Tumgik
#so now he doesn't look sleep deprived
natelia-aldelliz · 1 year
Text
Ghost gifts a single tiny ear loop to Soap one day. Says he noticed Soap had pierced ears. That rings keep from handling a gun or a knife properly. He doesn't make eye contact, tries to hide his face, even as he's already wearing his balaclava.
Soap blinks. Ghost has already given him gifts and only behaved that way for the very first one. He doesn't understand. The earring is very simple, but seems to be made of expensive material and not only covered with a thin leaf of gold.
"Didnae it come with another one?" he says, jokingly.
But Ghost flushes, turns his head, and lifts his mask, only enough for Soap to see the glinting of the other earring on his ear. Suddenly he understands that it's not simply a gift. Ghost favoured practicality, but he wanted to give him a ring.
He grabs his hand as it falls back down.
"Simon, what is this?" he asks softly, not daring to be hopeful just yet.
With his other hand, he reaches out to gently turn Simon's head back towards him. His cheeks and his nose are flushed, it makes the warmth of his dark eyes, generally hidden behind a sneer or a bored expression, undeniable.
He looks nervous. Johnny's heart is beating faster. Could it really be...?
"I know", Simon starts then pauses, uncertain. "I know I'm probably not what you thought you'd have, when you were younger" Soap wants to interrupt, to scoff, to protest that Simon is way better than anyone he could have hoped for, but doesn't. He never wants to cut off his love when he's barely starting to open up.
"I know that I'm not easy to be with some days, that I'm not friendly and easy going like you, like someone you'd deserved to be with." he continues, unconsciously pushing his face more into Soap's hand. "But... I love you, more than I thought I could, and I'd like... I'd like to be with you, for as long as you'd have me..."
Johnny's heart is soaring. He has no idea how to react. He'd have to get all the giddiness out first, and the moment doesn't seem appropriate for jumping around and squealing.
"Officially," Simon continues, voice quieter, out of breath. "If you want to."
A gigantic grin splits Johnny's face. All of his limbs are buzzing, he needs to stand up, to run, to explode something. But he's terrified to spook Simon so instead he just squeezes the hand he's holding rhythmically and moves his feet back and forth.
"Baby, are ye asking me tae marry ye?" Johnny says. He's pretty sure his voice is wobbly, but can't really hear it himself as the blood in his ears is louder than the rest.
Simon's eyes do something, what is visible of his face looks like he has an expression on but Johnny can't analyze it now, doesn't dare to see the hope in his eyes, the pleading in his brows.
"I... Yes, I guess I am," the love of his life says finally. "If you want to. You don't have to."
Soap can't keep himself in check any longer. He's making a high pitched noise, jumping up and down where he's seating on the bed, and throws himself at Simon.
"Of course ah fooking want tae!!!"
Simon lets out an excited giggle, swept in Johnny's mood, and tightens his arms around his lover. No, his fiancé.
This is the best day of his life. He just has to deal with this mission tomorrow, and then they can start to plan everything.
#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghostsoap#soapghost#and now a bit of angst as a treat :#soap goes on his mission and doesn't return - ghost immediately goes to look for him and only finds traces of a struggle#then price receives a bloody earring and instructions to give out state secrets in exchange for soap#ghost goes ballistic - price doesn't deal with terrorists but has to make them believe he does to gain some time#they need to find where they keep soap - when they eventually manage to rescue him he's in a pretty bad shape and cries when he sees ghost#he looks like he hasn't slept since he was taken and his lobe is covered in dried blood where his captors ripped the earring from it#he sobs in ghost's arms that he lost it#that ghost had given him something so precious and he wasn't able to keep it and ghost knows that it's only because he's been tortured and#sleep deprived but it still breaks his heart & he doesn't know what to do and how to make soap understand that he loves him no matter what#johnny needs a medic and fluids and sleep and stitches and a cast but he can't bring himself to let him go so he just carries him#and doesn't let him go until he absolutely has to even as soap falls asleep on the way back and even as the others look at him with a look#on their face - it doesn't matter anyway soon he'll be simon mactavish and everyone will know#as he's waiting at soap's bedside watching him sleep price comes in and gives him the earring - it's been cleaned and looks good as new#then price asks him if he's invited and after a minute of ghost looking at him with wide eyes he eventually nods#'of course' he says 'we wouldn't be anywhere without you old man'#and price gently punches him in the shoulder#'you have to stop calling me old the recruits are convinced I'm like 50'#and ghost smiles for the first time in a week - he won't stop though - not until he convinces the recruits that price is at least 60
513 notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
“Amore et Timore” - King Fernando I “El Animoso”
#*why is it that when I write tags that are genuinely imporant and wordy it always doesnt save UGH#well. ill try and rewrite them.#hahaha I bring you curly haired king Fernando!!(mostly for cofi)#2011 monza gp core Fernando that gripped us all by the throat right?? right????#also i hope that his hair doesn't appear red to you like it did to me on my pc??? its brown I assure you#anyways! historical context for nerds like me:#'el animoso'(the spirited) comes from Philip V of course#it was apparently bestowed on him bcs of his perseverance and unwavering fervor in battle#and is that not the most Fernando coded thing youve ever heard?????#'Amore et Timore'(through love and fear) however comes from Joseph I#whom seb is partially based on but i thought his Latin motto fit Nando way better so here we are#philip v didn't have a motto as far as i could tell so that's why I stole Joseph's#but i do think the motto for the Spanish kingdom fits Fernando's career pretty well?#'A solis ortu usque ad occasum'(from sunrise to sunset) and i think that suits Fernando's 'longest f1 career ever' p well#anyways I sent a sketch of this to cofi the other day like yeah I probably wont finish this#and now here i am on 5 am on a tuesday grinning manically sleep deprived like HERE YOU GO#i think he looks very cute in this!!! i really did a lot of work on his eyelashes...very important detail to me#he kinda accidentally looks like Louis XIV unfortunately#but thats down to his hair I think. it looks a lot more like the traditional wig style from then compared to what I typically draw#but god imagine being seb in this au!!! you get to wake up next to this majestic beast....#seb would have this painting framed over his bed or something. i mean who wouldn't????#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso#f1 fanart#formula 1 fanart#catie.art.#boy king au
49 notes · View notes
nerdpoe · 3 months
Text
When Dick called home, begging to come back from his undercover work, he dialed the wrong number. He dialed Fentonworks phone.
Jack Fenton answered.
Jack Fenton sounds so much like Bruce at first listen if someone is tired and emotionally wrecked that Dick started going on his tangeant, pleading to come home.
Jack Fenton doesn't mind more kids at all! Neither does Maddie!
Jack tells him to come home and gives him the address to Fentonworks, and gets the guest room set up and ready to go.
Dick, finally arriving three days later, still sleep deprived and not all there, stares at the blimp on the building and starts to think he may have dialed the wrong number.
He doesn't have time to cry and go back, though, because Jack and Maddie Fenton whirlwind their way out the door and corral him into his new bedroom, treating him like he's always been their son and he's just been gone for awhile.
And Dick...Dick needs this. He's three steps from a mental breakdown, can't think past two sentences worth of planning, and he hasn't slept in who knows how long. He can regret later, right now, he'll take it.
He allows them to tuck him into bed, allows himself to fall asleep, and leaves the freaking out to a more awake him.
Danny, meanwhile, is having a little chat with a few of the ghosts that regularly follow Dick Grayson, and goes invisible and intangible to just...fly over to where this guy had been and steal the info he was after.
Because holy shit, that dude looks like he needs a break.
Or: Dick gets adopted as an adult by the Fentons instead of Bruce, and gets a really weird support network.
5K notes · View notes
primofate · 2 months
Text
Confessions Series - Part 2: Description [Genshin Impact Male Characters]
In a nutshell: He asks if you have your eyes set on someone. You start describing HIS features and watch for his reaction. (Hint: He likes you too)
Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Overheard)
Warnings: The usual, haven't written in a while, please forgive mistakes, bit of angst in Diluc (couldn't help it), I am a sleep deprived mother, some profanity, for some reason did not feel like writing Zhongli though he's one of my faves.
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gaming, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Xiao, gn!reader
Personal Favourites: Diluc, Wriothesley
Aether
"Yeah, I do," you start. "He's very selfless...He's always running around helping other people,"
Aether nods, intense gaze in his eyes while listening.
"Hmm...He has...a partner. Like a companion he always travels with..."
Aether's brows start to furrow and his head tilts the slightest bit. Paimon flying next to him has no clue who it is whatsoever.
"He's not originally from Teyvat...He's on a journey, you see..." this is where you start getting nervous
You see it click in Aether's head slowly, and his eyes start to widen the slightest bit
"Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you, traveller! Why have we never met this person before, Y/N?" Paimon asks and you only smile.
"P-Paimon," Aether glances at her and then back to you. It's silent for a moment. Paimon is super confused.
But Aether being Aether didn't want to get the wrong idea and racks up the courage to ask you one last question. "He's on a journey...to look for his twin sister?"
You smile the brightest smile you've ever given him. "Correct!"
"Ah...Well..." Aether starts to feel the heat on his cheeks. "That's..." he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just...I'm happy!"
Is basically flustered when he realizes you've technically just confessed to him.
Albedo
"Simply put, I think he's dedicated to his craft," You shrug and smile
"...An admirable trait," he responds.
"He's frequently in Dragonspine. He spends a bit of time in his lab there," you decide to just go straight for the obvious.
Albedo pauses. "I...see..." Turns to you with a small smile "I wasn't aware that you were that fond of me,"
"Now you know," you simply say and try to play it off with a wave of your hand.
He chuckles under his breath and strides over to you while saying. "Well then, I suppose it's my turn to talk about the person I've set my eyes on,"
Proceeds to describe you accurately, down to your likes and dislikes. In his eyes, you seem like something so precious and you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.
Alhaitham
"Hmm... Sort of," you explain. "He's a little...hard to reach,"
Alhaitham "...and you still pursue him?"
You laugh a bit "I'm hardly pursuing him, I'm just...observing. I like watching him, even though he has the most unreadable face I've seen,"
Alhaitham goes quiet for a moment. He catches on fast, he already has an idea but is cautious about what he says. "...I see," he doesn't ask anything else, but you continue to offer information.
"He likes reading. Really smart guy...but kind of no nonsense type. Very straight to the point," You begin to feel a little nervous so you pretend to read your own book with a small shrug.
The silence is deafening.
"I suspect that type of person will be hard to put up with," he suddenly says aloud and you chuckle in response.
"Possibly, but he seems to be putting up with me too...I guess?"
He suddenly closes his book and leans forward to pry the one in your hands away. He locks his gaze with you. "...'Putting up' is hardly the word I would use." his lips twitch the slightest bit before continuing. "He has little to no patience for other people...so if he keeps you around...perhaps it signals something else,"
"Something else...As in, I'm special?"
Again he quiets for a moment, before he stands up, chair scraping the floor. "...Precisely," he turns to start walking out of the library, waving a hand behind him. "I'll pick you up in the morning tomorrow,"
Ayato
"I do, but he's a very busy sort of man,"
Ayato "Is that so?" he pours tea for you.
"Quite. He's also a very important person,"
He hums and watches the billowing steam from the tea. "It sounds as if I might know this person," but he genuinely doesn't know it's him, he just thinks its another noble.
"...You most definitely know him. He has a sister. Lovely girl." This is where you avert your gaze from him in fear of him instantly connecting the dots.
He talks in pauses "A...sister..." His mind is starting to make connections but he can't be quite sure yet. So he prods further. "...Does she happen to have a vision?"
