charm.”
“I don’t have any charm to work.”
“Sure you do, it’s easy! Take it from your old buddy Sokka, the ladies love me. Just follow my advice and by the end of the night y/n will be dying for you to ask her out!”
Zuko is skeptical of his friend’s words and hesitant to take Sokka’s offer of help, but he knows he’s hopeless on his own and there aren’t many other options. With a relenting sigh, Zuko gives his friend an agreeing nod.
“What should I do first?”
“Just follow my lead,” the boy says with a wink before loudly calling you and his sister over. Zuko does his best to mask his embarrassment and puts on his best attempt of a smile as you and Katara saunter over arm-in-arm.
“Hi, guys!” You greet cheerily. “King Kue really knows how to throw a party, doesn’t he?”
“He sure does! Say, that’s a really nice dress,” Sokka compliments before harshly elbowing Zuko’s side. “Don’t you agree, Zuko?”
“Uh, yes, it is,” he stammers nervously, his face immediately turning red. “You look very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a bashful smile. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Not at all,” he says earnestly. “You could never be too much.”
“You know, y/n, Zuko here was just telling me how much he wants to dance,” your friend informs you much to the Fire Lord’s dismay.
“What?! That’s not-“
“Oh, well, would you like to dance with me, Zuko?” You ask with a careful smile, delicately holding your hand out for him to take. His protests immediately die in his throat as he takes in your gentle features, the world almost seeming to come to a halt as he focuses on you before him. Your beauty almost physically pains him, and he wished he knew how to tell you this without coming off like a total creep.
Zuko hesitates before taking your hand, knowing that whatever happens next could alter your friendship forever, but the idea of physical touch is almost too tempting, and so he gently grabs hold of your hand and guides you back to the dance floor.
The musicians play a melody of traditional Earth Kingdom waltzes, and despite knowing nothing about dancing Zuko does his best to match your pace. His hands are suffocatingly warm against your skin, but you never once complain. You say nothing when he steps on your toes repeatedly or gets caught on your dress, and in spite of how awkward you both look compared to the other couples on the floor you seem to be having the most fun out of them all.
“You’re doing wonderful,” you encourage, giggling when he missteps and nearly trips over his own feet.
“I’m awful at this,” he argues exasperatedly. “I’m sorry you got stuck with such a lousy dance partner.”
“I don’t care about how good you can dance. I’m just happy you’re dancing with me,” you admit, looking away bashfully to hide your smile. “I haven’t really been able to speak to you much tonight, so I appreciate being with you now.”
Over your shoulder, Zuko spots Sokka from across the way. The water tribe boy waves his arms frantically and gestures for Zuko to make his move. The Fire Lord simply scowls before swallowing down his nerves and looking back to you.
“Y/n,” he calls faintly, gently guiding your face to look back up at him. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night, but it’s been hard. You’re so full of life, you draw people in with just your smile, and so I didn’t think I’d get the chance to finally be alone with you and tell you that- well, that I have feelings for you. I want to be the one that makes you smile, the one that dances with you at every party.”
“Zuko,” you murmur softly, taken aback by his confession. He takes your surprise as rejection and looks down with a dejected smile.
“I know, we’re friends. It’s strange of me to think we could be more, but I just needed to tell you.”
“No, that’s not it,” you quickly correct him, “I-I’m just surprised because I didn’t think you felt the same way I did.”
"You mean… you like me back?” Zuko asks in disbelief.
“Of course I do! What’s not to like?” You tease with a smile. “All night I was hoping you’d come up to me, and even though Katara said I should be the one to make the first move I was too scared to try. I’m glad you told me because I feel the same.”
You feel as if your heart could burst when he carefully tilts your chin up to meet your lips in a kiss. Ever since he joined your group you’d wanted nothing more than for him to see you as you saw him, and after months of what you thought was one-sided pining it seems Zuko has felt the same way about you all along. It took some time for things to come out in the open, but now that they are you couldn’t be any happier.
And unbeknownst to either of you, Katara and Sokka share high-fives behind your back in celebration of their successful plan.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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samodivaa · 4 months
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Lust looks pretty on you
Bucky x Reader : One Bed Trope. But he is your crush and his body is too close. He can't tell that you are masturbating, right...?
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Warnings - soft smut, masturbation Words - 2.5k AN - I want to make a filthy version as well, but this felt just right.
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Somehow you cannot help being reminded of a him, you look at him with compassion, sometimes with sympathy—though suddenly in one instant he becomes, as though by chance, lovely and exquisite, you can’t comprehend the power of those pensive eyes flashing with such fire—between the shadow and your soul, you love him, feelings can’t be repressed. But sometimes his eyes, his soft features burn with anguish and you grieve, in silence, that his beauty fades—your eyelashes glisten with tears Bucky never knows of.
When he comes close to you, there is already a gleam of a smile on your lips, faintly blushing and looking down.
“There is a room, but it has only one bed” he says uneasily. “I am okay with that” you say with an indescribable gesture, a gravest face, but your heart begins throbbing. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” Bucky speaks timidly in an ingratiating voice. “I assure you” you say in a whisper, full of affection, eyes beaming with delight as you take his human hand.
Finishing your answer, you pause pathetically, because there is an intense desire to force yourself to laugh, already feeling that a malignant demon is stirring inside, making you imagine curtain scenarios and suddenly there is a lump in your throat. You are always so tender, so solicitous with him—your soul is full with loving sympathy. “I can sleep on the floor-” Bucky begins in a plaintive voice, in which there lies a hope, though a very faint one and bends his head. “No, I would never allow that” He is looking at you intently, while a strange curiosity gleams in yours. Bucky stops, with his mouth open, because he can’t speak for delight as you continue to hold his hand. Your lips are quivering and you try to say something as well, but can only convulsively squeeze Bucky's hand in silence. You continue to look affectionately at him as a smile passes over his lips. “Okay” he brings out at last.
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When you enter the hotel room, you say tragically “Oh, the bed is small” Your eyes meet, he is gazing at you with a sort of wonder that evidently surprises you. Then, he tilts his head, his thin lips threatening to break into a smile
“But we will manage!” 
You say briskly, quick to add to the previous statement, and, indeed, on the mad idea that flashes on your giddy brain—you will take a long shower in the hopes that he will fall asleep. That position is desperate, but you are hot with shame, because he keeps staring at you, grasping at once that you might be up to some mischief. Bucky always does that—studies every gesture, every movement you make, listens to every vibration of your rich voice, but strange to say, as the result of all his observations tonight, he feels, mixed with a sweet and timid impression, a feeling of intense curiosity. It seems as though he is on the verge of uncovering the mystery of your unusual behavior. But with your masterly acting, trying to keep you together, the whole process goes on in you unconsciously as you approach the other side of the bed in wide steps after having closed the door behind and sit on the mattress. You have purposely chosen this solitary spot, your eyes facing the wall. “You go shower first, I want to call my mom” Bucky grows suddenly confused, and a faint trace of vexation is betrayed in his impatient movement and he is glad that you can’t see it, but he remains quiet, in his heart there is a sort of haunting worry—are you scared of sleeping next to him? Is it because of his nightmares? He is irritated, boiling with indignation and hate, towards himself, for it is the first time that he has felt like that in your presence. Feelings so coarsely handle him—he is reminded of what he truly is. 
The sound of running water echoes as he decides to go and turn the faucet on, adjusting it to a comforting warmth. Heaven. He winces as his back is met with hot water, swapping through his hair, through the curls and then running in streams down his shoulders, muscles protesting with each movement, but the warmth provides a reprieve from the ache that is a companion throughout the whole night. Bucky is analyzing the situation while he showers. His heart leaps and shudders when he exits the bathroom, but he is thankful that you are still talking on the phone so he lays on his side in despair and misery, hiding his face in the pillow, and is alternately feverish and shivery—he will make sure not to sleep, because his mind is too frightened by the the idea of scaring you with his nightmares, in his exhausted state all the emotions of the day come back to him in a rush. Whatever lies hidden in both your secret and behavior, he understands, but it causes moments of anguish of which he won’t forget. You longed to cheer him up, to relieve his anxiety if only by a glance, but when you see him sleeping, you tip-toe to the bathroom as Bucky lays with his eyes shut. When you come back into the room, his eyelashes quiver, but he controls himself and does not open his eyes. Was he that tired?  When you begin pulling up the quilt over you, shame or some other feeling drowns him, wishing to hide from this moment, but he can’t fall asleep so he persisted in lying in bed in silence as you obstinately pull the blanket higher and higher.
A terrible, awful weakness overcomes your senses, you try to lay with your eyes closed, because desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving and you can’t master your need for him—that realization leaves you rather embarrassed, and at once flush crimson. This feels all so humiliating, and then you make that blunder, a very important one—you think about pleasuring yourself. That’s just what makes you so ecstatic, that you have a presentiment.... and though it’s so dreadful, it’s all for the best. In fact, you believe nothing better could have happened, because this is once in a life's opportunity. Involuntarily, you find your eyes scouring the darkness, looking for the outline of his bulky body, but you can only feel the warmth radiating from it. You move your fingers slowly and strainedly, working your way down your torso and swallow when you reach your panties as your nipples harden, poking through your shirt. You swiftly pull your panties to the side, strings of your wetness part from your underwear and you realize—there is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You breathe meekly and squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, because you hate the notion of being reduced to pleasuring yourself merely because of his close proximity, an embarrassing, desperate thing to do, but even so you keep on gently touching yourself.
You begin sliding your index finger between the folds of your entrance, it makes you shiver and your mouth slightly hangs open, heat rushing to your puffy cheeks, eyes halfway shut. The magic that coils through your own touch leaves you breathless, and your back arches a bit into the sensation as a strange euphoria. You struggle slightly to stay motionless, the other hand trails down to your breasts to squeeze them slightly, purposely avoiding your nipples for now. You use the gathered wetness and press your finger firmly against your clit, making your thighs twitch. A sinner who sins boldly—but that makes you freeze. And yes, you have a sordid soul in many ways, but on the contrary, it is full of a fine feeling—of love for him. You are anxious, worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want —but what if that movement woke him up? What if he somehow knows?
You start to rub slow circles around your clit as you tilt your head to his side, taking a shallow breath in through your nose. You are so aware of your sin that you fully cherish it and your imagination is a wonderful thing, it allows for all manner of undiscoverable thoughts —will he rub your clit like that? Maybe he will eat you out and moan into your cunt as he devours it? The soft flesh of your inner thighs ripples just a little as your legs shake, even though you try to control it, your chest heaves up and down just by thinking about it. You knead violently at the flesh of your right breast, pinching and flicking at your own nipple as you stimulate yourself. Then something unexpected happens. He sneezes. “Sorry” he says quietly, distinctly. It feels like you are caught, tried, and condemned to death. “Bucky? Bless you” you talk with as much composure as you can. And he was not supposed to hear, because It's a horribly private moment, a vulnerable moment on your part and he should be sleeping.
“Are you—” begins Bucky, but pauses in confusion. “No-” you interrupt suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off your tongue while a deep blush suffuses your face. “Because I am” He is jerking off—? Well he was sliding across the painfully erect cock slowly through the fabric, making sure he didn't cum. His tone is so natural and respectful that you can't possibly suspect him of any insincerity. He feels instinctively that some such well-sounding humbug, brought out by him, will soothe your worries, and will be specially acceptable to you in such a delicate position. It is clear from his radiant face that he considers his words for the right ones in this moment, despite you not seeing his features in the darkness. Bucky gets up on his elbows, there is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive need, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state. His hard dick twitches and arousal trickles down his spine, because of his own confession. You feel him shift on the bed and he turns on the light on his nightstand. 
His eyes narrow until they have faint darkish glitter. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he stares at your face, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze. 
You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you turn to stare at his blue orbits—but you are fantasizing right now—which is utterly inappropriate for the part of your mind which wants to just hug Bucky all day long. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks innocently as he shamelessly stares—swallowing you whole. Slowly, you nod. He pushes off the blanket and your gaze drops to the outline of his cock, pushing up his heart into his throat—your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners. 
And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear and before you can even blink, he is on top of you, lips ghost over your earlobe. His hot mouth is breathing into your skin, your chest is pressed against his and he can feel the swell of your breasts through your shirt. You gasp as you feel his broad chest and toned abdomen holding you down as the hard bulge in his boxers rubs deliciously against your clothed pussy lips. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary—he kisses your neck, lips, cheeks, worships your skin, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat. He doesn't want just sex—he seeks passion. “Bucky-”
You keen between short breaths, between his gentle kisses as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. He rips your panties down with his metal hand and then reaches into his own to help his cock spring free. Drop of precum lands on your abdomen as he runs his thumb over the veins that run along the underside, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering the wetness before moving his fingers in front of your face. He gently rubs your lower lip, a finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. “God, baby girl” he growls in your ear as his fingers brush up your soaking cunt “You look so innocent yet you were mastrubating right next to me” he goes on as he runs the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting your slick. Your eyes are pinched shut, lips parted ever so slightly, panting softly, a rosy flush coloring your cheeks. If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, of his words, the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be—you are shameless, he thinks, swallowing the guttural groan that escapes him. You moan when he puts his fingers in his mouth, feverishly licking them, tasting you.
He is eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he runs back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. It is a slow, torturous process as your cunt stretches around him, accommodating his girth. Love is something he wants to nurture and grow, a connection that exists within each one of you—he has not missed a single one of your gestures, not one of the indications of your body and now it occurs to him that your eyes themselves have the color of love, they speak the language of both emotions and pleasure.
He breaks the intense eye contact to attack your neck, sucking and lightly biting on your weakest spot. Never have you been more aroused than, more needy as you continue to be relished by him by cock inside of you. "You are so bold sometimes. It's why I love you" he smiles against your hot skin, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find you. Whiny, stranded pleads leave your lips. His words are so sweet in comparison to the filthy trusts. His lips find yours as he feels you getting closer and he pushes you farther to the edge as he begins to fondle with your clit, your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. You clenching around him—shuddering against him, as an orgasm washes over his own body. Bucky lose himself in your eyes—in the vocabulary of them as the pleasure goes through your body. The words became unnecessary. He made you feel loved.
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sugurusbabygirl · 4 months
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their kinks
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Choso:
Choking
There's no better necklace than his big hand wrapped around your throat. He loves taking you from behind and gripping his digits along your windpipe. The way it makes you tighten around him, your moans turning into weakened, high pitched whimpers.
"Oh....that's it, baby. So fucking good." "Feel-ah-so tight." "Mmm, want it harder, right? Wanna see your fucking eyes roll back."
Kento:
Thigh Riding
It's your way of treating him. He's a busy man, after all. He revels in every minute, especially the way you truly believe you're in control. He rests his hands on your hips, squeezing whenever you make so much as a soft whimper. He'll lean up, careful not to disturb your flow, peppering kisses to the sweet spot in the crook of your neck.
"Sound so pretty." "Missed me that bad, hm? Can't event wait for me to take my jacket off." "I don't care how sensitive you are, love. Keep going."
Megumi:
Toys
Anything to please his baby girl. He insists, truly. Wants to learn new ways to get you shaking and moaning. So that's how you end up, head thrown back against the pillows, Megumi holding a suction toy to your clit and curling two fingers inside you. He barely speaks, not wanting to miss even the tiniest sound you make.
"Doin' so good, baby." "Getting close? Hold on a little longer, okay? Wanna keep lookin' at you like this."