"A cryo vision holder, yes," you're biting the inside of your lip at this point. There's a moment of silence before you hear Ayato laughing rather gleefully, like he was amused by a story.
"I see." he ends with a chuckle. "I apologize for being so busy, Y/N," he smiles at you "I promise I'll do my best to arrange my priorities in order to spend more time with you,"
Baizhu
"He takes his job too seriously and can be quite reckless...Sometimes he even puts himself in danger,"
Changsheng catches on immediately. The snake had already known for a while. Baizhu was just being dense. "Oh here we go," the snake half whines.
Baizhu gives it a weird look before turning his attention back to you. "That does sound reckless,"
"I've told him a couple of times to think about himself too...but I guess he's just really passionate about his job,"
Baizhu sort of shrugs, "What IS his job?"
"...Well for starters he owns a pharmacy around town,"
To Baizhu the realization hits all too slowly. It's not that he was slow or dense, but he was having a hard time believing that it was him you were talking about, specially when you hadn't said it outfront.
"...You do realize I'm the only one who owns a pharmacy around town?" he asks, eyes piercing through you and awaiting your answer.
Changsheng is the one who answers for you. "Yes you ridiculous doctor, Y/N's pertaining to you!"
It's the first time you've seen him blush and he turns his head away when he does so. "I-I see, well...that's rather, unexpected...but not unwelcome,"
Clears his throat "Just give me a moment"
Changsheng would roll its eyes if it could.
Bennett
"Has a lot of energy...Sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it. I really like him for that though."
Deflates as soon as you start talking about your "crush". What kind of answer was he expecting anyway? That you had eyes for him?
"He has a bit of a...problem when it comes to luck," you continue
Bennett stops, you look at him and you can practically see the gears in his head starting to turn a little faster.
"Y-Y/N? Are you talking about..." then the gears suddenly stop. "Oh what am I saying, it can't be. Ahahaha! Let's go!" starts walking again as if nothing happened
Your jaw drops and you're forced to just DIRECTLY tell him you're talking about him.
"...Oh...Oh! F-For real?! Oh...Sorry... I just thought... there's no way! B-But, I'm really glad! Really!"
Chongyun
"Hmm...He's a little shy...but he's very responsible,"
Chongyun stares at you intently and nods as if taking notes.
"He doesn't like spicy stuff,"
Chongyun nods twice, eagerly.
"He's very dedicated in learning about thaumaturgy,"
Chongyun blanks out, brows furrow but still nods. Slowly.
"He's really good with a claymore too!"
Chongyun stops and stares at you, you see a hint of red gracing his cheeks "Y/N...You can't possibly be...talking about... m-m-m-"
Can't seem to say it, so you outright say that it is, in fact, him.
Combusts into a tomato red
Cyno
"How do I say this...He's a pretty strict guy." The two of you are playing Invokation TCG during this convo.
"Mmhmm..." Cyno is focused on his cards, frankly he doesn't give a craps ass who you're into. He didn't even know why he asked, he just dug himself a hole.
"...but he really only takes his work seriously. It's his job to be serious, I guess. I think that's what Matras need to do," he finished his turn and its yours now, though he's still studying his cards intently. Until you get to the Matra part.
"He's a Matra?" You rarely see a surprised face on Cyno so you focus your gaze on him. "Which one?" He further asks. Honestly he looks about to murder someone.
You blank out a bit at how intense his stare was, "Well...You know. That one, the one who's really into Invokation TCG,"
He immediately follows up without missing a beat "I don't know anyone else who's into--" then it clicks.
It was so damn silent for a good 10 seconds. You clear your throat, tear your eyes off him "Um, it's your turn,"
STILL doesn't budge until he finally goes back to his cards with a whisper, you can't really tell but he looks slightly bashful and you can barely, BARELY hear him "...If I win then we go on a date,"
"Okay, and if you lose?"
Cyno "...I'm not gunna lose,"
"See, I told you he's a really serious guy,"
Dainsleif
"I think he's a very dedicated person," you get lost in thought a little, thinking about him. "Whenever I look at him...Sometimes I feel as if there's a certain sadness in him... Perhaps he blames himself for not being able to protect his nation,"
He IMMEDIATELY knows. And he knows that you hurt for him too. How could he not?
"He searches for answers... I don't know for how long, I suppose a long, long time," you close your eyes, imagining how long he must have been wandering Teyvat.
You only open your eyes when you feel a hand brush against yours. He's looking straight at you, neither happy nor sad. "...You don't have to feel that way, for my circumstances,"
The brush against your hand disappears and reappears next to your cheek, his fingers gently resting on it "...Knowing that you feel that way, has taken away some of the burden that I shoulder,"
His gaze suddenly hardens and his voice drops to a whisper, "But please, just don't end up in the same way as everyone else,"
Diluc (I don't know why I end up writing a whole novel for this guy. I guess he's my OG favourite)
You pause for a moment, wondering how to describe Diluc. "...Sometimes... I feel as if I know a lot about him and yet... he's still far off in the distance,"
Diluc, rifling through paperwork, doesn't even look at you. "...That tells me nothing about him," there's a bit of bite in his statement.
You sigh a little, "I mean, simply said he's a hardworking man. He always has Mondstadt's best interests in mind...but he prefers to work alone,"
He's silent, but you can still hear the paper shuffling.
"....but people love him. They care for him. I suppose I understand why he keeps a distance but..." at this point you don't even realize that you're just rambling and staring into space. Sort of in a daze of thinking out loud. "...isn't it lonely? ...I suppose I shouldn't assume how he feels. Maybe he's fine with it...I just wonder how long till he sees us..." there's silence, no ruffle of papers, you're still just staring at the bookshelf and you continue in a monotone voice. "...or sees me,"
You blink, and all of a sudden its as if a magic spell is cast on you and you wake up to the reality that you've been rambling about him. You sit up straight "Oh," then turn to him with a careful smile. You don't think he knows what or who you're talking about anyway. "I better get going," you stand, "Jean must be waiting for me."
You leave, and he doesn't stop you.
You don't really think anything of it, feeling as if your whole monologue was very vague...but to your surprise he knocks at your door in the evening, there's a bit of rain falling.
"Diluc? You're drenche--"
"I see you,"
The determination in his voice lulls you to keep quiet and only stare up at him, wondering if he had more to say, but instead of saying something, he leans in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, as if he had been defeated.
You only welcome his embrace, and, for the first time in a long time. Diluc finally feels like he's home.
Gaming
"Passion!" You nod your head as you say it. "He knows what he wants to do and is incredibly dedicated to it!"
Gaming looks surprised, has no idea you're talking about him. "Huh! That's really cool!" He thinks he's the total opposite. "Wish I could be as dedicated as him."
You kind of laugh out loud and he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "What?"
"Gosh you really sell yourself short," you shake your head "Anyway, this guy, right, he kinda works two jobs," you put out your hand to count one and two "One, for the Secure Transport Agency and two, he's in a Wushou Troupe,"
Gaming instantly straightens his back and looks at you wide-eyed. You figure you had to be direct when it came to him otherwise he'd never get it with how modest he was.
"...You're...talking about...me?" You smile at him sympathetically.
"You know, Gaming, I wish you saw yourself the way others saw you. You're a great person,"
Big smile, but legit looks like he's about to cry. "Between the two of us? I think you're greater Y/N,"
Heizou
"...Honestly he's kind of a flirt," you raise your eyebrows at the fact and kind of question yourself why you like this kind of person. "Makes me wonder if he does that to everyone, you know?"
Heizou hums and puts his hand under his chin in a "thinking position"
"That's not enough evidence to go by. Perhaps we can investigate this guy together to see if he's worthy,"
You look at him, pursing your lips while musing and giving him a suspicious look. You're not sure if he's figured it out.
He's got no idea. I mean, it was a pretty general description. "Any distinguishing features?" he asks.
You look at him in a deadpan manner. "Red hair, I guess. And moles under his eyes,"
He looks back at you with a matching blank face.
Then breaks into a wide, close eyed grin. "I see! From experience, that person is truly trustworthy,"
You sigh a little, "Is he though?"
He chuckles heartily. "I promise you he is," offers you his hand with a genuine smile. "Let me show you,"
Itto
"Ummm... big, tall, strong looking guy. Intimidating at first look but he's actually a dork," you explain.
Itto crosses his arms above his chest with an unamused face. "Tch! No way! Ain't no one taller than me in Inazuma!" Then he looks smug again. "Anyway, keep goin'. What else?" Only asked you because he wants to see what your "type" is.
"...Popular? Nah... Infamous is the word, I think. He kinda gets into a lot of trouble,"
Itto raises a brow "You serious? Whaddyou want with someone like that?" as if he wasn't a troublemaker himself.
"I mean... He also loves life and somehow always sees the good side of things."
Itto "Eh... guess that's a good thing..." folds his arms behind his head and huffs.
This guy is never gunna get it so you drop more obvious hints. "He's an oni who has his own gang."
For a split second he looked like he was going to get it, and then... "WHAT?! There's another oni who wants to challenge the Arataki Gang?"
"That's not what I--"
punches his fist onto his palm "Lead the way Y/N, let me at 'em!"
"I'm talking about you!"
"Huh?"
"Itto, there's no other oni around town!" leave it to him to make you exasperated.
He quiets for a few seconds. "...But Y/N..."
You expectantly stare at him, curious what he was going to say about your confession.
"...Did you just call me a dork?"
Of course that's what he picks up on.
When he finally processes it though, he's stoked and on an all time high.
Kaeya
"...good at talking to people, and he knows it... Exudes charisma like he breathes air," You're saying this with a glare.
He chuckles and rests his head on his fist. "Why, pray tell, do you look angry when saying that?"
"Not angry..." you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing away from him. "Just... probably a lot of people like him,"
"And you don't like that?" He smirks. He totally knows.
"...No...Well...I'm okay with it... It's just... I think he's so much more than what he shows to others,"
That, he wasn't expecting. He actually feels genuinely touched.
"Sure he jokes around a lot...Is good at making people feel comfortable...but he's also kind...and you can always count on him," there's a faraway gaze in your eyes now, a small smile on your face. "To me, he's...a safe space."
Kaeya's smile drops. It looks like he's unhappy and you think that maybe you've made a mistake. Still...there's no way he knows that it's him, right? It was kinda vague...
You're about to stand and excuse yourself but he catches your wrist easily. "...You know..." he starts, meeting you eye to eye. He looks at you as if he's looking into your soul, his eyes the gentlest you've seen them.
"You make it so hard, not to fall deeper in love with you,"
Lyney (I have no idea how this ended up so dramatic)
"He isn't exactly a trickster...but he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve,"
Lyney "Oh?" Raises an eyebrow. Something kind of clicks in him, but he shakes it off. "The good kind or the bad kind?"
You stall a little, thinking of the answer, knowing that he's Fatui. "The...good...kind,"
"You don't sound very sure," he gives you a lopsided smile.
"It's complicated," you admit. "Regardless of the circumstances though, I think he's a great magician,"
You watch his face turn into surprise quite quickly, but he still looks and feels unsure of himself. "Oh, perhaps...I can learn a thing or two from him?"
Your smile turns forced and hard. He can't be serious? He STILL doesn't know, or...what?
"I...Well..." You don't know what to say next, but he seems to get the idea.
"Sorry, have I put you in a hard place? Ahaha..." Scratches the back of his head. "My apologies, I was just curious,"
This, for some reason, really puts you off and you feel as if you've been rejected, even though you technically had not outright told him that you're talking about him.
It seems silly for you to get upset, but you are. So you stand, and make a request of him. "Can we... just pretend this conversation didn't happen?" and you give him some sort of excuse that you need to run an errand or something, and you're off, leaving him feeling...guilty. But he doesn't know why. Or does he?
Lyney would look like the type of person who would be confident about himself. But, really, as a magician, he had to be 1000% sure about something before he went ahead with it, and so...that's where his doubt stemmed from.
Lynnette is really the one who knocks some sense into him. "...and you...let Y/N leave?" after hearing the story from him.
"Oh, Lyney... Regardless of what Y/N feels... For you, next to Freminet and I, is there someone else that you love dearly?"
That's how he ends up at your doorstep. Though you've seen his disappearing rose trick hundreds of times, he was the most sincere at that moment, when he says sorry that he didn't get the hint and to give him a chance.
Neuvillette
"Serious person. He seems to put his work first, above all else," you say. "I respect him a lot for that,"
Neuvillette is interested in what you say, but doesn't know at all that it's him. "He does sound quite respectable," he says while looking through some files.
"A long time ago he said that he feels like he's an outsider...but really I feel like there isn't anyone who knows Fontaine the way that he does,"
Neuvillette, moves the file he was reading downwards, just to look at you questioningly. "He's from Fontaine?" this was surprising to him.
"Well...he currently resides in Fontaine, yes," you nod.
"Ah," he answered curtly. "And I have never met him?" he asks.
"...He's very busy." you bite your lip, about to say something and you know that the next sentence is the point of no return. "He's the Iudex...so it's hard to catch him,"
You swear you can hear your heart hammering in your chest.
You see him put his files down and just stare at you with a sort of...unsure look.
His shoulders relax, he wasn't even aware he had been tense that whole time. "That... must have taken a lot of consideration and courage to say," he clears his throat.
You only nod your head slowly, moving your gaze away from him with an awkward smile. Hand absentmindedly grabbing a book and flipping through the pages...you had no idea what you were doing out of nervousness.
"I apologize...I'm unfamiliar with what to do in these kinds of situations... However," he pauses and seems to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "Please don't take it as a rejection. I'd be honored to navigate this with you, if you would so graciously have me,"
Scaramouche
"He's an asshole," you bite back a laugh.
He instantly knows.
"Actually he acts all tough only to give in to his inner-kind-of-agreeable-personality,"
He snorts
"What? Am I wrong?" you challenge him. You KNOW that he knows. The two of you have been hovering around each other for a while, and there's a certain closeness between the two of you. Though that line was never crossed.
He doesn't answer you back but prods you more. "Is that all? You like that he's an asshole? Are you some type of masochist?"
You almost laugh. "No, you moron. I'm saying he has a weird way of showing he cares. He's always biting my head about not being careful enough. But if he really didn't care he wouldn't be screaming at me, you know what I mean?"
Scaramouche grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms, turning away from you.
"Say that again?" You ask, not hearing what he said.
"...I said, you're not as stupid as I thought you were," shrugs his concealed embarrassment off and turns back to you all nonchalant again. "Anyway, stop yapping and get going, we got things to do,"
Snatches your hand and starts pulling you to walk with him.
Tartaglia (I feel like this is ridiculously short but I also feel like Tartaglia would have known a LONG time ago if the two of you had the feels for each other)
"Oh man...Probably the most reckless man I know,"
Also knows. Instantly. But shuts his mouth just so he can listen to you talk about him, but it gets deep real quick.
"In my opinion he's a handsome guy. Real charming," you smirk the tiniest bit. "but I don't know if I can keep up with him, honestly. It's a little hard not knowing when he's going to come back...or if he's even gunna come back at all,"
You weren't going to hide the fact that you were scared shitless he didn't return from Fontaine for ages. You legitimately thought he had died.
Tartaglia stops you there, by suddenly cradling your cheek. "Y/N," he's wearing a pained expression. "I'm sorry,"
"Don't be, it's your job, right?" You reassure him, and shrug.
He sighs "Yes, but I'll promise this to you as I've promised my family," he smiles, the most confident smile you've seen on him. Even more confident than when he wields his blades. "I'll come back to you, I always will,"
Wriothesley
"Er... How do I say this... He kind of has some... big boss energy?"
"Oh?" he sips at his tea, glancing at you while he looks at today's paper. "So he's a bigshot?" he asks curiously.
"Somewhat, yes. Intimidating at first look, but...he just has a great sense of responsibility," you pick at the selection of cakes and cookies he has.
"Huh," he lets out in a quick huff. In the deepest, DEEPEST parts of his mind there is a NANOSECOND that he thinks its him but it gets erased so quickly he's not even sure that he had thought about it.
"Sounds like a good person... Any interesting, weird quirks?" he grins as he says this, yet again glancing at your expression.
Your lips tremble a bit at what you're about to say, because you're SURE he was going to get it once you say it. You gulp and feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand before you say out loud "He likes tea. I kind of wonder if it's an addiction," you can't meet his eyes.
He's looking at the paper he's reading but nothing.registers.in.his.brain.its.like.it.stopped.working.
You shift in the uncomfortable silence but he calmly folds up the newspaper and places it on his table. "...I'm inclined to ask, because it would be embarrassing if I got the wrong idea,"
"Mmhmm," you pop a cookie in your mouth to distract yourself.
"By any chance, are you...talking about me?"
"Mm," you nod your head, still not looking at him and glue your eyes on the cookies instead, out of embarrassment.
Suddenly chuckles. You brave a peek at him, now covering his eyes with a single hand, head tipped back to rest on his chair.
You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing.
"Sorry, no, it's just... I didn't think it would happen this way." Visibly takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. Seems to have regained his composure and is back to his confident self, smiling at you. "Thanks Y/N, I... don't think it's much of a secret that I enjoy your company too. I'm just a little embarrassed that you beat me to it...some big boss energy huh?"
Xiao
"...He takes on everything by himself. I worry about him," You look at the stars as you say this. Xiao doesn't say anything.
"But I'm glad that he's opening up a lot more now. It's great to see him among friends,"
Xiao has a feeling at this point, that its him you're talking about, but he still doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze in front of him rather than on you.
"Yes, the road in front of him is long but...he's also already come a long way," you sigh a little "The time of Rex Lapis has long gone, but he still sticks to his principles. I think his dedication is part of what I like about him,"
This is when he turns to you, blank look on his face, contemplating on what to do. When you turn to meet his gaze, its then that he decides to bridge the gap between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, leaning in sideways to catch your lips in a chaste and rather shy kiss.
"You should give a bit of credit to yourself, for putting up with me all these years, Y/N,"
End!
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.
Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:
Ko-Fi
buymeacoffee
Here’s the Masterlist
4K notes · View notes
shooting-love-arrows · 5 months
Text
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 x reader (gender not mentioned/implied/specified); SYNOPSIS: Your first meeting with him was anthing but charming. Especially when he cornered you to the point, where you know you'll have no choice but to submit. TW. implied age gap, manipulation, threatening (?), red flag, power imbalance;
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"How can I help you, sir?"
"Be my sugar baby."
You blinked owlishly, trying to process what this customer said and if it was on the menu. When in fact it turned out that it isn't and you connected the words and their meaning, you were ready to burst out laughing.
He can't be serious.
Just by looking at him, you can tell he occupies a high position in some fancy corporation. You were even ready to bet that he was a CEO! It was a mystery itself why he was here, in a food chain restaurant in the first place. An enigma why he even said something like that to you, a plain worker who is pretty much opposite in every aspect one could think of.
He is handsome, you give him that. Probably older than you, since his face was more defined and mature. His suit, which you imagned to be tailor-made, colonge that was so strong you could smell it from behind the counter and all the expensive accesories (I mean look at his watch! Worth univesity tuition installment or two!) he had on were probably worth more than what you owned now.
But no, you aren't stupid. Sleep deprived, yes. Hungry, yes. Broke, also unfortunately, yes. But not stupid.
This man must be high then. No other sane and sober and filthy rich man would propose something like that to the (broke) food chain worker during the first meeting.
You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. He is still your client and you are fighting to be this employee of the month. You can already envision your photo hanging by the cashier and feel the additional money in your bank account. You won't lose your cool now.
Instead, you plastered your best fake smile.
"I'm afraid that's not on our menu sir. Do you fancy something else?"
The man chuckled, as if you told the best and poshest joke known to mankind. Your eyebrow twitched, yet your smile didn't budget.
Calm down...he is high...let him laugh...employee of the month...additional money...!
"You're more amusing than I thought." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Trust me sweetie, I love how you call me 'sir' but that doesn't change the fact that my request still stays. I want you to be my sugar baby."
"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir."
"Ho ho, everything is possible." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 hid his hands in the pocket of his pants. He was staring down at you, like you were the most interesting thing he saw in a long while. You began to feel uneasy and slightly curled into yourself. You didn't like how mischievous his smirk looked.
A beat of tense silence passed, before he spoke again.
"I won't back down, sweetie. You know, I've learned that when you really want something, you should fight for it till you'll achieve it. This situation is no different than a business. I provide you safety and money, while you agree to be mine and fulfill my (every) requests." He finished his speech with a smile worth a million dollars, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth.
"Sir -- "
"After all, you wouldn't want your current life to crumble, hm?" You froze when his expression became sinister and his voice lowered to the point of mocking. In your gut you began to feel dread. You knew this feeling bery well. It appears whenever you sense danger. Currently, this man in front of you was a person who you should be afraid of. One thing for sure, he wasn't lying when he said he can destroy you in a matter of one call.
Money rules the world.
"Your measly, little thing, who believes something will change. That it is just a stepping stone. But what if I make it your prison? Force you to be stuck here until you break under pressure? In the end, you'll still agree to be mine, sweetie. It depends on you if you want to suffer or not."
And destroy those who are too weak and gets crushed under its ruthless rule.
"This choice is yours." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 straightened his back and only now you realized he was holding a sheet of paper. "All you have to do is to sign this..."
You knew you have no choice.
"So pick carefully, sweetie."
Tumblr media
All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
5K notes · View notes
Text
What You Do To Me - LN
Ok I'm actually combining two requests for this one - @sneezypup Lando X Reader who hogs the blankets....👉🏻👈🏻 and @hamm3tt can u pls do either morning voice Lando and like the reader loves it and he doesn’t realize at first.
I think they'll work well together.
Themes: Fluff, cockwarming ;)
Tumblr media
Lando loves his girlfriend. But sometimes, and just sometimes, he wants to strangle her (and no not in some kinky sexy way).
She's a blanket hog.
Yanks it off of him leaving him exposed and freezing.
Monaco might be considered generally warmer than England, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need a blanket at night.
He spends half his night in a tug of war with her that she's not even aware of. She entirely sleeps through it till either morning comes or till Lando quite literally lies on top of her just so she can't possibly find a way to steal the blanket.
"Y/n, I love you. But I'm going to kill you." Lando grumbles, more to himself but also to her sleeping body as he yet again yanks the blanket back over himself.
Earlier in their relationship, he was a lot softer and considerate about it. But now he's learned that gets him nowhere.
After yanking the blanket her hauls y/n towards himself, practically allowing her to body slam him. Hardly stirring her from her sleep before he passes out too.
By the time morning rolls around he feels her rolling over away from him, dragging the blanket away from his body as she moves. It's amazing that she doesn't even try to steal the blanket and still manages to yank it from him.
"Y/n y/l/n." Lando states in a gravelly morning voice. "I'm going to kill you."
Y/n turns looking at him with a shy smile then quickly kissing him a couple times.
"What did I do to you this time?"
"Baby-" Ever had a man's voice turn you into an absolute melt? Because y/n has. Every. Single. Morning. But when he calls her baby in his morning voice...CHILLS. "-I'm going to start putting you in one of those restraint jackets."