Satoru:
Sensory Deprivation
You, his blindfold, a tie around your wrists. That's all he's asking for. It's not the idea of having you at his mercy, no, it's more the idea that you'll never know what he's doing next. To have you shivering as he runs his hands along your curves. Your sharp gasp when he grips the tie against the mattress harder with each thrust, smiling down at you (unbeknownst to your covered eyes).
"Sound so desperate, babe-ngh-fuck." "Wanna what? Touch me? Aw, baby but you look so good like this." "Mmm, think I wanna give you one more before I let you see me."
Suguru:
Domination
He loves giving orders, what can you expect? On your knees, head up, tongue out, you better do so with an enthusiastic 'yes sir'. He won't punish you....per say. But he won't hesitate to slow the snap of his hips if you don't answer his questions. Pull harder on your hair when all you can choke out are strangled moans.
"Use your words, darling. How am I supposed to know what you want?" "Fuck....that feel good? Tell me." "Open your mouth. I said, open. Ah-ah, good girl."
Sukuna:
Mirror Sex
It's not secret that his favorite way to fuck you is from behind. The only drawback is not being able to see your beautiful face as you come undone. So imagine his excitement when it finally dawns on him that he can drag you in front of the bathroom mirror, and bend you over the counter. He'll yank your head back when your eyes start to droop, watching closely as your heavy pants fog the reflection of your mouth. He's hooked.
"Fuck! Like seein' how I make you scream like that?" "Hey, hey, eyes on me, pretty girl. That's it, watch yourself."
Toji:
Public Sex
He just can't seem to get enough of you, no matter how much time you spend behind the privacy of your bedroom door. He loves teasing you out in public. Running his hands over your curves, grazing his fingers across your thighs, planting lingering kisses to your neck, all in the name of working you up. But his favorite way to tease you is sliding his fingers in an out of your slick cunt under the dining table. Nothing gets him smiling like watching you try to keep yourself together in front of your guests.
"Doin' so good, baby girl. Keep quiet and I might even let you cum." "Embarrassing? Nothin' to be embarrassed about if you keep up that 'good girl' act of yours."
Yuji:
Voyeurism
He claims we wants to learn what makes you feel good. He claims the only way is to watch you with your vibrator while he sits naked at the end of the bed. He almost can't believe his eyes, how sexy you are, this new view of you he suddenly has. Yuji loves the way you blush at his encouraging words, how embarrassed you get watching him pump himself to the sight of you.
"Mmm, keep going, y/n. Shit...." "Gonna make me cum just looking at you." "Oh my god-ah-I can't-ah-can't take it. Get over here, baby."
masterlist <3
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yuri-is-online · 3 months
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"The moon is beautiful tonight" bro if someone said that to me I'd choke 💀. So here's a request ig. Octavinnle and scarabia saying this phrase in casual conversation causes like. it doesn't mean anything in twst, but yuu doesnt know that. So yuu just looks at them like
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And suddenly they're being a hell of a lot more affectionate towards them specifically, which is really starting to fuck with their emotion at this point. Cause like. "I've thought of what we'd act like as a married couple a million times and you are acting exactly like that"
So now like, idk, 2 months later or something, the boys basically do a "reject me so I can move on. Or not, please not, actually"
And yuus like? We've been together for 2 months now? I thought we were taking it slow but not this slow??
He doesn't even fully remember what he said, or the context that brought it up. If someone were to offer him all the world's wealth and power he wouldn't be able to tell them what brought about this change.
If he did he might find it ironic that in your world there was a place and time where "I love you" could be translated into "the moon looks beautiful tonight." For what else could he have been trying to say?
I LOVE THIS TROPE I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH. UNREQUITED REQUITED ACCIDENTAL LOVE CONFESSION MY BELOVED. Anyway yeah sure I can do this easy. Also can someone tell me what "ig" means I am an elderly woman ☆ヽ(o_ _)o notes: they/them used for Yuu, angst with the intent of comfort, not all of them follow the flow of the prompt exactly sorry, idk if I like this one? I'm so sorry it took so long I loved this prompt but for some reason when I sat down to write it my brain fried. More fic can be found on my masterlist here.
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Azul
What He Says:
You can't actually see the moon from Octavinelle, so how the conversation topic got around to it is quite lost on you. "You just don't really seem like an astrology h- person to me?" It is all you can do to bite back a different description as you try to pretend your focus is on the silverware you are rolling and not the ever so slightly disheveled octomer across the office. You treasure these times, though you have to wonder just how intentional they are. Azul always has an aura of manufactured perfection around him, so to see him with ink stained hands and a crooked tie... you wish you were quick enough to get a picture with something other than your mind's eye.
"I could say the same about you," he smiles as he speaks in a way you want to believe is affectionate "though I suppose it shouldn't, every planet large enough to host life will have a moon." Your fingers fidget with the napkins as you wonder where to take this talk, talking with Azul is a lot like a dance at a masquerade you haven't been invited to. One small slip and he has you at his mercy.
"I was surprised your moon looks so similar to mine." You try. "It was very comforting to know it still represents my deepest, truest self."
"Then it must look beautiful tonight." Azul says softly, as if he is more testing the words in his mind than he is saying them. But still you startle and drop the silverware and make him jump.
"I'm sorry?" You stumble over yourself to pick it up and see a worried Azul standing in front of you.
"I said the moon must look beautiful tonight." He says as he bends to help, so casually that he has to call out to you again to make you realize this isn't a dream.
"It is." You pull yourself up and stand closer to him than you have ever previously dared.
When He Breaks (Two Months Later):
Ramshackle Prefect: Morning Azul ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Azul stares at his phone as if he is unused to the words on his screen. His thumb hovers over the heart as if he could reach out and touch what sits on the other side and know.
You: Morning, a bit early for you isn't it?
Not that he is upset exactly, this is a lovely thing to wake up to. But it's torture, pure torture to lack the context for any of this. When you started messaging him in the morning he had been too pleased to think critically. His mind conjures up images of how sweet you could sound when half asleep, what it would be like to hear that wish from you every morning out loud instead of on a screen. He shakes his head trying to blink back the tears as he rises, these thoughts are like one of those mirages he'd heard Jamil describe before. If he looked too hard it would disappear and leave him with nothing but sand, and there is nothing a merfolk fears more than the absence of water.
Ramshackle Prefect: (。•̀ᴗ-) Ramshackle Prefect: hehe im goin back to sleep now. Ramshackle Prefect: dont overwork urself. it's supposed to be the weekend!!!
"Supposed to be the weekend" he wants to die. His heart hammers away at his chest as reads and re-reads his messages searching for a sign of how or why he is getting these messages. It's a thankless task, he's done this every day for... it feels like years but he knows from his carefully kept notes it's only been two months one week and three days. And he does mean notes, so what if he's taken to keeping Yuu's file in his night stand it's still kept in a file which means it isn't a diary. Not that it would be a problem if he did-
Ramshackle Prefect: oh before I forget is it ok if I stop by the lounge later? I tried making a pudding and want to know if it tastes good Ramshackle Prefect: y'know to people who don't eat literal dirt
-so no he wasn't keeping a diary but maybe Jade is on to something and he should really start because he hears those are good for managing stress.
~~~~
"Not that I am unimpressed with your efforts," is what Azul says out loud with a great deal of effort "but is it just me or have you been trying to cook a lot more lately?" It had started with little sandwiches and maybe a salad on days he was still at work late into the night, dropped off with the claim that Yuu was worried he wasn't taking care of himself but they never actually stayed to watch him eat it. This was new, as if they were testing the waters of something from their position on his couch, face still puffy with sleep as they settle themselves deep into its puffy cushions and watch him at his desk. Maybe they were concerned he would not want a desert and intended to stay and make sure he didn't throw it out. That had to be it, but then why visit dressed so casually? He can count on one hand the times he has seen Yuu out of an NRC uniform, and none of those allowed him a glimpse of their actual preferences in clothing.
It's like they've forgotten who they are dealing with.
"Well yeah, it's a good skill to have." Yuu looks at him with a genuine unguarded smile. "Besides it's fun to get your opinions on my food, I don't always understand how you come up with them but I feel like it helps."
"My I didn't realize you held my advice in such high esteem." He feels much more like himself now with this information. Of course Yuu has been messaging him more, they need him for something. It might sting, but it's safe. Logical. Something he can work with. "Maybe I'll just have to start charging you, can't have you taking my secrets and stealing away my customers, can I."
But for some reason this just makes you laugh. "No need to worry about that, I only really cook for you. And Grim I guess but like I said, he literally eats dirt. I mean just the other day-
"What did you say?" Azul's voice sounds strained.
"About Grim eating dirt?" You say, and Azul finally for someone so smart and so proud on his ability to read people thinks that he might have made a mistake. "He says he's making a tier list."
"Why are you so painfully human?" His smile is strange, you can't say you have ever seen him like this before, it's a strange mix of happiness and resignation. "Your heart is so- prefect do you trust me?"
"Yes." You answer, seemingly confused as if your answer to that question shouldn't have been something he doubted.
"Would you trust me with your life? Your secrets?" He makes his way out from behind his desk to stand above you, to look down at you and confirm that for some damnable reason you are still calm. "Would you trust me with your life?"
"...only if you wanted it." Finally he sees a trace of fluster in you, finally you feel as nervous around him as he does around you constantly. He places a finger under your chin and forces you to look at him.
"Then tell me how you feel about me truthfully. Because everything you have said and done up to this point has been driving me crazy into thinking I have a chance." You blink. Once. Twice. And then a look of pure confusion distorts your perfect face.
"You- you don't know? But I thought- I mean you said-" And then suddenly Yuu has managed to jump out from the couch and the intensity of the moment stutters closer to comedy as Azul watches you curl under his desk like it's an octopot. "You said the moon was beautiful."
It's Azul's turn to blink. Once. Twice. He feels like he should be holding back tears, or disappointed in some way but- "I did say that... but what does that have to do with, anything?" You don't move and Azul considers his options, and decides to walk slowly to his desk and pick up the pudding before settling himself just out of sight from where you are hiding. And he waits, he waits for you to speak like his hands aren't clammy and he is not worried at all about what you might have to say.
"In my world when you say that it means something." You sound so small and alone, but still he waits. "I was really happy to hear you say it, but I didn't think... no I just didn't think. I'm so so so sorry."
"What did you think I said?" His mind is racing with the possibilities, but he has an idea because really what else could he have said that would explain all of this behavior?
"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing." You sound close to tears and Azul can't have that now can he? He crouches down to look at you curled under his desk and thinks that Floyd must have been wrong when he called you a shrimp, how could you be anything other than another octopus, waiting for someone who understood them too?
"As embarrassing as saying it again?" He doesn't wait for you to reply. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." He watches your breath hitch in delight as he fully invades your space and whispers what it looks like he should have just said all along. "I love you."
And gets to hear the one thing he has wanted most. "I love you too."
Jade
What He Says:
"And that is the Hero constellation." Jade makes sure to keep his hand as close to you as plausible, resting the back of it against yours as he uses his pencil to point at the star chart you are examining to avoid having to move it away from your addictive warmth. He delights in the way you try to suppress your shudders yet make no move to shake him off, what a dangerous game it is you have decided to play tonight. "Named after the Hero who dove into the underworld to fetch back his beloved from death itself."
"It looks familiar." You swallow and try to focus on the stars, Jade had been kind enough to offer you some "opinions" (because help would cost you and he has no intention to charge yet) when he saw you struggling to read your astrology homework. "But I don't think it was as important to astrology back in my world..."
"Oya? Your world also values the guidance of the stars?" Jade is always hard to read, but even more so in the dark. Something to do with his natural habitat you suppose, not that you are excited about the potential he sees you as some sort of prey. Not that you couldn't be if you knew just what sort.
"Well yeah sometimes. But I think it has more to do with the zodiac constellations and the position of the planets." You smile and hope this little bit of information is enough for Jade to take as payment instead of a favor but he simply hums.
"Yes I do seem to recall you saying something like that." He says with a smile and you desperately wrack your brain for how he could know that when you know damn well it wasn't to him.
You were only sort of right, he had been there, just out of sight listening intently as you described the differences in the mythological origins of the various signs and their importance in match making.
"Only in some cultures Ace!"
But you had made no mention of whether or not that culture was yours, which was all Jade really cared about. Not that he placed much interest or faith in the stars but if you did that was important data. But no matter how carefully he tried to poke the only thing you ever seemed to really like talking about was the moon. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." Jade says, bitterly, head full with ideas that he wants to give but cannot without overplaying his hand. And yet-
"Do you mean that?" He turns his head abruptly, blinking in confusion down at your flustered self. Jade knows right away that he has said something without meaning to, your reaction screams it but just this once- no he is always selfish when it comes to you. So in keeping with his habits, he drops the pencil and folds his hand around yours properly.
"Every word." It is all he can do to keep his teeth from showing as he watches you fold into him. Normally when Jade offers to walk you home you make up an excuse or outright decline, but when he offers tonight you are happy to accept. You even let him help you pick up your things and when he decides to push his luck and ask for your hand-
You let him take it. His brain is fried, the only thing he can think of and feel is the texture of your skin and the weight of your fingers intertwined with his. Neither of you speak on the way back to Ramshackle, Jade barely hears himself whispering you a goodnight as he swears you stare at his lips in the same way he always dreams of yours.
His mind works overtime as he walks back to his dorm, thinking and re-thinking his words and wondering if he has reached the right conclusion. Data, he needs more data on this change. You have let him get close to what he wants in moments of weakness before, but you have never let him touch and as much as he wants to throw himself into you and be consumed with his assumptions...
When He Breaks (3 months later):
He is long past collecting data at this point, he is just being a coward. Jade is fairly certain that Yuu is courting him... but that pesky doubt keeps creeping back in the longer he looks at them. Not that Jade is unfamiliar with doubting himself, or waiting to strike but you...
"Are you alright, Jade?" You're laid across his lap without a care in the world watching that damn moon again, completely unaware of him unraveling beneath you. "You've been spacing out a lot lately."
"I've just had a lot on my mind~" He caresses the side of your face and you let him, you even whine a bit when he retracts it and speed up his heart rate just enough to make him hyper conscious of his breaths. "Can I ask you something?"
"Technically you already have." You squirm to try and dodge his flick but don't seem too fussed by it. "But sure, what's bothering you?"
"Do you hate me?"
"What?" Oh that look of shock on your face is precious he hasn't seen it in a while. Slowly, giving you just enough space to run if you want Jade bends towards you, smiling wide and tootful as he repeats the question.
"I was wondering if you hate me dear Prefect. Because you see," he sniffles and tries to pretend he doesn't hear you groan in exasperation "our relationship these past few months has been nothing but pure torture for my poor self."
"Oh has it now." You don't sound like you believe him how tragic. "I didn't realize I was such bad company."
"Oh the worst sort." He whimpers. "The sort of company that takes advantage of the thin lines between you and does all sort of things to your poor heart."
"... thin lines?" Finally. FINNALY. You sound just as worried as he's been these past three months. He ceases his blubbering and looks at your embarrassed face properly. It's adorable, he'll have to ask for your forgiveness later for his lengthy pause admiring it later.
"Please be truthful." He whispers just a tad lower than is necessary. "And be gentle with me in your rejections so I can move on if I must but first-"
"We're not dating?!?!?" How rude you don't let him finish before you interrupt and try to run away. His long arms interrupt your retreat, pulling you down with peels of laughter (from him it's clear you don't find this funny) as he rolls you onto the grass, pinned directly beneath him. You look good like this, eyes focused entirely on him and no longer pining after the moon.