"'M sorry." Y/n pouts since she really doesn't mean to. "I'm just so used to sleeping on my own when you're gone and before we got together properly."
It has only been two months since y/n moved in with Lando and before that she lived back in England where Lando did sleep with her but it wasn't a nightly issue they were face with. Now it's much more frequent.
Y/n sighs trying to figure out a way to make use of his morning voice. But sadly Lando isn't all that much of a talker in the morning, so she's deprived of it.
-
The next morning is no different, only this time Lando did move to just lie on top of y/n and pin her down. Preventing her from even trying to move never mind reach for the blanket.
"Good morning." Lando's husky voice mumbles, hot breath hitting her ear as he wakes her up.
"Fuck me." Y/n whispers to herself.
The feeling of waking up to her boyfriend's body completely pressed against her with very few and very thin layers between them is honestly a nice way to wake up but she really would happily climb on him.
"What?" Lando laughs making her look at him. "What did you say?"
"I-" Y/n choke son her words, the sound of his morning voice still having such an effect on her that she really doesn't know how else to react. "Lie back please."
"What? Why?"
"Lando, please. Please, just lie back." Y/n rambles pushing him back and shocking him a little before she climbs on top of him pushing his boxers down and her own underwear aside to then slide down on his length that is thankfully semi-hard. "Fuck."
Lando lets a few beats of silence pass wondering what she's about to do next but finds she's just sitting there with her eyes closed and when she leans forward against him, he sort of just rubs her sides.
"Better?" He questions making her look at him swallowing thickly and looking pretty embarrassed with herself.
"Yeah, much better...sorry." Y/n mumbles earning a small smirk.
"I'm not complaining." Lando shrugs before he leans forward and kisses her. "Just wondering why?"
"It's going to sound stupid." Y/n murmurs earning a frown. "It's something about your voice in the morning...I don't know. It just makes me want to be like this. I'd say morning sex but I'm too lazy for that."
Lando can't even stop himself from laughing as she looks at him.
"Alright, baby. Well I'm more than happy for us to have this as a morning ritual. Even if your annoying arse keeps stealing blanket off of me." Lando chuckles then kissing her temple while she rests her head on his shoulder. "It's pretty comfortable."
"Yeah, well I'm enjoying it." Y/n hums before she yawns a little.
"So...it's my voice in the morning that makes you need to have me inside you...I think I might need to hear more."
"No. You just keep talking in the mornings and we'll be good."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie
2K notes · View notes
getosbigballsack · 29 days
Text
Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
2K notes · View notes
viviennevermillion · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
When they want attention
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: spontaneous idea. gonna get to my request once i'm done with the 7k words jing yuan commission i received so look forward to that, the jing yuan stans are getting fed. dan heng has his dragon form in this one.
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: still into you — paramore
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, sampo, yaoshi
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The former Xianzhou craftsman was mysterious in many different ways but one thing you knew for sure was that he was way too scarred and emotionally stunted to just go ahead and ask you for your attention and love. He does sometimes but it's only on days when he's been doing particularly bad and his mara-struck self has been coming through more and he feels like your touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. He'd sneak up to you and quietly ask whether you'd mind to just hold him for a while. You never mind. But on regular days?
When Blade is just touch-starved and wants attention, he doesn't even initiate it. The only reason you notice is because he doesn't leave your side even though you're busy and working. He just keeps sitting close to you and staring at you from the side as if he wants something but when you ask him if he needs anything, he shakes his head and says it's important that you focus on your work.
It takes you a while to realize what's up with him. But when you eventually put your work aside for a moment to open your arms to him, he melts into your embrace and you can hear him let out a relieved sigh once he feels your warmth and gentle touch.
Sometimes you dare tease him about it. "Seems you just wanted my love. You know you can have that whenever you want, right?", you chuckle and kiss his temple. Blade chooses not to comment on it and to just keep enjoying your affection.
Kafka can also always tell when he's needy for attention and feels free to inform you when that's the case. She'll stand in the door to your room and gently knocks on the door frame. You look up to her with a questioning look. "Your boyfriend is cranky again. Do something about it", she says with a slight smile on her face. Blade readily accepts your affection when you seek him out after that, melting into your kiss and smiling against your lips. Just don't tell him Kafka sent you.
Tumblr media
Honestly Dan Heng's sudden transformation was a lot to get used to for everyone on the Astral Express but you in particular now had to deal with his dragon instincts when he wanted your affection. Usually he suppresses them but when he's tired he doesn't always stop himself from getting a little clingy.
You had to admit that this new side to him was quite amusing. Sometimes you'd be working until late at night and Dan Heng would just gently bonk you with his head from the side to get your affection.
Oftentimes he'd wrap his arms around you from behind and nuzzles your neck for a while. Usually when he's very, very sleep-deprived. You'll feel his breath on your neck and his lips leaving quick pecks on your skin repeatedly. Sometimes you'll lightly feel his tongue against your neck too when he kisses you there. He has his face buried in your neck now and it doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon.
He purrs now. The first time you hear this your eyes widen and you slow-blink for a bit, having to do a double take that you're not imagining this. You don't even dare point it out to him. Not when he's being this cute. So you just accept it and kiss his lips first before pressing them to each of his horns, resulting in Dan Heng trying to snuggle even closer. You suppress a chuckle and start gently caressing the tail he apparently slapped into your lap for you to play with.
He apologizes later for getting a little too clingy there but he smiles when you shake your head and reassure him you quite enjoyed him being this affectionate. He might do this more often now, seeing how much it makes you swoon and how happy it seems to make you.
Tumblr media
Unlike Dan Heng and Blade, Sampo shamelessly asks for your attention everytime he craves it. He's very overdramatic about it too. He wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind while you're working and kisses your cheek repeatedly to ease you into the idea of leaving your work just standing around and tending to your touch-starved boyfriend. "Honey...", he coos and kisses the spot below your ear repeatedly, "you see, Sampo Koski has had a very rough day. First I had to run from the Silvermane Guards again, then my bag broke and all my relics fell into the dirt and then it started to rain and a client threw a fish at me and told me to die." You roll your eyes, your eyes falling on his bag, standing perfectly fine in the corner of the room.
"What I really mean to say is I could really use some love right now", he looks down with an obviously fake sad expression and wipes a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, "my heart is broken and I'm not sure it will ever recover."
If you indulge him, he'll happily take up all the space in your arms and just lets you pamper him for a while. If you push him away and insist that you need to focus here, he starts kicking the sob story up a notch. "Pretty please", he whines and takes your hands into his, "you see, as a child my parents never told me they loved me-" "Ugh, Sampo", you let out a frustrated sigh. If you look into his eyes and tell him in all seriousness that you'd really like to finish your work first, he concedes but usually you're too amused with him to not at least give in a little.
"Okay fine, you get 10 minutes but then I really need to continue my work", you open your arms for him and 10 minutes quickly turn into 20 or 30. You muse that you can still do your work tomorrow.
Tumblr media
If you're not a clingy person, I advise you to not indulge Yaoshi and reciprocate their feelings because while they respect the things you care about and are passionate about and would never want to make you angry at them, they're very high-maintenance when it comes to receiving affection. Yaoshi always backs off when you tell them to but internally they also want affection constantly.
If you thought Sampo was overly clingy, Yaoshi is a whole new brand of desperate. I mean, they could have shaken our hand or patted us on the head upon meeting us, but no, they chose to go straight for the lips and this is a pattern that carries through even after getting together with you.
Yaoshi won't just ask if you have some time to spare for them, Yaoshi will straight up plant themselves onto your lap and attempt to make out with you. Sometimes they're successful, sometimes they aren't.
In general the fact that there is a time and place for passionate kissing is something that Yaoshi needs to learn. You'll be in public and they'll try this and you tell them that you can do this later. Yaoshi waits until you're in a different public location and then asks again whether this is now a suitable place to kiss you. Don't even give them one kiss in public. Don't give them an inch, they'll attempt to take a mile. They listen when you tell them this isn't the time or place for kisses but if you give them a quick peck to the lips, in their mind, which is very much not adjusted to societal norms, this means "okay so now is the time for kisses" so they'll try to give you more kisses.
When you tell them you have work to do, Yaoshi asks you when they can expect you to be done with your work. "About 2-3 hours", you tell them and pat their head gently. Yaoshi nods and disappears. A couple of minutes later you can smell something burnt from the other room. "Yaoshi?", you call out worried, checking up on them.
You find them holding your burning alarm clock in both of their hands. "My dearest, I was trying to 'set an alarm' as you always do", they have a sad expression on their face and a tear runs down their cheek, "it seems I have accidentally vanquished your strange little nightingale. I hope you can forgive me one day."
"What were you even trying to set an alarm for?" Yaoshi looks up at you. "You said you'd be done in 2-3 hours."
You let out a sigh and caress their cheek gently. "We can buy a new one and I'll show you how to use it", you shake your head, wondering what you expected from dating a literal god who usually spends their time on a different plane of existence, "but we should probably get rid of this one."
Yaoshi obliges and the alarm clock is gone in an instant. "It is in a better place now", they explain. You decide you don't have the mental energy right now for the discussion that would result from asking what exactly 'a better place' is. For now you let Yaoshi sit or lay down on your lap while you do the rest of your work, your fingertips gently drawing circles onto their shoulders.
2K notes · View notes
ew-selfish-art · 8 months
Text
DPxDC AU: Tim receives an interesting email from DalvCo explaining why the CEO is not to be trusted- It's an internal email and suddenly Tim is experiencing supernatural phenomena. He knows that the two events are absolutely related, but he's going to let the cutie stumble his way through data points and vague threats anyway.
(Sorry this got long lmao)
Tim is exhausted after a long night of staking out a new drug cartel with Hood (which in itself took a lot of energy from both of them to have the patience for the other- things are good, not great)... so right now he's logging into his WE email on the train to his office because he's incredibly late. And while he scrolls and contemplates the failsafes he has to make sure Tam doesn't murder him outright- he sees an unexpected email from Vladimir Masters.
Tim's curiosity is piqued, he'd thought that Vlad would have gotten the hint after Tim dismissed him at that Christmas gala a few years ago. Most people took Tim's snubbing as a fatality in the Gotham socialite scene- Most knew him to be 'an agreeable young man', and Tim's reputation had paid a small price for making Vlad's failed vibe check known to the room. The tabloids blamed it on the champagne glass he had in his hand- Has he mentioned how much he hates Vicky Vale lately??
Tim has a few stops to go and he's pretty sure that he's going to delete the email, but in sleep deprived inspiration, he decides it might as well entertain him while he waits. The letter isn't at all what he expected.
"Hello Wayne Enterprise's CEO Tim Drake, I'm sending you this letter on behalf of the entire Midwest to advise that you, under no circumstances, come into contact with or speak to the CEO of DalvCo Vlad Masters. He is underhanded and utilizes untraceable tactics to procure deals. We have reason to believe you may be targeted in the next few days and hope that you are able to take steps for your own safety to avoid Vlad Masters at all costs.
Sincerely, 👑"
Tim feels bewildered for a moment and then... Like a cat with a new toy mouse. A game was afoot! He needed to track down these hackers, he needed to be their best fucking friend (find out their secrets & Vlads) and he needed to apprehend Vlad ASAP! Untraceable tactics? Tim scoffs, but the challenge excites him.
Arriving at WE, Tam looks ready to throw a knife his way (he reminds her that Pru does it better) and states that if Vlad Masters tries to make an appointment- accept it but give him the run around. Make an appointment and continue to contest it, change it, delay it until Tim is actually ready for him. The lights start to flicker, both of them notice it.
Everytime Tim gets a second to investigate Vlad in his office, the room's temperature drops. Tim notices it, and having experienced a number of supernatural phenomena, he knows it has to be related.
Tim decides not to beat around the bush. He comes back to the office that night equipped with a Ouija board, candles and a bag of other occult accessories. He quickly finds, upon setting up, that there is now a groaning Teenager in front of him- lambasting his efforts and chastizing him for taking a meeting with Vlad. Did he not get the fuckin memo??
Tim quickly begins to ask his questions, grateful to not have to deal with the party game board, and takes diligent notes.
"Right, so, you're just a concerned citizen ghost who knows what kind of nefarious deeds Vlad gets up to, how?" ---
Danny is losing his shit. Here he is, having done all the ground work to tell this guy not to meet with Vlad and he's already got him on the schedule! Danny took a page from Technus' book and transported himself alongside the short email. He didn't get this guy at all! Tim was like, basically the same age and clearly super fucking smart, why was he acting like this was a fucking birthday gift? Scratch that, the dude has a Ouija Board- it's like a lame ass birthday party in here!
Danny cannot help himself but return to the visible spectrum and give this guy a talking to- Which, the atmosphere of a birthday party still doesn't change, for ancient's sake this guy is taking notes with a megawatt smile! He's smiling! Danny just described Vlad taking down like, three American dynasties and the dude is nodding his head along gleefully.
Then suddenly, Danny realizes that he might be on the chopping block. Tim asks his first question and it's not about Vlad at all.
"Er, yeah. Just a concerned ghost citizen." Danny cringes.
"Right, and that's why you hacked into the Mayor of your town's email... Right Tucker?"
Danny blanches, not because the guy knew about Amity Park, but because apparently Tucker's online persona had been compromised. SHIT.
"Uh, I'm not Tucker." Danny attempts to lie- why was he so bad at lying again?!
"Of course you aren't, he's currently playing doomed, but it would have been smart to take the out I offered you. Do you want to tell me your name or do you want me to throw out another random guess? You should know that I've done my homework."
"...It's Danny."
"Certainly not Danny Fenton? Who is, sorry to say it, heir to DalvCo? The same one who totally doesn't have a school record of absences equivalent to well documented town hauntings?"
"Yep." Danny cringes, and giving up the goat, transforms back into his human self, "But seriously dude, you can't meet with Vlad. He'll just... take it all."
Tim blinks at him a few times, and his cheeks flush. Danny desperately tries to ignore that response as well as his own (he knows his ears are red, sue him).
"Right. Well, how would you like an internship? First order of business would be meeting with me and my PA Tam and helping us play ball." The guy has a feral grin. The grin kind of scares Danny, it definitely annoys him and a small part of him is curiously charmed.
"Dude you're not hearing me-" Danny tries before being cut off.
"Yeah yeah, supernatural bullshit is involved, Got that." Tim waves him off. Okay never mind, not charmed at all, Danny is completely annoyed.
"I swear to all the ancients-" Danny has to stop himself to calm down, "Dude consider yourself fucking haunted. I'm not helping you with a suicide mission to talk to the creep and I will be making your ass miserable for deciding to go down this path."
"Is that a promise?" Tim is basically batting his eyelashes at Danny and Danny is desperately trying to ignore that.
"Bet." And then he goes invisible.
"That's cute, pretending to leave me." Tim smirks and Danny can't help but let out an exasperated groan.
As it turns out, Tim is incredibly difficult to spook and his normal haunting methods are not fucking working. Has this guy just, like, seen every single horror movie?
----
Tim knows this is going to be fun, even if it means not going out as Red Robin for a while... Maybe he should get back into his night photography and give the guy a chance to enhance the creepiness of Gotham? Maybe start going to restaurants alone and get the guy to join him at a secluded two person table? Tim has plans on plans on plans.
2K notes · View notes
ekat-fandom-blog · 1 year
Text
Sam dragged Danny to a gala in Gotham. While he'd been excited to go, he was exhausted from fighting a few of his rogues. Make-up helped hide the bruising under his eyes, but not his overall tiredness.
Meanwhile, Tim and Jason are both just as sleep deprived as Danny, but still being forced to go to the gala. Tim is just tiredly allowing himself to be dragged along, and Jason is growling at everyone the entire time. Neither are happy.
Skip to the Gala. Danny loses Sam after she gets dragged off by her parents to meet another person. While searching for her he ends up bumping into Tim. Tim offers to help look, but they both end up just silently standing at the edge of the room hoping no one talks to either of them.
In comes Jason, absolutely seething, eyes almost green. Tim tenses, getting ready for a fight, while Danny just looks at him and is like "this dude is hangry af" and grabs a small thermos(smaller than the Fenton Thermos so he doesn't accidentally try to drink one of the ghosts.) He takes a sip and then hands it to Jason, telling him to drink.
Jason and Tim have no clue where Danny just pulled this thermos from, but figure that he's too sleep deprived to be attempting to poison anyone. So Jason takes a small sip. Then he's downing as much as he can because, damn, he didn't realize he was so thirsty until now. He doesn't even realize the stuff he's drinking is neon green.
By the time he's finished, he's calmed down significantly but is still very tired(that's what happens when you don't go to sleep for a few days.) So he sits down on the floor next to them. They all end up sitting on the floor after a bit, and Jason asks if Danny could get him more of whatever was in the thermos. Danny agrees and becomes Jason's ecto dealer.
5K notes · View notes
lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months
Text
Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Valentine's Day 💌
Miguel O'Hara x Fem wife reader
Tumblr media
Synopsis: same universe as Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Christmas. You and Miguel are married with three kids: Gabi(his), Marcus(yours), and Anthony(you two had him together). He falls back into his workaholic patterns and you two have a big fight that nearly ruins your big Valentine's Day plans. Word count 5.2k
A/N: My last piece for my Valentine's Day special! I just love this man so much lol. Enjoy! Here's the first one I posted for V Day (this fic is completely unrelated to this one)
TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT AT THE END (P IN V, FINGERING, CREAMPIE, ORAL F RECEIVING BUT DOESN'T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL, BREEDING,) FAMILY PLANNING, TALKS OF DEPRESSION, TALK OF ABUSE, ANGST, MARRIAGE TROUBLES, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, MAYBE ALLUDES TO POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, MENTION OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, OC SIBLINGS TO GABI, OC OF YOUR (READER'S) MOTHER. The OCS HAVE PRETTY MUCH LITTLE TO NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, READER'S MOTHER HAS NONE WHATSOEVER. ANTHONY FAVORS MIGUEL MORE IN TERMS OF LOOKS, THIS IS MORE DISCUSSED IN THE CHRISTMAS FIC BEFORE THIS.
-----
It was February 1st and one of the first nights you and your husband actually went to bed at the same time in weeks.
"Let's make a baby this Valentine's Day..." Miguel whispered as his large hand snaked under your arm to cup your breast. Your eyes fluttered, your phone slipped onto the ground, the spicy fanfic you were reading temporarily forgotten. You rolled your hips forward at his touch and panted softly.
"What...?"
"Hmmm....? ¿Quieres un otro niño conmigo, mi amor? (You want another child with me, my love?) He started laying hungry kisses on your neck, his breathing becoming more heavy and hot against your ear, which made you bite your lip. "We can have someone watch the kids...I'll take the day after off so we can have all night and everything..."
"Honey... the baby would be born in November?"
"Mhmmm..." Miguel was too busy caressing your now erect nipples and moving a hand to your crotch to really focus on your conversation.
"They'd be a Scorpio."
Miguel pulls back with an amused look on his face
"Baby...be serious. That's what you're worried about?"
You shrug. "I mean..."
Miguel scoffed and grabbed your breasts again. "I don't care when they're born...just want another little one running around...has your cute nose and everything..." His lips graze upwards on your neck until they come to rest on your jaw. "¿Qué dices?" (What do you say) he murmurs against your skin.
Your mind rushes with all kinds of thoughts. Anthony was quickly approaching his third birthday. You and Miguel had discussed adding just one more O'Hara to the family multiple times. It seemed like good timing. You missed the tender joy and even the sleep deprivation that a little baby brought with them.
You and Miguel had occasional quarrels over dividing housework here and there, but when it came to caring for the kids he was such a hands on father (when he wasn't going through one of his workaholic phases), that you didn't mind the extra labor a newborn demanded.
When people (rudely) asked you if you were done having kids, you couldn't give a firm no. One more child seemed like the perfect way to complete the family you and him built together. You were ready.
You look up at your husband, that irritatingly sexy smirk on his face as he gazes back down at you.
"Buy me dinner first?" You smirk back.
Miguel lets out a hearty chuckle, "I can handle that...I am a gentleman after all. Wouldn't want my pretty little wife thinking I have any ulterior motives..."
He leans down and you release more giggles as he blazes another trail of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.
"You're impossible, O'Hara..."
----
The next morning, you two start your usual routine. You throw on your signature leggings and hoodie since you have three kids to wrangle, along with the morning carpool.
Miguel is rolling up his sleeves on his sweater as he leans over to plant a kiss on Gabi's and Marcus's heads as they scarf down their Fruit Loops cereal. He has to chase down little Anthony for a minute, and Anthony squeals as Miguel plants a goodbye kiss on his small chubby cheeks that are smeared with banana puree.
"Bye, baby..." Miguel gives your booty what he thought was a discreet love squeeze along with a peck on the lips, much to Gabi's chagrin.
"Gross!"
Miguel grins and opens the door to the garage.
"Mmm- don't forget! Gabi has her book report presentation at 2 pm today!" You call after him.
Shit... Miguel remembers. That's going to be a tough one to squeeze in his already stuffed schedule. "Okay, I'll see what I can do!"
You groan silently to yourself. You knew him well enough to know there was a 99% chance he wasn't coming based on that response alone. You plaster on a fake smile and try to shrug off your worry for the kids' sake. "Alright munchkins, the magic school express is leaving for school, pronto!"
----
After dropping off Gabi, Marcus and two of the neighbors' kids at school, you drop Anthony off at your mother's for some quality time while you catch up on housework. Or at least some of the housework because you end up showering and taking a 3 hour nap. The demands of the past week finally caught up to you. You groggily shut off the alarm on your phone. The clock said noon.
You text your husband, "Are you going to make it to Gabi's presentation?"
No answer.
But, that was typical. Miguel could get quite busy at HQ and not respond for hours. Still, you kept your hopes up that this time he'd make an honest effort to be there to support Gabi.
After lunch, you go back to your mother's and visit for a bit, then you and little Anthony head over to the school for Gabi's presentation promptly at 2 pm.
Gabi breaks out into a smile when she sees you and her baby brother enter the classroom. "Sissyyy!" Anthony babbles, waving his chunky arm.
Gabi runs to the back of the class and picks up little Anthony to give him a squeeze hello, he giggles furiously, kicking his dangling feet as she spins him around. You give both kids a warm smile then take Anthony in your lap as Gabi walks to the front of the classroom.
She hesitates for a moment and her eyes dart from you and Anthony to the door, as though she was expecting someone else to walk through. You get a sinking feeling in your gut when you realize she's looking for her papa. Her face falls a little bit when the door remains closed and the class goes silent, waiting for her to begin. You look at Gabi and give her an encouraging nod, not letting any of the disappointment you're feeling make itself known on your face.
Gabi takes a deep breath and starts to give her book report presentation. You hug Anthony a little closer to your chest as you both sit and watch, silently vowing to "accidentally" forget to cook Miguel dinner tonight.