"There seems to have been a misunderstanding." He says and you try your best to glare threateningly up at him. "I can't quite remember anything I might have done to make you think we were together. Was it something I said?"
"You said... I'm so stupid."
"I don't seem to recall ever having said that outloud." You try to knee him in the groin but he pins your leg down with his own, such useful things though a tail would have made this entire confrontation much more efficient.
"Of course it doesn't mean the same thing. This is a different world." You look genuinely distraught, and though Jade doesn't regret his teasing one bit he doesn't want to keep you in suspense much longer. So he bends his face directly next to your ear and whispers.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Your breath hitches and Jade rolls to his side, pulling you up onto his chest before you can go back to being angry at him. "You're right, it doesn't mean whatever you think it should here. After all if I wanted to say how I feel about you I wouldn't use a metaphor."
"And just what would you say about me?" You sound so impossibly small, just as in need of reassurance as he had been just mere moments ago.
"I would say that I love you, of course." It's hard to say out loud, but worth the reward of your warmth settling into him once more, with clarity this time and no need for cowardice.
Floyd
What He Says:
Floyd has been in a strange mood lately, not quite bad, not quite good, and yet somehow very clearly not somewhere in between either. Reflective is the word you would choose yourself, but no one is really asking your opinion they just want you to fix it.
Not that you have any real clue how you are going to do that, you will be the first to admit you didn't have much of a plan when you asked if Floyd wanted to climb up to Ramshackle's roof and shoot the breeze. Not that you are really complaining it had been funny watching him try to figure out the climb.
"I though you were supposed to be good at this." You laugh from your perch waving a bag of flavored potato chips in encouragement as Floyd snorts just below you.
"I'm real good at parkour, just haven't really climbed trees before. I ain't a monkey fish." Still he manages to hoist himself up just fine and plop himself next to you with a thud that reminds you of just how much weight there is to him. He's tall and lean, his figure seems to go on forever as he stretches himself out next to you, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a breath and holds out a hand for a chip.
You stuff it into his mouth and try not to laugh too hard when he chokes. He spits some of the chip shards back at you and tries not to smile too wide when you sputter and whine about how gross he is for spitting on you.
"Ya do this a lot back home?" It's not the first time Floyd has asked about your world, but it is certainly the most random.
"We've got stars in my world too." You snort, trying to think about just how you are going to turn this conversation around into something more cheerful. "But nah, pretty sure someone would have called the cops if they caught me on the roof at 2 am." Floyd rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his arm to really look at you as you look through your grocery bag of loot deciding which of the drinks you brought up you want to drink.
"I meant invite people to hang out real late." You stop your search to look down at him and find your words caught somewhere between your heart and your throat. Not like this. You want to say. Not for this reason. But instead you shrug and try to offer a bottle he doesn't take. You aren't avoiding the question tonight. "Ya gotta have done something for fun, right?"
"Sometimes I'd walk around a store or something." It's weird explaining stuff to a merman, sometimes they get what you're trying to say but other times they come back with "so it's like that time Jade and I got caught chasing a dolphin around the school playground and got yelled at for tying him up in seaweed" and you just have to smile and say "yeah totally" because what the hell. You're pretty sure it's not but you lack all sorts of context to try and make him understand. "Or we'd sneak out and just drive around and talk about stuff. There's- not a bunch of exciting things I know how to do I guess." If this was a normal night Floyd would roll his eyes and lie back down, whine about that's why you always make him do all the work because shrimpies have shit for brains and his plans are always so much better.
But he doesn't. He reaches over and tugs on your leg, gently enough that you can run away if you want but clear in his desire to have you closer. So you move, expecting his hand to drop but it doesn't, not until he settles his head in your lap and he physically can't keep it there anymore.
"Ya ever talk about things that matter with those guppies?" Maybe he's homesick and that's why he's so focused on this. "Things that make ya miss them?" Maybe he's just projecting that onto you since he knows you will listen and be nice about it. But then his hand reaches up and turns your head so you can look him in his eyes.  They're glowing, you barely realize your own hand going to cup Floyd's cheek before he moves his other to keep it from going.  "You ever miss one of em in particular?"
"Not really."  How could you when Floyd looks like this?  "It'd be nice to see my friends again, sure, but it's not like there's one specific person I miss."  Floyd lets out a breath that it sounds like he has been keeping in for a long, long time.  His hands both fall to his side as he lets you look away in embarrassment, wiggling in slight happiness when you choose to rest your hands on his shoulders.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Floyd's voice sounds sleepy and oddly content.  Your eyes immediately snap back to him, but he isn't looking at you now. There is a a slight red tinge to his ears that makes you laugh quietly as you run a finger over the shell of one.  So that's what this is about.
"It's always beautiful with you around Floyd."  And finally he is looking at you with a smile.
When He Breaks (2 weeks later):
When you gave Floyd a guest key to Ramshackle he'd been extremely happy. Sure he'd acted like it was no big deal in front of you, beyond a few teasing comments about how buttering him up wouldn't get you anywhere unless you put it in writing. But back at his dorm he had been beyond insufferable, obsessing over just what color thread he should attach to it (purple for the sea witch, teal for the eel, or grey for ramshackle? decisions decisions), wanting to keep it close at all times until he had an excuse to replace it with you.
Because that's what he needed right? An excuse? Floyd wasn't exactly... shy in showering you with his affections but you. You. Until that stupid conversation on the roof a month ago you had always been sort of shy about it, if not outright dismissive. He assumed it was because you just didn't reciprocate but now...
"Floyd?" You can't really remember the last time he knocked, even before you gave him the key he sort of just let himself in. But today he knocked, only once and waited for you to open the door in eerie silence. Even when Floyd was coming over because he was bored he still managed to drag himself through the door or a window if he was so inclined.
So why not today?
"Not having a good day?" You try softly, he walks into your lounge with an eerie quiet about him. The last time you saw him something very nice happened, so you can't exactly say you are too worried but. It still sucks to see someone you care about in distress.
"Kinda." Floyd doesn't look like he had much of a plan now that he's in your dorm. "Had a lot on my mind is all."
"Aw that's no fun." You both stand doing nothing for what feels like an hour but you're sure is only a few seconds. "Do you uh want to talk about it?"
"..." And just like that Floyd feels really silly. He wanted to see you so that's why he came, but he wants to be as far away from these painful feelings as possible. "I kind of want to take a nap."
"Oh?" You don't sound surprised, but are clearly confused. Floyd begins to head towards the guest room without looking back. The guest room feels like you just enough that it can soothe his longing and distance himself from his internal conflict. "Would you like to use my room?" Or he could just not be allowed to distance himself at all because you could just say- "I've got some stuff to do but I can join you af-"
"Are you fucking serious." Floyd's voice is dangerously low and he is dangerously close to your face like you have said something wrong. "Look Shrimpy-" He swallows, like he's really considering what it is he has to say so he breathes and just goes for it "Yuu. You're killin me with this. Humans are already so fucking confusing. I give ya a shell and you get all cold for a week, and now, now you wanna sleep with me?" He pouts at you, like your suggestion had been scandalous. "'s like you think we're together or something."
"... we're not?" That's the only thing you can think to say even though the fact you have to say it answers the question for you.
"No?" Now Floyd sounds confused. "Ya- you can't do this to meeeeeeee." Despite his protests he seems just fine with grabbing onto you and dragging you into an embrace and resting his cheek on your head so you can't see his face anymore. "There's supposed to be a process to these things ya know? I'm supposed to give you gifts, and then you're supposed to give me some back and then I tell you I love you but every time I tried that I said something stupid instead. Like 'oh wow the moon looks beautiful tonight or some shit." He huffs and he puffs and he waits for you to say something. But you don't, you take a deep breath.
And laugh.
"Is this fucking funny to you?" Floyd is taken so a back he lets go of you only to find you laughing harder. You stand and reach to cup his face. Floyd doesn't like being squeezed, but there's something about the light squish you give to his cheeks that he likes, he likes a lot.
"No- well maybe a little bit. It's just, I knew. I knew what you were trying to say." Yuu says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world, like it's something Floyd should have known all along. "I owe you an apology, I should have asked, made sure you knew. In my world, it's sometimes considered too forward to say 'I love you' so instead..." You close the distance between you once more, leaving just enough room that Floyd can back away from you if he wants, "instead we say 'the moon looks beautiful tonight.'" Floyd takes in a deep, deep breath and you wait. The anger and frustration slowly fades as he exhales, shoulders sagging as he searches your face for signs.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He says it slowly, voice dipping low with the same strange gravity it had the first time he said it.
"It does, doesn't it?" You smile, and Floyd finally reaches for you, arms wrapped much more loosely than you ever thought possible.
"You're really mean sometimes ya know that." As if he doesn't find that attractive.
Kalim
What He Says:
Sometimes you worry about Kalim. He has this way of talking about things that, if it had been anyone else who said it, should be a major cause for concern. But because Kalim seems relatively happy most all of the time and has a family with a bunch of money no one really makes much of a fuss about it.
So when he says, off handedly, completely as a joke, that you should listen to his worries sometimes you don't give him a chance to play it off. You sit up from where you had been lying down in the Scarabia Lounge and move just a bit closer to where Kalim is relaxing so he can see how serious you are.
"Of course you can talk to me if you have worries." Your voice must have been abnormally serious because Kalim doesn't respond immediately. At first you wonder if the noise of the party behind you had somehow drowned out what you said but then you see Kalim's face. He looks conflicted, as if there is something he desperately wants to say, but instead he looks at you with a smile.
"I don't really have any." But he doesn't laugh when he says it, not that he sounds unhappy exactly just thoughtful. He doesn't move away from you either.
"Even if it's something you think might be silly," you say slowly forcing yourself to continue even as Kalim looks away "of if you're able to dismiss them. If something makes you sad for even a moment, you can tell me. I won't offer my opinion if that's not something you want, or won't help, I can still listen."
"You're really insistent about this huh?" Kalim sits up now too and you turn to look up at the stars decorating Scarabia's night sky. You wonder briefly about how exactly they might have gotten that to work when he says it. "The moon is beautiful tonight." He sounds so wistful but it's gone in a blink as he reaches for your hand and doesn't let you respond to his admission. "C'mon! Let's take the magic carpet and get a better look." You try to contain your excitement as he lets you lace your fingers together and doesn't even try to let go.
What He Breaks (1 week later):
Technically, Kalim isn't the one who breaks. He notices, of course he notices, the way you are more comfortable in seeking him out. How comfortable you now are with his casual touches, how willing you are to hold his hand and even give it a little squeeze. It's heaven, like he found the treasure cave the Sorcerer of the Sands had searched so long for. If it was up to him he would have let it go a little longer.
But it isn't exactly up to him, it never is. Not that Jamil looks angry exactly, but then again as Kalim has come to accept he's not the best at reading his moods.
"I thought you said you weren't going to ask Yuu out?" No Jamil sounds confused and Kalim fidgets with his bracelet under his questioning stare because he knows what he's about to say will probably actually make him mad.
"I didn't." Jamil takes a deep breath and Kalim immediately waves his hands to try and soothe him. "Promise! I remember everything you said about wanting to know and I agree it's just... are you sure you aren't misreading things? That Yuu isn't just... comfortable around me now?"
"... it's always a possibility given just how weird the prefect can be, but no. I'm pretty sure you must have said something that's given them the wrong impression." Jamil sighs and rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It's going to be awkward, but you should probably clear things up with them and tell them how you really feel."
"You mean tell them I'm not allowed to-"
"Like I said before," Jamil actually smiles now, and Kalim really hopes it's real "it's not my place to tell you who you can and cannot date. Sure your parents might have an idea about what they want you to do, but you and I know that a political marrige would never really work for you. It's just not how you're built." And with that he leaves Kalim to his thoughts.
~~~~
"Have you ever considered throwing smaller parties?"
"Haha this is a smaller party~ I only invited you and your freshmen friends." So Kalim says and so you see, but you suppose everything Kalim does comes from a rather skewed sense of small. It's nice to look out on though, Ace is amusing one of your other classmates with his card tricks while Jack and Deuce take turns at arm wrestling. Epel even manged to get Sebek to participate in something, though he might have regretted making it an eating contest. And above it all, tucked away in a little alcove, Kalim rests his head on your shoulder and hums along with the music playing through his dormitory loudspeakers. It feels domestic in a way despite the grandiose display around you.
"It's very nice Kalim." You lean your head on top of his and he sighs in contentment. "But you said there was a worry you wanted to tell me about?"
"Mhm. I'm worried I said something accidentally that made you realize that I liked you." If he wasn't holding you so intimately his words would have been like ice water over your self confidence. You still cringe and Kalim laughs slightly, happily holding you just a bit closer. "Hey I didn't say that I don't like you, I just want to make sure you understand what that means. I could put you in a lot of danger you know?"
"More than half a dozen overblots?" You lightly joke but Kalim just hugs you a little harder at the thought. "We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, it doesn't make me love you any less. After all," you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and smile as he shakes in happiness "the moon looks beautiful tonight." Kalim gives a little gasp.
"Oh that's a wonderful way to say it!"
Jamil
What He Says:
"I get that your world is a bit behind ours because it doesn't have magic, but really?"  Jamil's voice lacks the usual venom that would accompany his teasing if he hadn't been the one to propose this idea.  "Wanting to make a mix tape has got to make you practically per-historic."   You try to suppress your own smile as you watch him work from across the floor.
"I prefer vintage."  Your smile breaks free as Jamil finally laughs, you wonder if he knows just how beautiful he is as he swipes a misbehaving hair out of his eyes and gives his stereo another once over.  "I'll have you know making mixtapes have a long and storied tradition in my world."  You keep some of the possible implications to yourself, and try to pretend the concept hasn't been swirling around in you brain since he first suggested this.  "Why aren't you using magic to clean it?"
"Because I get to keep you here longer."  The words dance on the tip of his tongue and he forces them away with a smile.
"It's old, and I don't really want to go searching for a new one if I break something."  The lie has just enough of a trace of truth to fool you, but Jamil isn't one for taking chances.  "Aren't you supposed to be looking for stuff you like?  You won't get that by staring at me."
"Not like I'm going to find anything till your done cleaning."  You snort and finally take your distracting eyes away from him and direct them to his tapes.  "I don't know any of this stuff."  But you can still tell this collection is pretty impressive.  Some of the tapes look newer, but there are others that while well cared for are clearly old.  Album art featuring sandy landscapes and people posing is sandwiched between vaporwave cartoons and aesthetically confusing 3-d models.  This belongs to Jamil so you have a feeling it's organized, but you can't tell how.  Not that he leaves you wondering for long lightly taps your nose with a new cotton swab and nudges your pouting face towards a specific section of the box.
"Here, I set some aside based off the kind of music you said you liked."  And some that just reminded him of you, but that's nothing you need to know, yet if ever.  "Anything else you can think of?"
"Do you have any songs about the moon?"  The question pops out of your mouth before the thought that birthed it is fully formed, making you stumble over your explanations.   "Yeah go ahead and laugh there's just... this one song I miss."  It makes you think of him, from the few words you can remember.  You've written it down again and again to try and make sure you don't forget them, but the tune has begun escaping you; much like all your memories of home will one day be fragmented, not that the reality makes it hurt any less.  "I'm worried I'll forget what my moon looks like."  Jamil's amused confusion remains, but his eyes soften in response to your distress.