Unfortunately, that night you didn't even get the opportunity to bitch him out because he came home some time around 3 am the next morning only to have to roll out of bed 3 hours later to beat the morning rush hour.
All of the excitement and positive momentum you thought you and Miguel were building after his suggestion to spend Valentine's Day together starts to chip away, day after day. He comes home in the wee hours of the night, missing dinner, homework, and bedtime. The kids seem to notice. Marcus snaps at you as you struggle to help him with his science homework. "Daddy knows how to do this stuff! I want him to help me, not you!"
You try to act like that comment didn't sting and answer in a calm but shaky voice. "Daddy's at work. I'm doing my best to help you and I need you to speak to me in a kinder tone, please."
Marcus grunts in frustration, stomping upstairs and slamming his door.
And, to make things worse, he begins picking more fights with Gabi than usual. Doors get slammed and toys get thrown as early as 8 am when a dispute arises over who gets to pick which cartoon is playing on the TV.
In the evenings, you have to scream at the top of your lungs and separate them after they start kicking each other under the table while little Anthony wails because he hates what's being served for dinner. The night ends with everyone in tears and all three kids eventually sleeping in your bed because they're too upset to stay in their rooms.
Miguel winds up on the couch or doesn't even come home at all, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach with a painful side of resentment.
On Valentine's Day, you wake up and look over. Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are all in a pile lying against each other on Miguel's side of the bed. It's 5 am. You slide out of bed, taking care not to disrupt your sleeping babies.
You walk quietly downstairs, a storm brewing in your chest, a seething monologue you plan to unleash on your careless husband asleep on the couch again. You had his favorite bourbon, new cologne, his favorite snacks, and some new socks that you were going to set out for him to wake up to. He could forget about all of that now. He didn't even bother to get you anything, or even climb into bed with all of you at least when he got home.
You were preparing to hold his feet to the fire and ask where the hell he's been, if he's remembered he even has a family, and, if his sorry ass doesn't start coming home at a reasonable time or even issue a nearly two weeks overdue apology to Gabi for letting her down, that he can scrap your Valentine's Day plans, cancel the hotel, and you'll return all his gifts back to the store. Things haven't been this bad since Christmas when you nearly got divorced.
But, he's not there. The couch is bare. He spent another complete day and night at work. Didn't even come home so he could be there for you on fucking Valentine's Day. At this point, you just feel like crying. Frustration reached its boiling point and threatens to bubble over. You check your phone, the last text you sent to him was last night at 5 pm.
"Making dinner. Marcus is struggling with his science homework again and got upset with me. Will you please come home at a reasonable time tonight so you can talk to him about it? Are we still on for tomorrow and letting my mom watch the kids?"
The message was opened and read at 7:45 pm with no response. You walk outside onto your porch and call him, pacing back and forth restlessly as the phone rings.
----
Miguel walks through a portal back into his office at HQ, Felicia Hardy and Ben Reilly in tow. Felicia and Ben are bantering back and forth as Miguel notices an incoming call from you. Miguel's eyes are bloodshot, not having had a blink of sleep in nearly 18 hours
"Someone's in troubleee," Felicia teases. Miguel tries to brush off the comment as he nervously answers and utters a loud "FUCK!" when he realizes what today is.
Deep down, Miguel knew he had been getting worse lately. Diving head first into his work, so adamant on protecting the multiverse that he made himself blind to your needs and the needs of his children, seemingly a purposeful self-sabatoge. It was something you both unpacked early on in your relationship for you to eventually discover he had a form of depression.
A lot of it could be traced back to all those times where he was a boy who grew up way too fast as he shielded Gabriel from the obvious abuse his step dad inflicted on their family. He would take his responsibilities almost a little too seriously, always needing to be the solution to every problem, even if it meant setting himself on fire, and to the detriment of anyone close to him.
You two also battled over the age old argument the majority of married couples faced: the disproportionate division of visible and invisible labor. This was no doubt something that was ingrained in both of you growing up as a pattern that you two were fighting to try and break: the woman handles everything related to the home and kids, the permanent project manager of the family with little to no emotional assistance from the man. Meanwhile , the man works full time and makes such a healthy living that he can sustain her and multiple kids on it at once. The only domestic tasks he should be concerned with are the lawn and any random repairs around the house.
You were very supportive of his mental health of course, but it was times like these where you just needed him home, needed to feel like you didn't have to weather this storm on your own. A very distinct part of the vows you made to each other on your wedding day.
Sometimes you found yourself crying at night or when a love song came on, asking yourself if marriage was really this hard, or if love and the ideas of it that got planted in your head from an early age were just things of fiction. Something you clearly weren't meant to experience. Hell, none of the women on your side of the family did. Your grandma had a shitty marriage but stayed, your mom and dad divorced, and your aunt couldn't make any of her three marriages work.
You hear Miguel answer and you exhale with relief. "Did you get my text?..."
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, "Yeah...Happy Valentine's Day... Lo siento, mi alma..."
(I'm sorry, my soul)
You cross your arms, his greeting and weak apology completely going over your head. "So, where the hell have you been? What have you been up to? I've said maybe 10 words to you in the past nearly two weeks. I've been doing this all by myself..." Your voice thickens and you begin to cry at last, "If you're hurting again you need to tell me..."
Miguel starts to interrupt you but you bulldoze over him, not letting him put out the fire that was lit underneath you. "I need you home. The kids need you home. I am not celebrating Valentine's Day with you in a hotel room tonight if you do not come home at a reasonable time this afternoon to see the kids before we need to drop them off at my mom's."
At that point, Ben makes Felicia giggle loudly in the background. The tone is flirtatious and breathy. The sound is awfully incriminating as it comes through on the other line. Miguel shoots a frantic, pissed off look in their direction.
Your heart does a death drop from your chest to your stomach as you hear it. The deep seated insecurity that always hung in the very back of your mind that liked to make unwelcome appearances, usually at the worst of times in your marriage. An unpleasant symptom of having a husband who was exceedingly physically attractive to practically anyone who laid eyes on him.
The fear he would eventually tire of you and leave you high and dry for someone else. Someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone who wasn't bogged down by responsibilities. Someone who hadn't shown him the worst of who they could be. Someone whose personality was more contagious than yours. Someone more intelligent and successful. Someone who was everything you weren't.
"Who the hell is that...?" you ask through clenched teeth.
Miguel's hand comes up, covering nearly his entire face as he weakly tries to defend himself. "That was....Felicia..."
Felicia. Of fucking course. Here we go again...You hadn't worried about her since the last argument you two had over Christmas when Miguel foolishly decided to throw it in your face that she was more pleasant to be around as a mindless way to hurt you in that moment.
The tiniest seed of insecurity planted that would cause you to spiral with overthinking whenever her name was mentioned, even when you knew she really had a thing for Ben and Miguel put in work to reassure you of the fact that you were still the sole apple of his eye. Miguel had probably just reset whatever progress you two made since then ten steps backwards.
He frantically tries to save himself on the phone but you're already checking out as we speak. "But Ben's here too! Ben's here, too! Babe! We were on Earth-5129, we've been stuck on missions that take all day. Their Sinister Six has been causing all sorts of problems. I'm not alone with anyone, baby, I swear to God. I just got carried away with work-"
"Oh, oh you got carried away alright..." Your tears are hot and salty streaks on your cheeks. "The kids and I will be staying at my mom's. Have fun on your little mission."
"Baby don't hang up I swear to God-..."
You hang up and set your phone down on the ground, crouching down so your head is in your hands and you're squatting in a near fetal position, not moving much except your shoulders gently shaking, causing you to try and rock in a soothing motion as you sob uncontrollably.
You cry and cry. You cry for yourself. You cry at the fact that you feel like a single married mother. You cry because you're frustrated you're not good enough at math to help Marcus with his homework. You cry at the memory of Gabi's disappointed, sad face when she had to give her presentation without her favorite person there to watch. You cry about your body and how you haven't felt beautiful lately, that unkind, irrational thought that perhaps if you were prettier, then Miguel would pay more attention.
You cry about not having enough time in the day to do the things you want to do and how motherhood literally has no breaks to just let you breathe. You cry about Miguel and how this marriage at times feels harder than it should be, wondering what happened to the man you married and just wanting him back.
After several minutes, you just sit and stare at the slightly overcast morning, the cold slowly announcing its presence, your emotions and stress had rendered you insensitive to its chill for most of the time you were out there. You tug your fingers into the sleeves of your pajamas and waddle back inside, pausing at the main floor bathroom. You make sure there is no evidence of tears before you get your kids ready for another day, determined to at least make their Valentine's Day magical even if yours was already off to a shit start. Emotions can wait, motherhood doesn't stop.
----
Later that night, Gabi and Marcus are passed out in the guest bedroom at your mom's, sugar high worn off once again, and little Anthony is snoozing peacefully in your mom's lap. She quietly rocks him in the recliner in her living room, her nose buried in a book.
She hears Miguel enter quietly, and she looks up. Disapproval obvious in her expression as she bookmarks her spot.
You didn't tell her you and Miguel were fighting, but she knows her daughter well enough to know something was wrong, and he was the cause.
Miguel greets her in a hushed tone so as to not wake Anthony. "Thank you for watching the kids tonight..."
Your mom acknowledges with a curt nod of her head. Miguel sits down. Before he can speak, your mom interrupts. "She's at the hotel..." She pauses, letting Miguel absorb the information. "She wouldn't tell me the truth, but I know my daughter well enough to know she's hurt."
Miguel takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... I messed up big time."
Your mom continues, "All the kids are asleep. If I were you, I'd go fix it..." She takes a deep breath of her own, Anthony stirs a little. "I love you like a son, Miguel. But, I'm gonna say this nicely: you work too much. One day, before you know it, these sweet kids are gonna be all grown up, and you and your wife won't even know what to talk about anymore because you never made your marriage a priority."
Miguel nods slowly, taking in her words.
"Don't become strangers in your marriage like I did." Your mom says, looking sincerely into Miguel's eyes. It clicks for Miguel at last, and he knows what he needs to do. He just prays that you'll even let him get close enough to let you hear him out.
Miguel gives your mom a warm smile of appreciation and a stroke to Anthony's hair before he ventures out into the February air, off to go win your heart back once again.
----
You're curled up in the king sized bed in the executive suite of one of the fanciest hotels nearby. You and Miguel stayed there the night before you eloped, and it was your first time staying there since. You would have cancelled the room altogether, but it was too late by the time Miguel messed up, so you figured you'd enjoy it, even if you had to do it alone, dammit. If you were going to cry, then at least you'd be doing it while wearing the hotel's fancy bathrobe on the top floor with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.
You popped one in your mouth to try and distract from your tears that threatened to leak once again as you watched Letters to Juliet on the flat screen TV. You sniffed loudly, and there was a loud booming knock at the door.
You stayed right where you were, having a hunch it was your husband crawling back, biting another chocolate covered strawberry, this time chasing it with a longer sip of champagne.
The knocks get louder and you mutter a "shit" when you hear Miguel start calling your name, his fist relentless against the heavy oak door. You get up cautiously, creeping towards the knocking.
"Abre la puerta, cariño, por favor!!!" (Open the door, dear, please!) Miguel yells. "Stop doing this shit baby, I'M YOUR HUSBAND! TALK TO ME!"
The neighbors across the hall open up their door and start chastising him. Something about "keep it down people are trying to sleep", "this is the first night we've had away in MONTHS", "take your relationship problems outside", to which Miguel loudly hisses it's none of their goddamn business.
You open the door, yank your disheveled, tall ass husband into your room, and slam it in the face of the Karens. Problem solved. You huff and turn around, making your way back to your champagne throne, not saying a word.