"Is there a specific reason you need the song?  Yo- The moon is beautiful tonight, do you need the exact song to see it?"  Jami
"N-no."  Your voice shakes.  Neither of you move to look away, what gives you the strength to move yourself to sit next to him you don't know.  But he doesn't move away and you let out a deep breath from sheer and relief and joy.  "I think I'll be able to see it just fine next to you."
What He Breaks (two months later):
Things have been going missing from Jamil's room lately. Nothing he actually needs really, the sort of little things you would take if you were really desperate to remember the feel of a person. The sort of things you would take if you were dating that person, which isn't at all the thought he would have had if he didn't know who was taking them. Not that Jamil could come up with a reason for Yuu to be taking these things, his first thought had been to take something of Yuu's the next time he visited Ramshackle, but that seemed to make you happy. "Fair game" he'd thought. "I want an excuse to see you and you want an excuse to see me."
Still he wasn't prepared for this.
"Jamil!" there is something refreshing about how calm your happiness is. You've always had a way of extending that calm to him, wrapping him in it and allowing him some space to breathe. But today, today. Today the Ramshackle Prefect has decided that he wasn't allowed peace, because yesterday they had stolen his sweatshirt, and today they have decided to wear it. "Everything ok?
"ha." Jamil wants to tug the hood of his dorm uniform over his head. He wants to run, he wants to shake you, he wants to scream. He wants to do a three act play complete with an interpretive dance because that would be easier than trying to speak. But he has to, because there's only so many deep breaths he can take before you reach out to make sure he's ok. So he takes your hand in his as you do and places it directly over his heart. "You know," for some reason he finds it easier to smile now that you know how nervous he is "you can't have taken that without knowing what people might say."
"Oh I don't know." You smile and bring yourself into his space, that strange calm he finds in your happiness begins to weave itself around him again. "Maybe I wanted to clear some things up. Make it good and clear where I belong." Jamil takes another deep breath, your arms go around him and he makes sure to look long and good into your eyes to make sure there isn't a shred of a crimson glow. That this is something you have decided of your own free will and not a dream or an accident involving magic.
"I never properly asked you out..." Technically he never asked you out at all, but Jamil would rather die than say that out loud. Maybe sometime long long in the future when he's ready to laugh at it and not now when he needs you to confirm that's what you thought he did in the first place.
"Oh! That's not-" You bury your face in his chest with a light laugh and he tries not to die in the time between the seconds until you respond. "I was so happy to hear you say the moon line it didn't really occur to me you might be worried about that."
"Who wouldn't?" Not that he's worried now, every other possibility has been ruled out so he can say exactly what he's been wanting to for so long. "Will you be mine?"
"I already was." It sounds so much better outloud than he could have ever dreamed.
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
Text
Ace: Serious question. How did MC win you all over?
Deuce: *nods* We are really curious!
Epel: Yes! Please enlighten us, Mammon-sir!
Levi: 'Sir'?
Mammon: Ha! Be jealous, Levi. These are my minions.
Levi: *rolls his eyes*
Barbatos: If you want answers, it's better to ask the point of view of the outsiders.
Simeon: Um... Outsiders?
Solomon: We're not outsiders, Barbatos.
Lucifer: Answer his question then, Barbatos.
Barbatos: ...
Luke: I'll answer that question because I'm sure these demons will try to bend the truth!
Luke: All of these demons, except Barbatos-
Belphie: Don't exempt your father-figure.
Luke: H-He's not my father figure! *clears throat* All these demons tried to corrupt MC, but they all failed! *beams* MC is a strong human! And, and! They are loved by all creatures!
Satan: Except some of us tried to kill them first.
Beel: Raise the hands of those who never hurt them. *puts his hand up*
Mammon: *joining him*
Ace: I- Bruh.
Epel: MC is the embodiment of 'I can fix you.' Literally.
Deuce: *nods in agreement*
Belphie: Well... You could say that they're really unique. Or maybe because they're a distant descendant of our dead sister Lilith.
Ace: What did you say?
Epel: So all of you are-
Simeon: No. I assure you, that isn't the case at all.
Ace: But that's wild, man.
Solomon: *chuckles* Right? That's why no one should ever underestimate MC.
Lucifer: Speaking of them, where are they?
Solomon: They're together with Asmo and Vil. They mentioned visiting a spa place.
Lucifer: I see.
Barbatos: Disappointed they didn't invite you?
Lucifer: Don't be ridiculous, Barbatos.
Diavolo: I am disappointed they didn't invite me.
Lucifer: ...
Vil: Potato, why are you the one massaging Asmodeus?
Asmo: This is our bond, hun~ And it's been a while since MC touched my body like this~.
Vil: *frowns* They are here to relax.
Asmo: I'll give them a massage too later~. Right, darling~?
Vil: ...
MC: Haha, maybe next time when it's just the two of us.
Asmo: Kyaa~! Does that mean you want us to do more~?
Vil: *cringes* Potato, I can't believe you love someone like him.
MC: *chuckles* Well, no one can resist Asmo.
Asmo: That's right~. Since I'm the prettiest in every realm~. No one can compare to my beauty~.
Vil: Excuse me? You are forgetting that I exist.
Asmo: No offense, hun. But you don't hold a candle to me.
Vil: ...
Vil: *smirks* I'm sure Potato will disagree on that.
Asmo: What?
MC: ...
MC: I'm just an ugly person, don't include me in this.
MC: *sigh* *just got home after they managed to stop Vil and Asmo from fighting*
Leona: You look exhausted, Herbivore.
MC: Yeah.
Leona: ...
Leona: *smirks* Want us to cuddle with you?
MC: Huh?
Belphie: *shows up, already sitting next to MC* You need some rest. Let us take care of you.
MC: ...
MC: I'm not surprised if you're going to do that for me, Belphie. But Leona?
Leona: Hey, we're friends.
MC: ...
MC: Fine. I'll accept that excuse for now.
788 notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 11 months
Text
banana medicine
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summary - you are a fan in the audience for the night
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
word count: -1k
Harry tugs on his microphone as he walks back and forth across the front stage.
“Now…” He says and immediately the crowd screams just from the one word.
“Hello!” He says, leaning down to wave at a fan in Johnny’s Place. “What’s your name? Farah? Lovely name, lovely name. How are you doing tonight, Farah? Amazing. How am I? I’m feeling wonderful, thank you.”
Harry stands back up and starts walking again.
“Now, Y/N is somewhere in the audience tonight.” He lifts his hand up in the air to speak as his other one clutches his microphone.
The stadium went wild as he mentioned your name, since everyone absolutely adored you. Everything from your mannerisms and personality, down to your sheer beauty had every single one of his fans in love with you too.
The stadium went wild as he mentioned your name, since everyone absolutely adored you. Everything from your mannerisms and personality, down to your sheer beauty had every single one of his fans in love with you too.
“She said she’d dress up in fancy dress tonight, but now I need your help to find her.” He points to all of the crowd. “She went rogue and decided not to tell me where she’s going to be, so we need everyone’s help to find her.”
Whilst Harry was on stage, covering a hand just above his eyes so he could see better, you were in the front standing crowd dressed as a banana.
You took off your sunglasses and people around you started to notice you, even with the costume on. People gasped and some people immediately set their cameras on you because this was such a big deal for them. You laughed when people started to chant that you were over here.
Harry walked in the opposite direction as people started to claim you were over there.
“You, sir, are not my girlfriend.” Harry laughed into the microphone when a man claimed to be you.
The screams from your section were getting louder. Harry must have noticed because he started to wander over. He ditches his wired microphone and collects a wireless one instead.
Suddenly the camera man finds you within the crowd and your face appears on the big screen. The crowd cheers even louder and you have to laugh at how ridiculous you look. Especially 4x bigger.
Harry’s head turns quickly to see the screen and his face completely lights up when he sees you, clad in a banana outfit, before bending over from laughing too hard. The reaction would go viral on social media later for how lovesick he is for you.
“Just need to find a banana in the crowd.” He laughs into the microphone and his dimples come out in full force.
He walks closer to you and people use their hands to point at you as well as screaming too. You watch him scan the crowd and then meet your eyes almost instantly.
Even within a crowd of thousands, he could still spot you. Or maybe it’s just because you’re wearing a banana outfit.
“Hi.” Harry says into his microphone and waves at you.
Every fan surrounding you waves and tries to get his attention, but unfortunately for them he is solely focused on you.
You smile back at him, being too far back for him to actually hear you.
“You good?” He asks, holding a thumbs up.
You stick your thumbs up in response, but horizontally instead of up completely.
“Kind of? What kind of response is that?” Harry tries to play it off as a joke in front of the crowd, when in reality a slight bit of anxiety creeps in over him thinking something is massively wrong here.
You take a deep breathe before shouting, “You haven’t played medicine yet!”
Harry regrets asking you now because the crowd praise you rather than him. He shakes his head at you, taking out his in-ears so he could hear the crowd. They were all chanting a combination medicine and your name.
“You’re going to pay for this later,” Harry points at you, “but i’ll see what I can do.”
The crowds cheers get even louder, which you didn’t think could be even possible. You laugh and a girl next to you hugs you. Normally that would be okay, but right now in the crowd with screaming fans all directed at you it’s a little intense.
Almost like a sixth sense, Harry notices. “Can we make a little exit path for this banana, please, thank you very much.”
Harry watches as you give little waves to fans letting you through and he doesn’t drift his eyes away, not even for a moment, until he sees that his bodyguard has collected you.
Once you’ve been taken away, the fans suspect probably backstage, Harry returns his attention back to the crowd.
“Well, thanks to that banana, I think we can do Medicine tonight.”
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heartfullofleeches · 5 months
Note
angel darling whos a bit disconnected from modern terms walking up to c.c and saying "yas girl slay. so cunty girlypop" with not contexr because they saw it online and thought it was a normal compliment
Yan Incubus + Angel Darling blurb
-
The human world is such a fun and interesting place.
Everywhere you look, you learn something new. Things have changed so much since the last time you interacted with the mortal realm, but with the help of the kind demon you met during your travels you've had an easier time at processing everything at a beginner's pace. Your superiors always warned you to steer clear of his kind, but he hardly seemed like a threat. Not only had he given you bed and board, but as an added gift for staying away from humans as he instructed the demon had given you a cellular device to use while he was away.
There was a lengthy list of restrictions on the device, his number was the only one you could call under these boundaries, but that hardly put a damper on your fascination with it. You haven't seen one of these since they were just buttons and dials attached to a cord on the wall. It's amazing how much human technology has advanced in such a short time. Regardless of setbacks you're learning new facts about the modern world left and right, and you owe it all to your new companion.
You felt as if you owed him for his kindness, despite him insisting your company was payment enough. If that truly was the case, what better way to thank him than with gentle adulation using words you've picked up during late night binges scouring the internet. He always teases you for your "grandma speech" when you've complimented him in the past, despite the flush of his cheeks reaching his ears everytime. You wonder what his reaction will be when you call him by terms more fitting to the times.
C.C poses in front of his mirror - balancing on his toes as he bends to get a better look at the curve of his skirt over his rear. "So what do you think, babe? Am I cute enough for your first night out on the town?"
It's about the sixth time he's changed his skirt alone, but you think he's looked lovely in all of them. Nevertheless- it's your time to shine. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as your eyes meet his from the mirror.
"Slay, Queen - you are serving so much cunt, girlypop."
C.C blinks - expression drain from his face. "What?"
"I said - Sla-"
"No, I heard what you said. Where did you pick up that kind of language?"
"Aside from you, online, I suppose."
C.C rounds the side of the bed, extending his hand with a few dramatic gestures forward. "Gimme your phone."
"Huh?"
He huffs and leans in close. "Now, Y/n."
"Have I don't something to upset you?"
Eyes flashing red, C.C grips your shoulders - hissing through his teeth as he speaks. "You aren't supposed to say things like that. You're supposed to call me beautiful or "a grace among man" or any of that other cute dorky shit you normal call me."
"Oh.... my apologies. I didn't mean to offend."
C.C sighs, throwing his arms around you in a tight hug. "No.. it's alright, I just really like what you use now. It's cheesy, but it's you and you are the most adorable your God ever had a hand in creating." He kisses your cheek, lips curled into that mischievous grin he's known for as they draw up to your ear. "But - I'll gladly be your Queen any day so I don't mind if we keep that one.... I'm still blocking the sites you picked the rest of those words off of."
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teyamsgrl · 6 months
Note
Hi Jade!
Do you think we can get a neteyam x human reader with stretch marks? Like the one with Lo'ak?
thank you so much for the req! i love these kind of fics and am more than happy to do one for neteyam as well! it's so important to create fics surrounding natural things like stretch marks that become insecurities as it can prove as great comfort for anyone struggling. enjoy 😊
opposite view ✧ neteyam
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°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, established relationship, insecure reader, best bf neteyam, comfort and reassurance ofc 🥹 - yawne: beloved - mawey: calm/be calm - tanhì: star
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it was difficult having a boyfriend that was a different species than you, for many reasons. you already looked different as it is, but the small things like your stretch marks made this feeling even more intensified. stretch marks were a thing neteyam didn't understand, it just wasn't relevant for the na'vi. he was never one to judge you in any capacity, but the lurking thoughts in the back of your head came to the surface and all you wanted to do was hide.
it was a shock to neteyam when you began to change the attire your wore, a hoodie being a rarity for you to wear considering the humidity of pandora. his eyebrows furrowed when you came from the lab with a hoodie on the first time but nonetheless didn't say anything, figuring it was just comfy for you. but as each day passed he became more concerned and more intrigued by your reasoning for it all.
late one evening you hear large footsteps marching down the hall of the lab towards your room, instantly recognizing the sound as neteyam. you quickly slip on your nearby hoodie having only been in a sports bra while tidying your room before creaking open your door. "yawne" you call out as you peak down the hallway, giggling at the way neteyam is crouching as he walks. "hey" he smiles and ducks into your room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "missed you" he whispers, bending to securely wrap his arms around your middle. "i missed you too, always" you whisper back, short arms wrapping around his neck as you bask in each other's warmth.
he pulls back slightly, eyes scanning your face before diving in, lips catching yours in a passionate kiss. you hum and let your hands run into his braids, fiddling with them as you kiss back. his tongue runs across your bottom lip, your lips parting to allow him in. your tongue glides against his, kiss deepening with every second. his hands that were once on your back were now wandering, groping and holding whatever was available. one of his large hands begins to push up the hem of your sweater, your foggy brain taking a second to register the action before you freeze up. he detaches your lips and speaks slightly breathlessly, "what is it?" his worried stare makes you well up, tears lining your eyes before they start to spill over the edge.
"hey hey..." he whispers softly, pulling you into his lap as he sits on the edge of your small bed. you can't stop the tears that continuously drip from your chin onto neteyam's bare legs underneath you. "mawey, mawey.." his large fingers begin swiping away your tears and coaxing you to take deep breaths. "you're okay.. what's wrong? what is with this sweater?" he inquires, showing you that he's already caught on and has been for some time. "it's the stretch marks, teyam.. i'm just- embarrassed" you sigh, pulling your sweater sleeves over your hands as if to sink into yourself more. "stretch marks?" his head tilts softly as he thinks, "those white lines, you know, on my hips and stomach.." he nods along as you explain.
"those? i love those... what is wrong with them?" his question is sincere, hands resting comfortably on your thighs. you sniffle, "they're just- ugly! an eye sore, just... unnatural" "i would say the opposite.. i think they're beautiful. you're beautiful and they're a part of you. maybe they aren't on every human, but that doesn't mean you should be ashamed of your body and how it works, even if that means creating stretch marks" his words soothe the insecurity flooding your mind, finally settling down. "it will take time, to not feel so bad about them but i will help you do that, anytime. you're beautiful, tanhì" you smile at his words and hug him tight, your body language showing him the genuine gratefulness you felt in this moment.
sure, it would take time to not despise the lines that stared back at you so strongly in the mirror but you knew it would be okay, especially with neteyam by your side. anything is okay with neteyam beside you.
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blissfullyapillow · 7 months
Text
Spoiling your boyfriend with your lavish funds ($$) & how he spoils you in return
Fem reader
wc: 3,872~
Summary: How you spoil your boyfriend with soft & cute scenarios
Characters: Welt, Sampo, Dan Heng, Luocha, Neuvillette, Blade
Pillow Talks: If I ever have a partner I’ll spoil them to the ends of the Earth. For now, I’ll just spoil myself. This is super fluffy.
Masterlist
⋮ Sampo જ⁀➴
Will not object, if anything he encourages your spending on him
You’d think he’d just take and take from you without a care in the world… and that’s partially true. He holds you dear to his heart so he’ll actually get you things too or perform surprising acts of service for you
Will fight for you, no questions asked
“Heyyyy babe, how was your day?” Sampo is at the door, greeting you after a long day of work. He’s already bending down to slip your shoes off your sore feet.
You chuckle at his eagerness. “I had a great day! You don’t have to do this for me you know, I am a perfectly capable and—“ “yeah yeah I know. I started the bath for you already. Oh, and I’m joining you.” Sampo ignores your pout, opting to kiss those pretty lips of yours instead.
You feel the fatigue of the day start to seep in as you return his kiss; all the fight you previously had in you vanishes. Sampo smirks to himself when he pulls away and you remain silent.
He wastes no time in leading you to your shared bathroom. Sampo offers to help you strip so you let him. Your mind is still slow and trying to catch up, so before you know it you’re being eased in a warm bath.
You sigh in content at the pleasant feeling of the warm water on your tense muscles.
Sampo apparently took the luxury of making the bath look pretty. You finally notice the little rose petals scattered about the water.
Speaking of Sampo, where is he? He said he’s get in with you.
Just as you look around the room for him he walks back in. “Sorry, I forgot to grab this.” Is all he says as he flashes you a cheeky smile.
He’s already stripped down so he moves to sit behind you. Before he gets in though, he tosses something into the water.
You curiously eye the little ball he threw in as be gets settled behind you. As pretty colors start to swirl in the water and a calming scent envelopes the room, you realize it was a bath bomb he threw in.
You watch in tired delight as beautiful colors swirl around in the tub. “I thought you wanted to use this bath bomb by yourself?” You sound tired as you murmur the words, and Sampo guides you to lean your back against him.
As your back meets his chest his arms reach over you to grab something. He situates himself again, and you feel something on your arms.
You jump at the unexpected feeling, but settle down when you realize he’s just cleaning you up.
“Heh. A little jumpy are we?” He dodges the hand you try to slap him with. “In regards to what you said earlier, well, I lied. I asked for that pack of bath bombs so I can use them with you.” Sampo’s words make you smile.
Sampo’s soft touches put you at ease. You find yourself closing your eyes as your body completely relaxes in his arms.
Sampo’s hands are soothing as he leisurely washes you from head to toe. You moan softly, feeling completely at bliss when his hands begin to massage shampoo (get it?) into your hair.
You feel so at ease that you may wind up falling asleep on him.
Sampo hums a quiet tune as he washes your hair for you. His voice was all you needed to finally enter a tranquil state of sleep.
Sampo smiles to himself, having accomplished his goal. He makes sure to clean you off properly before he leans back, allowing you to rest against him for a bit longer.
He’ll make sure to get himself cleaned up and get you out of the tub before your skin starts to prune, but until then, he’ll let you sleep against him.
You deserve it after all, for all that you do <3
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
┆Welt ₊ ⊹
He feels it should be the other way around
At first he adamantly refuses to ask for anything, until one day you present to him a small Arahato model that’s pretty accurate in nature. How did you accomplish this? Well, all you needed was Welt’s surprisingly detailed drawing. Money made the rest come to fruition.
You still remember the way Welt’s eyes got a little teary when you presented it to him, and how his eyes softened in what seemed like fond remembrance
Ever since you presented that model to him, Welt made a personal vow that he’ll protect you at any cost, against any force
You shift positions as you sit beside Welt on the plush seating of the sofa. Welt really wanted you to watch an old animated series he supposedly helped to create, and so that’s how you two have been spending this peaceful night together.
You’re both taking respite in a temporary abode on another planet, a well needed break after an intense trailblazing expedition.
The rain pounds against the roof of the building. Through the curtains on the windows you can see a flash of lightning.
At first you’re content. You’ve always loved thunderstorms; they provide you with a sense of comfort as long as the thunder isn’t too lou-
BOOM!!
You visibly jump besides Welt before you instantly curl into him and bury your face against his chest.
Welt remains silent but his arms instinctively wrap around your now trembling form.
Welt knows you usually don’t mind thunder since it’s rained like this on the planet before and you didn’t react this way.
He wonders why your reaction to the thunderstorm was different this time.
When you jump a bit at another absurdly loud thunderclap, he puts the pieces together.
It must be the sheer volume of the thunder. It was so loud even he was caught by surprise. It almost felt as if the building you two were in trembled in fear at nature’s frightening display of fury.
Welt hums to himself as he glances down at you. Your cheek is smushed against his chest and your eyes are squeezed shut. He can’t help but chuckle, finding this sight of you absolutely adorable.
He slowly lifts his free hand to rub your back in an attempt to calm you down.
Slowly, his hand moves along your back. Up and down. Up and down.
Welt feels his own body relax when you stop shaking. Your shallow breaths slowly become even once more. The rain continues to pound against the building, but lightning hasn’t struck for a long time now. Thankfully the thunder has long since ceased its boisterous declaration of fury.
Welt’s free hand moves to your hair, and he plays with it.
“There there. You’re safe with me. I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise.” His words are quiet, but they feel like a warm caress on your soul; a gentle embrace full of love and compassion.
You believe his words, and his promise fills you with a sense of peace.
Welt glances down at you once more, only to see a small smile on your lips as you begin to doze off. You slightly nuzzle your head on his chest as you get comfortable, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter.
He promises himself that he’ll uphold that vow he made to you.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
♦ Dan Heng ⚛ 
He feels a bit awkward asking you for things so he tends to remain silent whenever you ask him if he needs or wants anything
Lucky for Dan Heng you’re an attentive listener!! <3
You went out of your way to buy him all the books he’s mentioned in passing that he likes and/or wants to read when he got sick during a trailblazing expedition
The look of pure surprise on his face made you smile
Going forward, whenever he happens upon a book he wants he’ll subtlety elude to it, blushing furiously all the while
He’s honestly the standard, so you’re more than happy to spoil him. He’ll find said book in his hands mere hours later
“Are you alright?” Dan Heng’s obvious concern makes you feel a bit guilty. “Yes sweetheart, I’m-“ you wince in pain as you fail to finish your statement.
You’ve managed to strain your back muscles, and it’s been difficult to walk around let alone do anything.
Dan Heng noticed your unsteady gait as you tried to hide your pain. Once he confirmed his suspicions he made you take it easy with him.
He knows if he lets you out of his sight you’ll try to be productive instead of resting like you should.
“Here, rest your head on my shoulder.” Dan Heng ignores your protests, and soon you're comfortably nestled at his side. He opens the book in his hand once more before he begins to read to you out loud.
His voice is so soothing. The ambience, coupled with the quiet sounds of water underneath his futon assist in lulling you into a state of tranquility.
You close your eyes as you listen to Dan Heng’s voice. It’s more of an informational book that he’s reading, but you couldn’t care less. You just like listening to his voice.
The pain doesn’t feel as bothersome since you took some pain medication but there’s still a dull ache there.
You feel Dan Heng shift a bit beside you, and almost as if he read your thoughts his fingers gently massage the sore area of your back.
You exhale; his fingers work wonders on your sore muscles.
You notice Dan Heng’s nearing the end of the page. You sigh since you know he’ll have to pull his hand away to flip the page.
To your surprise, Dang Heng doesn’t pull his hand away.
He continues to read to you.
You slowly open your eyes to see him holding the book in a way where he can flip the pages with his fingers using one hand.
“Dan Heng… you really don’t have to stay here with me you know.” You whisper solemnly. You’re surprised when all you get as a reply is his soft chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want to be here with you. You deserve to take a break, so relax. I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is soft and oh so tender.
Your eyes meet his blue orbs, and the warmth in his gaze makes you shudder.
He leans in to press his soft lips against your own. When he pulls away, he presses another kiss to your nose before he resumes his previous position to read.
You wind up falling asleep like that, feeling much more at ease at Dan Heng’s side.
It takes him awhile to notice you fell asleep, but once he does he’s quick to close his book and lay you down beside him to sleep.
His eyes study the subtle rise and fall of your chest. They move up to admire the peaceful look on your face.
He moves closer to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him.
“You work too hard, and you spoil me more than I’d like. Please feel better soon, so.. so I can see that ethereal smile on your lips once more.”
He kisses your cheek. When his lips pull away, they subtly hover over yours.
He considers it for a moment.
He gives in to his hidden desire; His lips brush against yours, soft, lingering..
He smiles when you move a little in your sleep.
He kisses you on the lips again, and it feels like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
He groans at the feeling of your lips against his, and his heart flutters in his chest. He pulls away, since you are still sleeping, and his eyes linger on you.
“I love you.” He sounds so vulnerable, but it feels so right.
He falls asleep with you in his arms.
He makes sure to tell you those three words once more when you’re awake in the morning.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
┆Blade ‧₊˚✩彡
He’s the hardest person to do this for. He seriously doesn’t want anything. He’s content by just spending time with you
So, you spend your money on fun activities the both of you can enjoy together. Whether that be a stay at home DIY project or an outing to a fun amusement park, you're happy just to have Blade by your side
He appreciates your understanding, and he may not vocalize it all the time but he truly holds you close to the shattered remnants of his heart
You remind him that he is more than just a weapon
“Maybe the piece goes here?” You point to the edge of the incomplete puzzle piece. Blade takes a moment to study the area before he shakes his head in disagreement.
“I don’t think so. Look at the curve of this piece.” You lean closer to examine said curve, and Blade remains still.
“Hmm, you’re right..” You sigh as you rack your brain on how to fit the remaining puzzle pieces.
On your way home after a busy day you passed a store full of toys and fun trinkets, so you thought it’d be fun to walk in and see what they have.
You happened upon a rare puzzle that apparently only had eight pieces. It sounded like it’d be too easy to solve so you went to return it to the shelf. Before you could place the puzzle back on the shelf the bold words on the back of the box caught your attention.
Evidently, the puzzle in your hand declared itself to be a shape shifting puzzle. The directions explained that once you place a piece incorrectly every piece will shift into a new shape and you have to start all over. The fine print read that each transformation had a guarantee that the new shapes would fit together. 
You were sold.
You walked out of the store with the box in hand hoping that Blade would agree to solve this puzzle with you. 
Thankfully your wish came to fruition, and you’ve been enjoying the quality time spent with Blade. Blade, on the other hand, is getting adorably frustrated with this puzzle.
“I swear if I put this piece in and it transforms again..” Blade grumbles the words under his breath, and his obvious frustration makes you chuckle to yourself quietly.
He hears you, but the sound only makes him smile. He tentatively places the curved piece down in the spot you suggested. To your delight the puzzle does not transform.
After you two have been doing this for the past two hours, you both feel elated at the prospect of finally completing this puzzle.
With the last piece remaining on the table, you gleefully fit it into the appropriate spot. The puzzle shines brightly on the table, signaling your successful completion of the complex activity. 
A quiet noise of surprise leaves you when the previous image on the puzzle shifts. You watch with Blade as the image slowly transforms. 
When the transformation is complete, a dopey smile brightens your features at the image displayed on the puzzle.
The puzzle reflects a scene of the two of you. Blade’s expression is surprisingly soft as he gazes at you. You’re sitting close together, legs pressed against one another as you lean over him to examine the puzzle piece in his hand.
Your eyes slowly leave the scene depicted by the puzzle to look at Blade. A coy smile lifts your lips when you see the expression on his face.
His features are uncharacteristically soft, and his smile warm. He studies the scene on the puzzle with a look of endearment as his fingers reach out to gently trail along the edge of the puzzle pieces.
“How… beautiful.” His hushed voice elicits a coo out of you. 
Your smile is so wide your cheeks hurt.
His eyes finally leave the puzzle to look at you, and a knowing grin lifts his lips. His fingers move away from the edge of the puzzle to cup your chin instead. 
He wastes no time leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You can feel the soft upward curve of his lips as he kisses you.
He pulls away from you with a soft sigh of content. As his arms wrap around you,  warmth blossoms in your chest.
You two spend the rest of the evening basking in each other’s embrace. 
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
⟡ Neuvillette ᐟᐟ☆
You spoil him rotten
Anything he wants is his. Literally. Even if you can’t get it right away, you will get it as soon as possible, just to see that bashful smile on his lips.
Lucky for your wallet, what Nevuillette’s heart yearns for most is you.
He really doesn’t ask for or want much in the material sense. He just wants to spend whatever time he has by your side, cherishing you.
You’ll buy him very ‘human’ things and teach him about them. Phones, coffee machines, you name it. You may or may not be addicted to the curious yet confused expression he makes whenever you present to him something new.
You two love each other so much it’s almost insufferable to watch.
“Neuvillette, look what I have to show you today.” Neuvillette turns to face you, excited at the prospect of something new. “What do you want to show me, my love?” Your smile is contagious as you present to him the item you were hiding behind your back. 
An old fashioned flip phone.
Neuvillette glances at the object in your hand with mirth in his gaze. “Ah, I see. This is the older version of the modernized phone, yes? A.. flip phone was it?” Neuvillette takes the phone from your outstretched hand as he begins to fiddle with it.
You find yourself comfortably seated beside him, your head resting on his shoulder as he examines the flip phone. “Humans have created such innovative objects. It’s fascinating.” Your heart warms at the innocent fascination in his voice.
Your fingers slide down his arm in search of his hand. Once your fingers bump against his hand, he intertwines your fingers with his. He gently sets the phone aside before he moves to face you.
His arms wrap around your form. The blissful sigh he emits causes your smile to grow and your eyes to close.
“I love you.” Neuvillette whispers the words against the crown of your head. Your cheeks warm when he places a kiss there afterwards. “I love you too, my sweet little otter.” You can’t see it, but Neuvillette’s eyes soften. His face reflects the warmth of a setting sun on an eventful day; his expression accurately depicts how warm and loved he feels through spending his days with you by his side.
Oh, he loves you so much. “You make me so proud. You work so hard, and you’re so strong.” His words wrap around your heart like a warm blanket.
“Ah, Neuvillette..” You can’t help feeling pleased by his sweet words of praise.
“Nothing in this world will ever bring me more joy than spending my life with you. If I were not the Iudex of Fontaine I would dedicate every moment of my life to loving you. You are truly a gift to the world, and most assuredly a blessing beyond comparison. You’re someone to be cherished for millennia to come, and forevermore. I will see to it that that is brought to fruition.” Neuvillette’s soft words bring tears to your lashes. 