Miguel makes a loud sigh, trying to settle from 100 back to 0. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry..." His brown locks are unkempt, a little bit of stubble peppers his chin. His crimson eyes are surrounded by little bloodshot lines. In his hands he has a slightly wilted bouquet of pink roses, one of the last bundles they had available at the grocery store, and in the other, a little pack of caramel Ghirdadellis being held by a tiny stuffed gray hippo.
You take the stuffed animal from Miguel with a neutral expression on your face. "He can stay," you wiggle the hippo in your hand. "But you can't. "
Miguel groans. "Baby, NOTHING happened. I swear on our children."
You raise an eyebrow at the bold statement. "On our children?"
Miguel sits on the edge of the bed, pulling at the hem of your bathrobe. "If I'm lying, let God Himself strike me down where I stand."
"You're sitting," you murmur, unable to resist. Miguel gives an exhausted gasp of laughter.
"You know what I mean..." He says, trying to steer the conversation back on target. "I would NEVER do that to you in a million years. I was an ass, I know. I've been taking too much time at work and I neglected you. I neglected the kids..." He sighs and leans into your chest. You silently wrap your hands around his head, pressing him into you.
Miguel closes his eyes, taking a deep smell of your scent. All of his stress seemingly being tugged out of his head with every moment he stays squished against your heart. He tries to explain, "Ben and Felicia were laughing, that's what you heard on the phone..."
You take a steady intake of breath. "Miguel..."
"Te lo prometo...." (I promise you) He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes from where he's still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Te lo prometo" (I promise you) he repeats for emphasis this time, his voice reducing to a whisper, crimson eyes wide as though his pupils could pull you in and make you see the truth.
"You don't need to explain yourself..." You say, bringing your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he leans into them. When he reopens them, a thin layer of tears is evident.
When Miguel cries, you can't help but cry also. You press your tongue against the back of your teeth, and go back to playing with his hair instead to hold them at bay. "How'd we get like this, baby?..."
That sentence utterly breaks his heart because he's all too aware of his role he's played in being a strain on your marriage by now. This was unlike you two. He's unable to speak but a million thoughts sprint through his head. Life happened. We stopped making each other the priority. Yes, the kids' needs would ultimately trump everything else while they were still very young, but when was it going to be your time again? Instead of going back to the way things were, you'd have to get to know each other again.
Meeting yourselves again as the new people you evolved into, reunited over those tender words you promised each other on wrinkled paper you stole from a printer in a cramped city office building nearly 5 years ago. Your lovely face bore a jittery smile underneath your department store veil, Miguel's expression tender as though he could power a city from the affection on his face alone.
Now, on this late Valentine's Day night , he beckons you to sit next to him, which you do. He lays you backwards, following you and propping himself on his elbow. The shift causes one tear to escape, creeping into your hair. You sniffle, and Miguel looks at you with concern. "Life got in the way again...it's not your fault. It's mine..." He admits shamefully.
You stare at the ceiling, more tears trickling into your hair before you look at Miguel. "Why'd you marry me?"
Miguel gives you a soft smile and answers in a hushed tone. "I decided one day that I didn't want to be without you." He pauses and his smile disappears momentarily, then creeps back up again. "Do you still wanna be without me right now?"
You shake your head. "No...I was mad. But that doesn't mean I really want you to go. I've just missed you, baby... *sigh*.....can we end the night together?"
Miguel's expression liquefies, "Course we can...and tomorrow too, right?" He scoops you even closer. We'll take our time, maybe get breakfast at that diner you love? Take you shopping?...I got a lot to make up for," he chuckles.
You hum, bringing your fingertips against his broad back. "Yes please." You let yourself drown in his hug for several moments, then you say, "We really need to stop fighting and making up on all the major holidays. Hallmark is going to catch wind of it and make a film adaptation, just watch."
Miguel beams, a light snicker from his chest vibrates against your body. "Haha...you're right, baby. Can't keep letting them get away with it..." His hand moves to grip your ass. "I'll wait til St. Patrick's Day to act up instead..."
"Babe. No."
"I'm kidding!"
"No, just, no," you shake your head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he holds you firmly down, both hands moving under your robe.
"You're right, my apologies, Mrs...." he croons.
"O'Hara. That's Mrs. O'Hara to you." You prod the tip of his nose.
"Mmm..."
Miguel kisses the sides of your neck, his lips still contain the tiniest bit of chill from the outside. You sigh into it, your sweet sounds of surrender tickling his ears, evolving into a wave of warmth that covers every inch of him, making him tremble for what's happening next.
"Mrs.... O'Hara..." At the sound of his name, he slides two fingers into your pussy. Your lips fall open at the intrusion, a whine bouncing off the walls.
"Shh...." Miguel soothes, his fingers start moving in a circular pattern.
"Fffuck...," your back arches, encouraging him to go deeper. You've reached the point where you're completely vulnerable. Falling apart to your husband's sweet thick fingers.
Miguel kisses the top of your breasts, still coaxing the walls of your pussy. "There she is..."
"I love you so much..." you whine, almost desperate.
His eyes are completely intoxicated by the utter desire leaking out of your body and into his hand. "I love you, sweetheart..." his voice barely above a whisper, as though any noise that escaped him threatened to rip you out of the haze of pleasure you both were currently drowning in.
You lift your chin, capturing his lips in yours. Soft and wet, they move seamlessly as they had nearly thousands of times before. A familiar song and dance you two engaged in, yet seemed to take you to a place that felt brand new each time you did.
"Make love to me..." your murmur buzzes softly against his lips, leaving his breath hanging hot and heavy.
Miguel answers by making his kisses a little harder. Lingering for a second longer, his tongue weaving a little deeper, leaving yours burning for more contact. A steady stream that turned into a faucet. Every bit of you yearns for him. This man you loved so much. And he yearns for the same in return. He'd happily give into you any time.
He praises you as you take his cock. Your eyes closing momentarily to accommodate his size. He traces your lips, letting the bottom one drag down just a little, leaving an opening for his thumb. You suck it greedily, the callouses of his thumb massaging against the ridges of your tongue. You moan as you taste his skin, earning a low grunt from him in return.
"Mi luz(My light).....so, so gorgeous..."
The corners of your lips curve into a smirk as you continue, but you release it when Miguel begins thrusting harder.
"Shit...." Your head presses back against the pillows and Miguel leans closer to you, his soft breaths fanning you, his fingers combing over your hairline as he holds you in place.
"Swear your pussy drives me insane no matter how many times we've fucked..." Miguel groans in a low voice.
You wind your thighs tighter around him, your body on the verge of overstimulation. "Cum in me ... remember? Wanna give you another baby..."
Miguel lets out a moan louder in volume than any of the previous ones. "¿En serio, amor?" (Seriously, love?)
"Please....."
Your bodies intertwined in a knot of passion as he fills you completely with his cum. You hold him tight, intimate moments like these that only the two people occupying the bed would remember. The raw, dirty memory of the night you hopefully conceived your last child with him.
He stays buried inside you, not ready to separate just yet. Letting the afterglow of the passion wash over you both for several more moments.
Soon after, you're enjoying the steam of the shower as you and Miguel take turns washing another, the smacks of your lips together echoing off the tile leading to a wet slap as your hand comes up to steady yourself against the wall as Miguel dives between your thighs once again.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. O'Hara..."
----
🥰🥺
746 notes · View notes
steveshairychest · 1 year
Text
At exactly 9pm every night, Steve's upstairs neighbour plays his guitar just as Steve is falling asleep. It wouldn't bother Steve if it was a sweet acoustic guitar, he's sure that sound would lull him to sleep, but it's not. It's an electric guitar that screams into the night for at least 3 hours. Sure, whoever it is, is really fucking good but he's causing Steve to lose sleep and it's been going on for weeks now.
It's the night before his big medical exam that Steve decides enough is enough. He needs some fucking sleep. He doesn't even bother putting a shirt on or changing out of his pyjama pants because he really wants the 40 year old man that no doubt lives above him to know just how sleep deprived he is. Steve thinks about knocking politely but decides to bang his fist on the door instead.
Instead of the bearded old retired rock star Steve was expecting to answer the door, a young dude with crazy curls and pouty lips pulls open the door. He's also wearing pyjamas, so Steve doesn't feel too out of place.
The way the guy openly looks Steve up and down causes him to shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot.
"Can I help you?" He drawls and leans against his door frame. Steve eyes are drawn to the tattoos that cover his arms and legs, and it takes the guy clearing his throat for Steve to remember he came here with a mission, not to oggle his apparently hot upstairs neighbour.
Steve folds his arms across his bare chest, trying to hide himself from the guys burning stare. "Uh, yeah, your guitar is really loud, like crazy loud. You play it at the exact time I go to bed every night. Could you maybe turn it down? I live directly below you." He awkwardly points at the floor and shrugs.
The guy, to Steve's shock, seems genuinely sorry when he pushes off the door frame with a soft frown pulling at his lips. "Shit, really? I'm so sorry, man. I'm used to the noise, so I kind of forget how loud it really is." He pulls a piece of hair in front of his face and then quickly drops it, a look of disbelief taking over his face. "I've been working on this song for weeks! Why didn't you say anything sooner?"
An embarrassed flush creeps onto Steve's cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. "I thought you were going to be some scary old metalhead, so I kept chickening out." Steve realises how ridiculous that sounds. He should have just come up the first night it happened.
He laughs, and Steve is mesmerised by the way the laugh causes his whole face to light up and his nose to scrunch. He looks so different, so soft. He leans against the door frame again and gestures to himself. "I'm a metalhead. Are you saying I'm not scary?"
Steve snorts. "Your garfield pyjamas are absolutely terrifying."
He glances down at his pants and t-shirt and curses softly under his breath. "I forgot to put my scary pyjamas on."
Steve's face hurts from smiling so much. This isn't how he expected this encounter to go and he's so glad Robin called him and gave him the courage to actually do it. He would never have met the sweet metalhead upstairs if it wasn't for his best friend bribing him with free food in the morning.
Shit, he's got an exam in the morning.
"I've got an exam tomorrow, so I've gotta go. Thanks for being so understanding and not super scary." Steve gives him his best smile and turns to leave, but a hand shoots out to gently stop him. His hand is cold and rough and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to shiver as he turns back around. "Yes?"
"Would you maybe, uh, like to come to my gig on Saturday? I'm going to play the song that's been keeping you up for the first time." He chews nervously on his bottom lip and hovers in his own doorway, almost like he'll slam the door if Steve reacts negatively to the offer. He grabs something from a small table just inside his door and holds it out to Steve; it's a flyer. "We play at 8."
Steve takes the flyer from his slightly shaky hands and briefly skims it, pretends to think about his answer even though he's already mentally deciding an outfit for the show. "I think I can make it. You have to buy me a drink to make up for all the nights you've kept me awake."
He beams and nods enthusiastically, his hair bouncing. "Yeah, yeah, of course! I'll see you on Saturday then. Oh, I'm Eddie, by the way."
"Steve." They shake hands briefly; the size of Eddie's hands causes Steve's brain to short circuit. This whole interaction has been so surreal. Was Satuday a date? A hangout? Who knows? He's just excited that he'll get to see Eddie again.
"I'll see you on Saturday." Steve says with a shy smile before waving and heading back towards the stairs down to his floor.
"Night, Steve." Eddie calls out.
"Night, Eddie."
For the first time in weeks, the apartment above him is silent when he crawls into bed, but instead of falling asleep like he planned, Steve lies awake trying to figure out what on earth he is going to wear to a metal gig 5 days away.