He kisses each tear that falls with lingering lips and a radiant smile.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
⚜ Luocha ♡⸝⸝
You’ll spend the most doting on him compared to everyone else (minus Sampo)
You buy him all his fancy shampoos, coupled with elegant accessories to put in his luscious golden hair. He takes excellent care of it after all, and that won’t stop anytime soon.
He will try on anything you buy for him and wear it proudly. Literally. You can buy him a fancy suit embedded with diamonds and he’ll strut around like the model he is, and in the same breath he’ll imperiously show off the ugly discolored sweater you bought him and insisted he’d love (you were joking).
You always get doted on by Luocha in return. Some days he’ll pick you up with a pretty bouquet of flowers, all meticulously selected by him, and other days he’ll show up holding your favorite treat or tickets to that event you’ve been talking his ear off about
Luocha insisted on taking you out for a relaxing day off, convincing you that you deserve it for all of your hard work. That’s how you find yourself relaxing in a private hot spring, the water a pleasant remedy to your aching muscles.
You find yourself admiring your boyfriend’s luscious hair as he stands in front of you, his bare back facing your direction.
You languidly move through the water to stand right behind him, and your arms slowly wrap around his frame. He jolts, taken by surprise, but he visibly relaxes as you press lingering kisses along his bare shoulder.
“You could’ve given me a warning, you know?” His tone comes across as a bit sassy, so you nip at the skin of his shoulder with your teeth.
That gets him riled up; he gasps before he swivels around and basically smothers you against him.
You squeal as he assaults you with loving kisses and wandering fingers as they tickle your sides. Your howls of delight are loud and absolutely adorable to Luocha.
“You better watch how you use that mouth of yours.” Luocha’s smug tone irks you, but you’re currently at his mercy and have no means of retort.
Luocha stops tickling you once you’re gasping for air. His tender gaze on your figure makes you feel giddy as you catch your breath. 
“Luocha..” He shakes his head as he wordlessly moves to stand behind you. He gets to work, nimble hands massaging your shoulders, and your loud groan elicits a chuckle out of him.
“How many times do I have to reiterate to you that self care is essential to a healthy body and a healthy mind?” Luocha clicks his tongue in disapproval as he rubs out the tense knots in your back. 
You ignore his scolding. 
“With a sassy man like you in my life I probably need more self care than others… hey!!” You laugh as it’s Luocha’s turn to nibble at the skin of your shoulder with his teeth.
“Just be quiet and let me take care of you.” He insists, playfully reprimanding you for your comment. You allow him to do just that, your eyes closed the entire time as the warmth of the hot spring puts you in a sleepy, drunken daze. 
You may have fallen asleep while you were still in the hot spring, and Luocha may have had to carry you out. 
Well, at least you were able to relax and enjoy yourself, just as he intended.
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daycourtofficial · 1 month
Text
Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 9
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: anyone else excited for me to actually update?? This part’s a bit short, sorry! Gotta set some things up tbh. I’m so so so excited for part 10. Cassian has big annoying little brother energy in this. Honestly Az does not make an in person appearance in this part, but just you wait 😉
(Masterlist)
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The warm water of the shower felt incredible, your mind unwinding as the water falls down your body. Thoughts of last night swirl through your mind, remembering how Azriel’s skin felt on yours.
You start going over the previous night again, from the way his eyes wandered over your body to the grip he had on you on the way home.
You were fucked.
You were pouring shampoo into your hand, trying to decide the odds that this was all a joke to Azriel, when the door to your bedroom opened.
You usually leave the door unlocked because Cassian has to reset the router pretty regularly, but you don’t think much of it until he is swinging open the door to your bathroom, letting in a cool breeze. You stick your head out of the curtain, hiding the rest of your body.
“Cassian,” you hiss, “what are you doing?”
“I don’t like eating alone,” he tells you, shrugging as he peels an orange.
“Cassian.”
“What?” He asks, words garbled from speaking through his orange slice.
“I’m in the shower.”
“So?”
You roll your eyes, pulling a hand out to emphasize your point. “I’m naked. In the shower.”
“There’s a curtain for a reason,” his tone sounding bored of this argument.
“You got a text from Az,” he says, annoyed as he looks at your screen that he can’t view the message. You drop your conditioner at his words, the clang of it echoing in the small room as you bend down to pick it back up.
“Just leave it, I’ll check it in a minute.”
"I hope it's a poem about how beautiful you are."
You roll your eyes, despite Cassian not being able to see you.
"I bet it says how annoying you are."
Cassian's gasp fills the room, "I am not annoying."
You poke your head out of shower, "we have weekly meetings to discuss how annoying you are."
In an act of complete maturity, you follow your statement by sticking your tongue out at him. Cassian holds your phone up to your face, letting it unlock the screen for him.
He sticks his tongue back out at you, "Thanks!"
He starts scuttling out of the room, yelling behind him, "if I'm lucky, you've sent Azzy some classy nudes!"
You start sputtering, yanking the shower curtain away, grabbing your towel, and quickly wrapping it around yourself as you follow after Cassian, not even turning the shower off.
"Aww, in this text he called you cute."
"Cassian."
He starts typing a response, his fingers flying over your phone. You hear the woosh of a sent message, and you stare at him, mouth open.
"What did you send him?"
He waggles his eyebrows, then hands you back your phone.
"You'll never know."
You look down at the phone in your hands, and sure enough, Cassian had sent him a text and promptly deleted it. The sick bastard.
"Cassian."
Your roommate simply shrugs at the tenseness of your tone, "I told him how you love him and how you want his precious babies."
You grit your teeth as Cassian makes kissing noises at you, debating the legal and moral ramifications of murdering Cassian when your phone chimes in your hands.
Azriel: thanks, I like your hair too :)
You look up at Cassian, a shit-eating grin on his face.
"You told him I liked his hair?"
"Yep," he says, biting into an apple, its crunch aggrevating some deep part of your brain.
“You’re the worst,” you say, opening your door and shutting it quickly behind you.
Later that night, Rhys decides to stop by to see Cassian, wanting to watch a rugby match on Cassian’s tv. Much to Rhys’s horror, Cass does have the larger tv.
Rhys starts to come in through the door to the apartment, but he can’t get the door opened more than a few inches because of a weight blocking him.
“What are you doing?” You ask, head peaking in the six inch crack of the door.
He looks confused, then looks around. “Trying to come in to watch rugby with Cass.”
“No you’re not.”
He tries to push against the door, but you keep it firmly in place. “I’m certainly trying to.”
“You’re not coming in - it’s girl’s night.”
He looks inside, confusion on his face as he huffs, “I see Cassian over there.”
“We voted to let him stay.”
Rhys looks offended. “And why not me?”
You lower your voice, leaning in closer to him, “because Feyre doesn’t invite boys she wants to talk about.”
His smirk grows predatory, as he surveys Feyre, Mor, and Cassian inside the apartment. “And why wasn’t Az invited?”
Your face flushes with heat, “we didn’t think it was his scene.”
Rhys snorts, leaning against the door frame. Knowing Rhys, he’d stay there until he got what he wanted to hear. “Az loves gossip more than anyone. Tell me why he isn’t invited and I’ll leave you be.”
You two glare each other down, a sight which must have looked quite amusing to anyone who didn’t note the seriousness of both of your faces.
You mumble out, “we don’t invite boys we want to talk about.”
He puts a hand around his ear, “I’m so sorry, dear, what was that?”
You grit you teeth, looking upward in hopes a god or a titan or someone would smite Rhysand and his stupid smug grin on the spot.
You let out a long breath, trying to let all the anger out so you can say distinctly, “we do not invite the boys we want to talk about.”
His eyes dance with amusement, his weight dropping from the door almost causing you to fall. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Maybe we’ll have a boys night - talk about you divine feminine creatures.”
He starts strolling back down the hall, “tell Cassian he’s welcome to join us.”
You close the door on him, dead-bolting the door so he can’t come in, turning back to reclaim your spot next to Feyre on one of the couches, Mor and Cassian next to each other on the other one.
“Now, I know we all gathered here to spend time together, but I showed up because I wanted someone to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Azriel.”
Mor stabs her teriyaki chicken with her fork, pointing it at you. You choke, trying not to laugh as the chicken falls off the fork back into the takeout container.
Cassian interrupts, his mouth full of rice as he says, “yeah what’s going on between you two?”
Your cheeks heat, all the attention in the room on you as you say, “nothing’s going on, Mor,” and grab a mouthful of sesame chicken with your chopsticks to prevent them from probing further.
It does not work. Instead, Feyre chimes in, “you guys were awfully close last night at karaoke.”
Mor points at Feyre with her fork, “she sat on his lap to and from Rita’s.”
Feyre gasps, sitting up, “you sat on his lap?” Then she looks at you with a mischievous glint, “could you feel him?”
She waggles her eyebrows as you throw an eggroll at her, earning you a soft hey in response.
“Feyre, watch your language around Cassian’s virginal ears.”
Mor spits out her drink, “there’s nothing virginal about what we do at night.”
She high fives Cassian, who is suspiciously quiet during this whole exchange.
“Hey,” you say to him, getting him to look up from his rice at you, “why’d you say it was good that my date was bad?”
“When’d I say that?” Cassian asks, tucking his phone under his thigh.
You roll your eyes, “literally yesterday when Az and I dropped off lunch for you.”
Mor whistles, “Az took you for a ride.”
Feyre’s eyes light up and you roll your eyes at her sing-song voice, still looking to your roommate. Cassian starts fidgeting, unsure what to do with his hands, “uh nothing he just was- kinda ugly.”
Your brows press down in a hard line, “okay, Cassian, he might not have been your cup of tea but he certainly wasn’t ugly.”
“But he wasn’t pretty like Azriel,” Mor chimes in, a smirk on her lips.
You throw your hands up, “whoa whoa whoa, I invited you guys over for chinese food and silly romcoms, why am I being ambushed about Azriel?”
“Because he likes you,” Feyre says, pouring herself a glass of rosé. You look to Feyre, trying to silently tell her you don’t want to have this conversation here with Cassian, but she keeps her eyes on her lo mein, a noodle slipping from her chopsticks.
“Az sure did enjoy you in the Barbie costume last night, babe.” Mor had an absolutely feral look to her as she starts, “I bet he had a fun night thinking about it with his hand wrapped around his- hey!”
You threw a pillow in her direction, trying desperately to get her to shut up.
“Hey, even Cassian thinks you guys would be cute, and he isn’t the most observant.”
Cassian picks the pillow up, hitting Mor with it again. “Thanks, Mor.”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
You turn to Feyre and the two of you make kissing noises at each other, then direct them at Mor and Cassian.
“Hey, we’re mature adults who just fool around. And do you know why we work so well?”
You put your head on your hand, looking up to Mor, “oh wise and beautiful Mor, please tell me why you and my roommate are so good at having sex with each other.”
Feyre snorts, but Mor responds, “because we talk to each other. We’re adults.”
“It’s different,” you say, going back to your chicken.
“How is it any different?”
“There aren’t any stakes for you two,” you say, and Feyre nods eagerly. “There aren’t any emotions - you two just have sex and you know that’s what you both want.”
Feyre nods enthusiastically, and you narrow your eyes at her, “and why aren’t we grilling you about the other boy? Hmmmm?”
Her cheeks blush, as her mouth opens and closes, trying to form words.
“Because she didn’t spend all of karaoke night whispering to him. Especially not during my performance.” Cassian ends his words with a huff, taking a swig of his beer.
“You mean our performance?” Mor ask, “we made it what it was.”
Cassian rolls his eyes, but lets it go, pulling his phone back out. “I’m going to order more Chinese - anyone want anything?”
Everyone’s responses echo, but you make out both Feyre and Mor asking for more crab rangoons.
Cassian lets out a soft, “it’ll be here in 30 minutes, let’s start this chick flick.”
Mor smacks him on the chest, “Pride and Prejudice is not a chick flick! It is cinema!”
As Mor and Feyre try to convince Cassian that he will love Kiera Knightley, your thoughts linger to the other side of the wall you shared. You wondered what they were up to tonight, what Azriel was doing, if Cassian and Rhys give him a hard time about you.
Of all the thoughts you had of them, the thought hadn’t occurred to you that Cassian would be texting Rhys updates throughout the night.
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toomuchracket · 25 days
Text
if you're too shy, part 3 (office nerd!matty x reader smut/fluff)
oh nooooooooo, you and your hot sort-of boyf colleague are left alone in the office together, whatever are you to do? teehee! part 1 here, part 2 here. enjoy <3
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matty looks so good right now.
the golden hour light streams through the office windows, totally illuminating him in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. leaning round the side of your laptop, you watch as he pulls his jumper over his head, messing up his curls endearingly and revealing those tattooed arms you've spent a lot of time in over the past two weeks, since that fateful night in camden; thinking back to a few nights ago, when one of those arms was tight around your waist and another was braced between your legs, diligently following your instructions, heat starts to pool in your lower stomach, travelling lower and lower until you're forced to clamp your thighs together just to stay sane.
your sigh echoes around the empty-aside-from-both-of-you office, the noise slightly louder than you'd intended. matty looks up, a sweet smile on his gorgeous face. “i know, darling,” he says softly. “just a little bit longer, yeah?”
the phrasing would be infuriating if you weren't totally sure he meant it in earnest. you nod, smiling back at him. “okay. you look amazing right now, by the way.”
“oh, stop it,” matty's cheeks redden quite beautifully. “come and sit with me, beautiful girl - need motivation to finish this conclusion.”
no need to ask you twice.
you put your laptop away and wander over, preening at the way matty looks at you with blatant desire. the lust in his eyes gives you an idea, sending another burst of heat to your core; once you snuggle onto matty's lap and give him a kiss, you speak. “so, you need motivation?”
“desperately,” he sighs, burying his head into your neck and lightly kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. “i've only got a hundred or so words to go, but it's impossible. help me, angel, please?”
“alright, then,” you kiss his neck in return, smiling into the skin when he hums happily, and press little pecks up his cheek so you can whisper, sultry, in his ear. “as soon as you finish the article, i'll have sex with you.”
matty lets out a noise that can be best described as a squeak, turning to look at you, wide-eyed - if not for the obvious hardening in his trousers beneath you, you'd assume he was horrified. “are you serious? like, you mean,” he wildly gestures to the desk with his free hand. “we could do it here?”
“seems sturdy enough, yeah,” you quip, raking a hand through his hair. “you've never thought about bending me over the desk here? i have. a lot.”
“no, i, um, i've thought about that,” comes the sheepish reply. matty looks at you properly. “but don’t you want our first time to be, like, in a bed? somewhere comfier?”
bless him. you kiss him again. “honestly, matty, i'm less concerned about where than i am when. feel,” you take his free hand and slide it up your dress, across the seam of the lacy underwear you've all but soaked through; he swears quietly, looking down at you in wonder. “and that's only from thinking about you inside me.”
“christ,” matty groans into your neck. “well… wait, aren’t there cameras in here? won't we get caught?”
“none in range of the desks, just the - oh, fuck - just the corridors,” you reply as best you can while matty sucks a bruise into your skin, spurred on by the knowledge you can fuck without interruption. “but even if there were, i know how to localise the cameras and reset and edit the footage without anyone realising it's been changed.”
“i have literally never found you sexier.”
“you're an idiot,” you giggle, pulling matty in for a surprisingly sweet kiss - it soon gets dirty, though, as you move to properly grind down onto him and pull the neckline of your dress down. “how about now?”
in spite of the fact that he’s seen them a few times now, matty whines at the sight of your tits. like, actually whines. the noise goes straight to your panties, and you can feel matty get even harder as you grind deeper onto him to try and relieve your discomfort; he buries his face between your tits, moaning into the skin before trying to take one wholly into his mouth. he’s frantic, actually, hand coming up to clutch the other while his hips begin to jerk up into yours, syncopated and desperate.
oh, you’re going to have so much fun ruining him.
“matty, sweetheart,” you say, in a singsongy voice that morphs into a moan when his teeth scrape against the soft skin on the side of your tit. “fuck, matty, babe, don't get too excited just yet - you've got work to finish, yeah?”
“i'll do it later,” his reply is muffled by your chest.
you pull his hair sharply - not enough to be agonising, but enough to make him look up at you; he looks fucked, cheeks rosy and eyes wild, and you're obsessed with it. but still, you can't let him get away with not listening to you. “but that wasn't the deal, was it, angel?”
matty sighs. “no. m'sorry.”
“good boy,” you kiss his forehead, smiling into him as he whimpers in response to the praise, and readjust yourself so you're sitting on his lap rather than straddling it. when you snuggle into him, pulling your dress back up, he kisses the side of your head, and your heart flutters. “i'll still sit with you while you finish writing, though.”
“thanks, angel.”
your motivational idea seems to work - it only takes matty ten more minutes to finish the article, fingers flying across the keys and pretty lips mouthing the words as he types them. you love watching him work, always have; the intensity in his eyes is magnetic, and flitting your own between his face and lips and hands is only continuing to turn you on. you could have grinded on him again, worked yourself up to tease him, but no. you'll wait, and you'll get off together.
what a delicious thought.
“there. done,” matty hits ctrl-s and exhales, nuzzling into you. “was you proofing part of the deal, or…?”
“nah,” you kiss his head, turning it gently so you can kiss him properly. “i'll just look at it when we get home.”
he smiles dreamily, which is also how you feel about the thought of domesticity together. “i like the sound of that.”
“so do i,” you move to straddle him again, kissing him deeply and grinding down onto him even more so. “you know what else i like the sound of?”
“what’s that?”
you grin. “you fucking me.”
“shit,” matty kisses you hungrily, deeply, sloppily; a trail of spit connects your mouths even as he pulls away, manic. “how do you want me?”
“oh, in so many ways,” you aren’t lying. “but right now… i want to look at you, while you fuck me on this desk. how does that sound?”
he closes his eyes, gulping as he nods enthusiastically. fuck, he’s so pretty. “that- yeah, that sounds good. great! it sounds great. really.”
“yeah?” god, you’re such a bitch for teasing him.
he doesn’t notice, though. “yeah,” matty smiles shyly. “thank you, darling. i really like making you feel good.”
your heart flutters, and all you can do is pull him in by the collar of his shirt and crash your lips onto his. desire practically seeps out of you both, but it’s accompanied by something tender, affectionate - you’re not sure what, exactly, but you like it.
actually, you’re not really sure of anything at the moment, except how badly you need him. you tell matty as much, murmur it into his mouth like it’s gospel, and he practically faints. “alright, sweetheart, alright,” he shakily exhales into your mouth. “let me get you ready.”
before you can snarkily rip him for getting you ready when he’s all but on the edge of climax already, matty’s lifting you up, kissing you as he gently - goosebump-inducing gently - lays you on your back on the desk. the wood is cold against your skin, despite the heat, but it’s nice; what’s even nicer, though, is the way matty fumbles for his discarded jumper and lays it under your head. he looks at you carefully, big beautiful eyes travelling all over your face (surely blushing, looking up at him all gormless and lovesick) to determine how you’re feeling. “is this okay?”
you nod, slightly too overwhelmed to speak. shit. you’re supposed to be the one doing the flustering.
(secretly, you don’t mind the way he’s treating you. not one bit.)
“good,” matty beams. a split-second later, his cheeks are rosy again. “can i, um, can i… look at your boobs again, please?”
“if you unbutton your shirt, yeah - s’only fair, isn’t it?”
he obliges immediately, fingers shaky as he reveals his bare skin. your eyes follow the undoing of the buttons, core pulsing with every new tattoo or muscle group or section of happy trail revealed, and your own fingers work to slide the cap sleeves of your dress down your arms and push the neckline almost to your stomach. the sun-soaked room isn’t cold, but your nipples harden as soon as they're freed from fabric, out of nothing more than sheer arousal. 
matty moans when he looks at you, big hands immediately brushing over your chest so he can lean over and kiss you - as he does, you wrap your legs around him and do the best you can to grind onto the rock-hard bulge in his trousers. he whines into your mouth, sliding his hands back down your body to clutch at your hips and do some grinding of his own. one particular movement hits your clothed clit, and he groans into you in response to your whimper. “please, please can i fuck you now? need it, my girl, need you so fucking badly.”
“yes,” you whisper, just as desperately. lifting your hips slightly, you move matty's hands to rest on them on the fabric of your underwear. thankfully, he catches on quickly, and pulls them off you, laying them carefully on the chair; you would think the action was endearing if you could think about anything except the way the cool air hits your soaked cunt, reminds you how turned on you are. “come on, matty,” you spread yourself even further open for him, loving his expression of wanton desire. “need you inside me, sweet boy”.
“yeah,” without taking his eyes off you, matty undoes his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down slightly to free his dick. saliva pools in your mouth as you watch him pump it, memories of being both joyfully surprised at the sheer size of it and determined to take it all down your throat last week flooding back - they're completely overridden by the present, though, specifically matty holding himself with one hand and gliding the other down your slit. “jesus christ. can i, you know…?”
you smirk. “can you what? need you to use your words, be a good boy.”
his face goes scarlet. “can i…” he trails off again, breathing shakily.
“matty.”
“fuck, m'sorry, darling, m'sorry - just keep getting distracted by how gorgeous you are,” coming from anyone else, that line would make you scoff, but earnestness practically drips from matty's words. he smiles as you stroke his face, sighing. “right. can i- can i get inside you?”
for the briefest of seconds, you allow your controlled façade to drop, pleading just so he knows how much you want him. “please, angel. need you to fill me up.”
after leaning down for a soft kiss, matty does just that, slowly pushing into you to a soundtrack of quiet gasps from both your lips and his. you're thankful of the slow pace he moves at, probably to keep himself calm - he's so big that you're practically breathless from the time he's half-in, your body rearranging itself just to take him in the most deliciously painful way.
once he's bottomed out, matty stops moving completely, in favour of putting his hands over his face and breathing heavily. you blink, concerned, doing your best to sit up on your elbows without moving too much. “matty, sweetheart,” you coo. “are you alright?”
“mhmm,” comes the muffled response. he drags his hands down his face, smiling shyly at you when you become visible to each other. “just give me a second - s'been a minute since i did this.”
“of course. i like how this feels, anyway,” you reach up to stroke his face, beaming when he nuzzles into you. “and, if i'm honest, i'm kinda upset that you have actually done it before,” you giggle, only half-joking. “wish it was only me, and you were all mine.”
matty smiles. “well, that's kinda true - you're the only person i've ever done it with that's actually mattered.”
your heart flutters again. “sweet boy. how are you feeling?”
“good. i, um, i think i'm ready.”
music to your ears. “okay. fuck me, then, matty.”
“alright. thank you.”
the tenderness of the whispered reply makes you smile, cheeks almost sore from how wide you beam; as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, they widen in another direction, jaw dropping at the feeling. “shit, matty, just like that.”
“yeah?” matty repeats the motion, over and over and over, eyes rolling back in his head as you clench around them. his jaw is slack, curls beginning to stick to his forehead as he fucks you slowly, cheeks pink. you don't know if you've ever seen anything more beautiful - before you can tell him, though, he speaks. “is this good enough for you? what else do you need me to do?”
what a sweetheart he is.
“you're perfect, angel,” you stroke his smiling face, heart leaping when he turns to kiss your palm. “if you want to, you can speed up, yeah? do what makes you feel good. been so sweet of you to learn what i like, i wanna return the favour now.”
he nods, eyes closing as he takes your advice with a throaty groan. whether it's the noise or the faster pace he's fucking you at, you don't quite know, but you whine in response, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging. matty moans again, blinking dazedly at you. “i like that.”
“when it hurts a little bit?”
“mhmm.”
“alright,” you move your other hand under his shirt to clutch at his back, digging your nails lightly into the soft skin and dragging them downwards. “that?”
“fuck,” he whimpers, hips speeding up yet again. you gasp at the feeling, another gush of pleasure starting between your legs; in response, you clench, and matty swears again. “god, you're so wet.”
“all for you, matty,” you lean up to kiss him, a sloppy meeting of lips and tongues interspersed with moans; pulling back to breathe, you whisper into him. “tell me what else you like.”
he kisses you again, still pounding into you - somewhere deep in the recesses of your pleasure-addled brain, you thank all that's holy for the editors’ interior design decision to buy extremely sturdy desks and not have them against any walls. “i like you.”
“yeah?” you smile, moaning at a particularly good thrust. “you like - fuck - you like the way it feels inside me, inside this pretty pussy?”
“yeah.”
“i like it, too, feeling you inside me,” you kiss his neck, licking up over his jaw and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear. “does it feel good, fucking my tight little cunt? never had anyone as big as you, sweetheart, fucking love it. you've got me fucking dripping.”
“feels so good, so fucking good,” comes the breathy reply. “perfect girl, perfect pussy. wanna - shit, oh my god - stay inside you forever.”
matty's hips are faltering ever so slightly, the rhythm dropping a sign that he's reaching the finish line. you decide to help him get there, gently sucking a mark into his neck and murmuring into the sweaty skin. “you can cum there, if you like.”
the whine he lets out is almost enough to make you cum. “is that alright with you?”
“of course,” you press a little kiss to his cheek. “want you to fill me up, angel. been such a good boy for me, you deserve it.”
“thank you,” matty leans round to kiss you properly. “please can i get you off, too?” wanna touch you, make you feel good.”
“you remember what i showed you?”
he nods, shifting weight onto one arm and waving his thumb at you. giggling, you take it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the pad before releasing it with a pop and speaking. “fast, but not too firm, alright?”
“yeah,” watching you intently, matty leans back to look down intently between your legs, bringing his thumb to the juncture between them. it takes him a couple of swipes to find what he's looking for, but your body jerks so obviously when he touches your clit that it's obvious he's made his discovery. still fucking you a bit haphazardly - in a good way, mind you - he rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves, just the way you like it. “that good for you, darling?”
the pleasure from the double stimulation is so overwhelming you can barely speak, clouding your brain and tightening both your vocal chords and your cunt; it's matty's whine at the latter that triggers a response from you, a matching wanton moan that by some miracle forms itself into a phrase. “yes, god, don't stop.”
“m‘kay,” matty's eyelids are drooping above you, but he smiles enthusiastically. “feel like i'm dreaming.”
“oh, my sweet boy,” you pull him down for a kiss, grinning against him at the whimper that escapes him when you bite his lower lip. “see? this is real.”
he giggles, gently kissing you in a way that's at total odds with how intensely he's fucking you. “i'm getting close, sweetheart. are you…?”
“yeah,” you aren't lying, either - pleasure is really starting to fizz up in your stomach, making your legs shake as they're wrapped around matty. “keep doing what you're doing, angel, keep being my good boy.”
the praise spurs matty on, keeps him fucking into you determinedly even as he crumbles completely above you. “oh, fuck,” he moans, skin slapping against yours as he chases release for both of you. his thumb stays circling your clit, bubbles of ecstasy rushing through your body every time he does - you're definitely getting close, pleasure building up to breaking point in your stomach more and more by the millisecond, and your heavy eyes and shaking body make that obvious to the perfect man above you. he kisses your nose. “you're close, too, aren't you?”
“mhmm,” you clutch him even tighter, desperate to keep him like this, keep him making you both feel good. “you gonna make me cum?”
“fuck, yes.”
and he does. how he staves off his own orgasm, you have no idea, but matty's dead-set on getting you off before he can; he fucks you through shaking legs, working your clit as well as if he'd been doing it for years and not days, forehead pressed to yours in such an intimate way that you could cry if you thought about it for too long. he looks fucked above you, but so fucking beautiful - when the pleasure inside you cracks and surges out into the rest of your body, sending wails of his name out of your lips, you're not quite sure if it's just because of the sex, or if there's another emotion or two behind it adding to how good you feel.
but you don't have time to dwell on that, though, before matty's whimpering about his own climax against your lips. “m'gonna cum, oh my god, shit, sweetheart, m'gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”
“good boy, my perfect boy,” you're still spacey after cumming yourself, but the hand still in matty's hair is tethering you somewhat. “cum for me, matty. fill me up.”
with perhaps the single sexiest noise you've ever heard, matty does just that, burying his head in the crook of your neck while he finishes, hot and deep, inside you. “oh, thank you,” he whispers into your skin, panting bodies still clinging together as you come down from your high. “jesus christ.”
“did you like that?”
matty laughs, leaning back to look at you. “that's an understatement, darling. it was perfect,” he strokes your sticky cheek, looking tenderly at you. “you're perfect.”
“back at you, sweet boy,” you kiss his nose, then his lips - a sweet kiss, nothing like the sloppy mid-sex makeouts you just had. “thank you for being so keen to make me feel good.”
matty shrugs, bashful. “i like that bit most of all.”
“oh, he’s cute!”
“i try,” he giggles. with a final kiss to your nose, he leans back. “am i alright to, like, pull out now?”
“of course,” you sit up on your elbows as he does, wincing at the sensation (and lowkey mourning the loss of him inside you). matty crouches to look at his cum dripping out of you, face so awestruck you can't help but giggle. “good view?”
he blushes, smiling shyly up at you. “the best,” carefully, he brings two fingers to your core, gathering up most of the white liquid and looking at it in wonder; his gaze then shifts to you, cheeky. “i mean, you're kinda clean now.”
you roll your eyes, but smile. “c'mere,” when he obliges, you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking the cum from them and swallowing with a satisfied hum. “look at that - both clean!”
“oh, that was underhanded,” matty kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth before he pulls back. “but you're so beautiful that i'll let you get away with it.”
you swing your legs happily, pulling your dress back up over your chest. “thanks, angel.”
“m'serious, by the way,” matty reaches for the tissue box on the opposite desk and then your discarded underwear, crouching again to wipe you clean and slide the fabric up your legs. “most beautiful girl in the world.”
“your girl.”
he hums happily, cleaning himself off and tucking himself back into his boxers, leaning down to kiss you while he zips up his trousers. “mine, all mine. now, let me just,” he lifts you up and sets you on another desk, wiping the one you just vacated as best he can with a dry tissue. you bite your lip to keep from laughing at how endearing he is, and smile sweetly at him when he turns back around; that soon turns into a shriek when he scoops you up bridal-style. “right. let's go home.”
***
“are you sure i didn't leak onto the seat there?” you walk backwards up the hall towards your flat, looking at matty. “i was so panicked the whole drive.”
he rolls his eyes. “sweetheart, for the millionth time, there's no cum on the passenger seat. not that i'd have minded if you ruined my car like that, though. s'kinda hot.”
“you kinky little bitch,” you snort, unlocking the door and stepping inside; the scrambling of tiny paws across wooden floors becomes audible as soon as you do. “and speaking of little bitches…”
“don't call her that!”
“oh, stop it, i'm being literal - hi, maggie!” you crouch as your border collie puppy comes into view, bounding towards you excitedly - annoyingly, she passes you without so much as a lick hello, and goes straight to matty. “oh, for god's sake.”
he laughs, letting her lick all over his face before scooping her up like a baby and cooing at her. “maggie-moo! did you miss me? yeah, course you did. more than you missed your mum?”
“matthew.”
“sorry, darling,” he wanders over to kiss your head, kicking the door shut behind him. “i still can't believe you waited until we started dating to tell me you had the cutest puppy of all time. imperative information, that.”
“still pulled you without her, didn't i?” you quip, wandering down the hall to dump your and matty's bags on your bed, the two Ms in tow. “and you only think she's the cutest because she's sweet to you. she's a total terror, otherwise,” you pet maggie's little head. “i think she might've inherited that from me.”
matty giggles. “well, i'll take you both being sweet to me. yes, mags, i will!” he scratches her under the chin, and her little eyes close as she stretches; within seconds, she’s fast asleep, and he awws. “i'll put her down in the living room.”
“thank you, angel,” you kiss maggie's head, then matty's, and wander into your bedroom to get changed.
matty follows behind a minute later. “i can take her out later before we go to bed… oh my god, darling, i'm so sorry for bursting in on you like that,” he goes bright red when he sees you're only in your panties. “i can wait a second, let me just-”
you cut him off with a giggle, walking to him and kissing his nose. “you literally creampied me not even an hour ago, and you're flustered by walking in on me changing? god, you're so cute.”
“oh, shush,” matty hides his face in your hair, wrapping his arms around you. “i've forgotten what i was going to say now.”
“sorry, angel,” you stroke his hair. “while you think, do you want to have a shower with me? and then we can order some food?”
“really?” his voice is full of wonder. “yeah, i’d like that. thank you.”
your heart glows. you take his hand and lead him next door to the bathroom, turning the shower on and adjusting the temperature as you speak. “no need to thank me, matty. just doing my girlfriend duties, you know.”
there’s silence for a second. then you realise what you said, and panic sets in - your blood runs ice-cold, and you turn to an undressing matty with a horrified gasp. “i am so sorry, matty, i don’t know why i-”
“darling, it’s alright,” matty steps out of his trousers and kisses your head. “i’d quite like to refer to you with that title too, if i'm honest. and, you know,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “if you want to call me your boyfriend… i'd be very honoured.”
he's so adorable that you have to genuinely hold back a scream. so you merely beam at him, and kiss his hand. “follow me. we can start your designated boyfriend role of washing my back for me right now.”
in complete contrast to the desperate, fast-paced sex of earlier, your first shower with your boyfriend (!!) is languid, romantic, saccharine-sweet. well, there are several deep kisses, and both yours and matty's hands do linger on parts of each other's bodies that may be considered impolite by some, but there's no real lust behind it - none more so than usual, that is - just a curiosity, a fascination, and a want to hold each other as tight as possible. that easy comfort around each other lingers the whole night, through ordering and eating pizza, curled up on the sofa watching the young ones while maggie does her utmost to get the discarded crusts for herself; through sharing a cigarette in the communal garden while the puppy does her business and runs around to tire herself out; through brushing your hair at the vanity in your bedroom before you go to sleep, matty sprawled on the bed and watching you with adoring interest while maggie sleeps on her bed under the window.
while you're putting your hair into its bedtime braids, he wanders over to the record player in your room, looking at the empty sleeve on the table next to it before lifting the lid and peering at the disc. “melodrama? i haven't heard this in ages.”
you turn in your chair, smiling. “but you know it?”
“of course.”
“good,” you walk to matty, kissing the back of his neck. “it's maybe possibly my favourite album of all time.”
“really?” he turns in your hold, resting his elbows on your shoulders. “tell me about it.”
“okay. better get comfy,” you tug him to your bed, climbing in and flicking the bedside lamp off; your boyfriend climbs in too, face illuminated by the faint moonlight peeking through the thin curtains. “you know that it's set over the course of one night, right? at a house party?”
“is it?” even in the low light, you can see matty's brow furrow. “but it's so… far-reaching, i would say, emotionally.”
“yeah, it is, the house party is just a narrative framework to focalise it, i s'pose,” you yawn. “and i don't know if she’s ever confirmed it, but i think all the fadeouts on the album have a purpose - they all seem like they're a means of marking the end of a step in the relationship cycle she's singing about. like, the one at the end of the louvre is the end of the ‘rush at the beginning’ she sings about, because then the album goes into liability and hard feelings/loveless, so the heartbreak section, and there's a fade out at the end of loveless, too. you get me?”
“i get you, darling,” the smile in his voice is audible.
“cool. all in all, there are five stages to the cycle, and it repeats between green light and sober; so, the first song on the album is chronologically last in breakup terms,” you rub your eyes. “which is kinda genius, because then the house party framework is really clear. like, you start the night by going out, but you also end your healing journey by doing the same thing, getting back out there and all that. it's so amazing. and the songs are all good,” a beat passes, then you giggle. “sorry for just rambling on about melodrama right before we go to sleep, sweetheart.”
“nah, i loved it. makes a nice change to be the one listening, for once,” matty laughs breathily, stroking stray hairs from your face. “i like listening to you talk like that - like it when you do anything, really.”
“back at you,” you lean in to kiss him softly, sliding your arms around him. “i'm really happy you're my boyfriend, by the way.”
“so am i, darling,” matty yawns, nuzzling his head into your chest. “shall we get some sleep?”
“sounds good. what are our plans for tomorrow?”
“oh, yeah, that's what i forgot i was gonna say earlier,” he tilts his head to look at you, eyes heavy with sleep. “we could maybe take maggie for a walk at the park near my house, if you like, and i could make us some dinner afterwards.”
“will you make me soup?”
matty laughs, kissing your bare skin. “of course i will. whatever you want.”
“alright,” you smile, going back in for yet another kiss. “it's a date. goodnight, angel.”
“night, sweetheart. see you in my dreams.”
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Shattered.
adjective ‘very upset’
in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.
word count - 5.6k
authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!
warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)
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August 30th, 2022.
As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.
Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.
His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.
Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.
"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.
"I'm Corey."
"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.
As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.
"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.
"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.
Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."
Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"
A smile spread across your face at the invitation.
"I'd like that."
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February 4th, 2024.
Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.
Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.
He usually was.
Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.
Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.
"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."
You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.
But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.
"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.
Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."
As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.
Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.
"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."
But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.
"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."
As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.
Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.
Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.
Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.
With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.
As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
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February 6th, 2024.
On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.
It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.
Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.
As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.
The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.
Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.
As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.
"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.
Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."
Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.
"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.
Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.
"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.
Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.
"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.
"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.
The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.
"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.
And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.
As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.
"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.
The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.
"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.
The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.
"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.
Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.
"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.
"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."
Barney nodded in agreement.
"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.
As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.
"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.
Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.
"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.
As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.
He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."
Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.
Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."
Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.
"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.
In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.
As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.
From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,
Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.
Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.
With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.
Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.
With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.
Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.
Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.
Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.
Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.
And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.
As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.
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10th February, 2024.
As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.
He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.
Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.
Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.
As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.
Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.
As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.
"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."
Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.
"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.
Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.
They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.
"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"
Harry glanced at his watch before replying,
"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.
Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.
"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.
"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.
As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.
Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.
With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.
After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.
As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.
Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.
"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.
Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.
"I couldn't resist," he admitted.
The woman beamed with delight.
"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.
Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.
As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.
"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.
You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.
Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.
Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.
Both of your eyes widen.
Both your mouths go dry.
You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.
Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.
"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.
You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.
"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.
But it was.
Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.
"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."
You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.
"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.
Harry's brow furrows in concern.
"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.
He remembers your name?
"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"
You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.
"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."
Harry sighs, his expression troubled.
"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”
Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.
You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.
"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."
Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.
"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.
You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.
"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."
Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.
"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."
You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.
"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."
Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.
"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."
But where would you ever find him?
You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.
"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.
His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.
"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.
You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.
"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.
With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.
You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.
As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.
You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.
Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.
As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.
With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.
A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.
Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.
You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.
Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.
Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.
"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."
The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.
But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.
Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.
"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.
Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.
"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."
The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.
With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.
Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.
He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.
As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.
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LATER THAT NIGHT….
Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.
"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.
You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.
"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.
The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.
"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.
Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.
Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.
"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.
You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.
Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.
"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.
"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."
The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.
Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.
Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.
Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.
As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.
With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.
But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.
"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."
Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.
"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.
Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.
"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.
"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."
And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.
Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.
Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.
With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.
The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.
Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.
As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.
Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.
How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?
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littlespoonevan · 9 days
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I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah
hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)
but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️
The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure
Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania
“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.
standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum
In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.
across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 
“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.
darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.
i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys
“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.
no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades
Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.
when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 
Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)
i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove
She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys
LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.
said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove
“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).
cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other
so far from being free by allisonRW96
"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."
don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife
Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)
dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 
The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)
I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.
never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger
It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.
Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen
“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.
Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania
“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.
keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas
Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston
The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
as lucky as us by hammersmiths
One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.
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xhanelia · 3 months
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I’ve discovered your blog and it’s single handedly feeding my current valorant obsession, I love your writing so much. With that said, could I please request a some fluffy confession scenes with Sova or possibly Chamber? Thank you so much!
I will abandon this page istg i hate tumblr but this is a request i can write in one go so here i am at 00:43. Lets see when i'll finish it. (Im done and its 03:00)
<<<The reader is another agent in the protocol in this fic. Sova part is GN and Chamber part is female reader. >>>
Hope you like it! And thank you sm!!
Confession headcannons with Sova and Chamber
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He is the hollywood star of hiding emotions and pressing them in so no one can tell what he really feels or who is the person he has eyes on. Exept himself ofcourse.
He is not some kind of "i'll built up my emotions inside so i wont hurt anyone" kind of person. He knows he shouldnt hide them too long or it can cause damage. He talks about his problems to Brim like everybody does. But not love, ofcourse.
He thinks that he shouldnt feel like this to a coworker. Not that there isnt any couples in the HQ. There is Raze and KJ and he knows that Brim allows it.
He is probably scared of you rejecting him. If so, there will be a moody aura between whenever you two need to team up for a mission. He cannot allow that. That will effect both of your morals and the performance.
But every second he is not speaking about his feelings is like a torture to him. Like all of his energy is drawn out of him when he returns from a mission or just from trainings.
Spending his day at his room, not practising archery, not having conversations much often, sitting in the plane and looking out of the window while going to a mission rather than giving courage to people is not like him. Something is bothering him. Clearly.
You went to sit next to him. He immediately turned his head to you. "Did something happened?" He asked.
"I should be the one asking you that." You said. He stared at you for a good 15 seconds.
"Lets have this conversation after the mission." He suggested with the pressure of his own feelings. It was getting too much for him to handle. You did not pressed on it. The mission was a short one after all. Everyone did good and went back to the HQ with the same plane.
He immediately regret his choice of words when you stood infront of him when he tried to get out of the plane. He was planning to found an excuse but he didnt had the time to think about that.
"Umm..." he said trying to get some time to think. You lift a brow, implying that you both know why you are in his way.
"Lets talk about it when no one is around, shall we?" He said while bending over you a little.
"There is no one around, Sasha. You took unexpectedly long to leave the plane." You said. You were not letting him escape again.
He sighed. Looking around, really no one was left at the landing field. He grabbed your arm and getting you two both out of the plane. The sky was open and orange with the sunset of the beautiful winter.
He held both of your hands. You could feel the shake of them. It was ironic that the sniper of the protocol's hands was shaking that easily before you.
"You dont have to say anything, its better if we pretend that i said nothing, but..." you tilted your head and frown at the words. "I am in love with you." He says.
He is too scared to look you in the eyes or hear the words that will come out of your mouth so he continues to speak.
"I was too scared that our friendship will never be the same after my confession so i kept this feelings inside but they didnt stop growing. I felt like i was drowning and couldnt hide it anymore. I am sorry if i ruined our friendship and-"
He stopped after hearing your laugh. Did he said something stupid? Was this so childish for him to do? Why were you laughing?
"You were hiding this from me? For how long?" You said. He got confused. "Uhh... for... over 4 or 5 months?" He said, unsure about when he got this crush over you.
"You should have told me from the start silly. I like you too!" As you said, his eyes lit up with the happiness. Holding your hands tighter, he asked. "Really? Are you real? You are not saying that because you dont want me to feel bad, do you?"
With your head shake as a no, he hugs you while both of you laugh with joy. And there goes your first kiss with him. Under the orange sky with the blow of an air like a celebration of the nature for both of you.
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Mhm. We all know this man aint hiding nothing. He shall show you and everyone that he has eyes on you so that nobody can steal you from him untill he officialy takes you out.
Yea i feel like he would take you out to an extra expensive restaurant to confess, even the offer itself looks like the confession already.
"Chamber, you really dont have to." You say while hanging the vandal back to its place. Training was over and the french man knew your schedule from head to toe. It was impossible for him to miss any of your free times.
"Please, the randevu was made from weeks ago. Plus, if it isnt going to be you then who is it?" He says while giving you the card of the restaurant. On the card, it was written the place of the restaurant (i will die from this stuffy nose istg i cannot write) with the date and time of the randevu with his fancy handwriting.
You gave a smile to him. Not often you got this kind of... um... take outs? (I forgor the word in english) He was generous to offer you this. Altough it was clear why he did this.
You contact Brim to clear that day but he said that Chamber did it for you. Then you discover that nearly everyone knows about the "take out" that you guys will have.
"O. M. G. You know that he will confess you that night, right?" Jett said while cutting cucumbers to put on her eyes but Phoenix eats them trying not to get caught. The girls night is getting little heavy on you. (Pho is one of the girls idc.)
"Yea, yea, i know. Who doesnt." You said while rolling your eyes. Trying to not pop the conversation much.
"I mean, i didnt got a confession in a fancy restaurant." KJ said while looking at Raze. Who has no idea whats going on.
"Well, im okay if he wants to do it this way but im not sure if i'll fit in that kind of atmosphere. Everyone and everything is so expensive. You know." You said while shaking your shoulders.
"Are you kidding me? That french has his eyes on you. You think he will matter if you fit in or not?" Neon lifts the cucumbers from her eyes and looks at you from the couch. You lift your hands sideways as to tell you dont know.
"We will make you fit." Phoenix says with excitement. "What is the date?" He asks while everyone awaits the answer from you.
Eventually, the date comes. Everyone you gave the date is more excited than you. Preparing your dress, makeup and everything like its a doll dressing game.
When it comes to Chamber, he was ready more than ever. It was like classic Chamber yet so different. He had his 'special occasion suit' on him and a smug smile on his face. He offers you his arm and you take it.
(You go to the restaurant but its getting too late and i need some sleep so imma skip that part.)
"So..." he says while you both sit face to face, eating dinner. He had studied this for over how many times and yet he is still nervous. You turned your look at him and raise a brow.
"We both know why we are here, Vincent. I like you too. You dont have to give me a whole speech." You said. Drinking some of the wine to cover your face and overexcitement.
He laughs at your boldness. "Its open like a book, isnt it?" He looks straight into your eyes. You feel like they could pierce through you. "Thats my girl. Bold and smart as always" He says. "You dont need a brain to see that you have eyes on me." It was your time to laugh.
He looks at you with that stupid smirk on his face. Like he truly fell in love if you. "I love you." He says. Giving up on the talk he had prepared. He felt like it was the only thing he needed to say.
Even if that three words was the only thing he said, they made your heartbeat race up immediately. With a giggle, you hold his hand that is on the table. "I love you." You said. The only thing he said and the only thing he needed to hear from you was the same nontheless.
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