3K notes · View notes
nerdpoe · 1 month
Text
Harley has a relapse. Well, up until she realizes the teenager she kidnapped needs help.
She hadn't meant to, she really hadn't. But.
There'd been a store alarm, smoke had started filling the aisles, there were gunshots, she'd gotten scared taken by surprise, and someone was laughing nonstop.
Very abruptly, she was back under the Joker's thumb, and the only way to survive was to play along so hard she herself believed it.
Later, she'd learn it was a bunch of teenagers from out of town lighting the firecrackers that had been on display for the Chinese New Year.
But she'd kidnapped another teen, one that had nothing to do with it.
She was outpacing the Bats with said teen thrown over her shoulder, when she started to slow down.
His ribs kept digging into her shoulder, and he wasn't putting up a fight. He wasn't even panicking.
That was...not right. That was not something that had ever happened when she'd been with the Joker.
She came to a complete stop.
She put the kid down on his feet.
She noted the lack of baby fat, even though the kid definitely wasn't even sixteen. Bruises that disappeared into his shirt. Dead, almost bored eyes that stared back at her, blurred by clear sleep deprivation. Scars that did not look good on a civilian. The world-weary expectation the kid held himself with, like getting hit was going to happen and he just had to be prepared for it.
"Babe, you back?" Ivy asked, voice tentative.
Harley turned and pointed at the kid.
"I want this one."
Or; Danny was getting beat up by his bullies, got kidnapped by a lady with wild eyes, went with it because he didn't really want to be with the school group anymore, and now said lady is trying to adopt him because he's "too skinny". Later, when he's awake enough to understand that Harley Quinn and Batman are fighting over who gets to adopt him, he realizes this is a good opportunity to get Dani a family, considering he's taken. (If anyone can keep tabs on her and make sure she's safe it's Batman after all) (But if she doesn't like Batman he just knows she'll love Harley)
843 notes · View notes
primofate · 2 months
Text
"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left
Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts
Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  
Aether
gets flustered
"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."
he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?
Starts to second guess if he really gave you that
Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment
Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark
"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"
Albedo
stares at it for the longest time.
There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.
Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever
"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"
Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it
Brews about a 100 of 'em
Alhaitham
Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye
"I'd advise you to hide it,"
he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out
but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you
"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."
He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.
"...I best be going now."
He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.
Ayato
chuckles to himself
"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"
but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.
Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"
You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.
Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"
Cyno
is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.
Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.
Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind
Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...
Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.
"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."
You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding
Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.
Dainsleif
Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.
Points it out immediately
"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.
"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...
"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"
Diluc
is surprised, then apologetic
He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night
Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.
"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"
Is seriously considering repenting about it
Itto
"Whoa--"
Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers
"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully
No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say
"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"
You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment
Kaeya
smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.
"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"
winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.
"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"
is only half joking
Lyney
mischievous laugh
is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic
"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling
"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"
Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"
always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.
Neuvillette
clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water
"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.
"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.
"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"
points it out by gently thumbing at it
Scaramouche
shit-eating grin at the sight of it
Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.
"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now
but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"
Tartaglia
laughs but is slightly apologetic
"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"
You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.
"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"
I think you know what or where he's thinking about
Tighnari
Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.
"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"
He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously
He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"
He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.
"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.
Wriothesley
laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards
Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically
"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms
Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"
Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.
"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"
Xiao
Freezes while looking at it
For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.
"...Y/N..."
seriously does not know what to say
stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.
"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"
You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.
Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"
Zhongli
chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.
"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"
he again chuckles as he explains.
"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"
brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it
End
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.
Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:
Ko-Fi
buymeacoffee
Here’s the Masterlist
6K notes · View notes
sneezypeasy · 2 months
Text
The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters
Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:
"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."
(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)
Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.
(I mean, we stan.)
There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?
But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?
Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.
Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.
(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)
So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)
Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)
But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.
This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.
So.
Do you make the villain target just anyone?
Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?
Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?
Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?
You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.
What would deliver the strongest punch?
If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)
Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.
And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*
That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.
(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)
This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂
Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.
*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.
568 notes · View notes
imrllytootiredforthis · 7 months
Text
Just Friends
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: beomgyu x reader
summary: Just friends, just friends. That's all there is, all there's ever been but have you really ever been just friends?
warnings: gn reader, dom reader, sub beomgyu, thigh riding, handjob, lots of groping, car sex, mentions of masturbation, possibly more that i forgot
word count: 2.2k
a/n: writer's block is so real, i literal pulled this out of a sleep-deprived haze at 4 in the morning so feedback would be appreciated<3
Tumblr media
Just friends. He tells himself over and over again.
Just friends. You tell yourself over and over again.
But friends don't do things like this on rainy nights in the back of your car. With your windows fogging up and the only light coming from a lone streetlight from the corner of the parking lot.
Friends don't clutch his hips, grinding him down against your thigh. Friends don't pant heavily at the feeling of his fingernails digging deep into the skin of your shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood.
At least they shouldn't.
But maybe you and Beomgyu have never really been 'just friends'.
"God," but it's never gone this far before. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"
Sure there's been teasing touches and lingering looks, meaningful conversations that maybe meant more than either of you had wanted to admit.
But you hadn't expected it to go this far.
To have him clinging to you. To have his lips all over your neck and your hands all in his hair.
To have his pants discarded somewhere in the back along with his boxers in your haste...
To have his dick rubbing against the rough material of your jeans. To have him sobbing into your ear to not stop, to never stop, that he'll die without your touch.
You suppose your best friend has always been a touch dramatic.
If you could even call him that anymore-your best friend.
"Don't worry baby," every nerve ending in his body feels like it's on fire. His ears feel like they're ringing, replaying your words over and over like a broken record. "I won't."
It feels so good, it hurts so bad.
Tears stream down his face from both-from everything. From you calling him baby like he's yours. With so much affection and adoration, like he's the most important thing in the world to you right now.
Like he isn't shaking against you, crying out like some kind of wounded animal (in heat), thinking or maybe even muttering how he can't get enough, how it'll never be enough, how he wants you so bad, how he'll die before he lets you go.
Your hand guides his lips to yours, soft and sweet and hungry. Devouring every one of his whines up and replying with your own want for more, kissing him like your life depends on it. You'd always thought that he'd sound pretty, but not this pretty, not this pathetic or needy.
"Fuck, Beomgyu."
Your mouth clashes against his over and over, saliva dripping down his chin as he tries and fails in trying not to drool. You're too preoccupied in nipping at his lips that you're faintly aware of his hands slipping under your shirt until they're on your chest, squeezing and exploring everything he's only fantasized of.
He hasn't felt this good before. Ever. Not from past partners or from his own hand. Toys feel like nothing compared to this, the unforgiving bite of denim somehow lightyears better than vibrators and dildos and whatever else he's used to replicate your touch.
The friction makes him feel like he's burning but his hips just rut faster. He wishes it was your skin, soft and comfortable and you-but he doesn't think he can be patient enough. Doesn't think he can find it in himself to let go of you long enough for you to take your pants off. He has his nose in your hair and the taste of you on his tongue, and he can't stop now.
He can't stop. Not when he's wanted this for so, so long.
Okay, so maybe you've never truly been 'just friends'.
Well, maybe before that first time you were out at a party together and a friend of a friend approached Beomgyu, trying to talk him up while you stood right next to him.
Before you'd watched, something ugly simmering in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't fully decipher-that you weren't sure you wanted to decipher.
It was only until Beomgyu shot you a pleading look that you were able to keep your cool and then you'd very kindly told that friend of a friend to back the fuck off and leave the two of you alone.
And maybe, just maybe Beomgyu had gone home that night and let his hand wander past his waistband to wrap around his aching cock.
Jesus christ.
With each stroke of his hand he conjured your image in his mind. It was you looking at him, watching him-touching him. Talking to him in that same cold, mean voice you had talked to that friend of a friend.
Hating him and loving him all in one, rough and cruel but soft and caring. He wanted all of it, all of you.
And then afterwards it was basking in an afterglow of remembering the way that your eyes softened once again when they landed on him and your hand touched his shoulder and you asked if he was okay.
Friends do this...right? He'd thought, not ready yet to admit that maybe it was something more.
Just friends that brought you to his apartment a few weeks later, slightly ashamed and very drunk and looking for some kind of comfort after you'd been out drinking for better part of the night.
Just friends that had your hands all over his body and your lips all over his throat, sloppy wet kisses making his head spin and his body heat up. That'd had you shoving him down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, pushing your knee between his legs as your cold hands slithered up his shirt in search of warm, smooth skin to lay claim on as yours.
Just friends with the way that you promptly passed out on top of him and conveniently remembered nothing of the night before. Of groping your best friend, of telling him how pretty he was, of whispering that he was a good boy.
'I want you.'
'You're so pretty.'
'Perfect.'
'My good boy.'
'Mine.'
Friends don't know the way his moans sound. Or the way his skin feels against yours.
Like tonight,
A movie. That was all it was supposed to be.
Platonic. Friends. Just going to see a movie together, get dinner after. Nothing more.
"Touch me! G-od, please touch me!" His hand flies up, fingers dig into your wrist as he pulls it down between his legs, his dick throbbing and needy.
It feels so much better-your hand-your skin, your fingers loosely wrapping around him, teasingly rubbing at the tip. "And why should I baby? Have you been good? Have you been a good boy?"
He doesn't know.
He doesn't knowHe doesn't knowHe doesn't know.
All he knows is you.
Just friends shouldn't let things get to this point.
...Oh well.
A movie. A quiet theatre. Darkness and eyes all too often glancing at the profile of the other.
A tension palpable in the air as fingers brushed against each other to grab popcorn. Hands aching, itching to hold each other. An agonizing one hundred and twenty minutes.
Nothing though.
Only getting into the car afterwards and driving off.
"What do you want to eat?" He only shrugs in reply and you roll your eyes. "Helpful."
"Well I dunno," he thinks, "the usual? I can place an order to your place and we should get back before it gets there."
You hum in reply. "It's late though, you planning to stay over for the night?"
"...Sure."
Hesitation. He can only think of the last time you stayed the night. So long ago now, he'd avoided either of you spending the night at the others ever since. From fear? From preservation? Or from hoping that your frustration would break the dam first.
'I want you.'
'Mine.'
Words that flash through his mind unbridled. Sounds and touches that flood his brain
'My good boy.'
He swallows, trying to keep his eyes on the screen of the phone. Trying to hope the darkness blankets how red his face has turned.
"Hey could you pull over here?"
"Sure?" You'd glanced over at him and the question on your face evident.
He didn't elaborate though and you didn't ask.
You'd pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. Only a few cars left in front of a grey, drab building. Parked beside a flickering streetlight that continued for a few minutes before doing out completely. Certainly the furthest thing from being romantic by any means.
Nothing specific broke the tension, the unspoken rules.
But the next thing the either of you know is he's on your lap clawing at you aimlessly, pure desire fuelling him to do such pathetic things. Like telling you how horny he is and how bad he needs you.
You don't seem to have any problem with his confession though.
Responding in turn rather appropriately you'd think. And then your lips are against his and you're tugging at his clothes and touching his body like he's your last lifeline.
And then you're in the backseat of the car, his pants and boxers discarded into the back, your lips curled into a smirk against his skin.
And then you're here.
Doing things that friends certainly should not be doing.
"M' a good boy, promise! Please, I'll be your good boy!"
You'd imagined how his face would look all fucked out all but a million times in the dead of night, thinking about things you certainly should not have been thinking about.
But you'd never know that your imagination would do absolutely no justice to the real thing.
To his lips slick with your spit and his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Eyes fluttering like he's fighting to merely keep them open with every sensation he's feeling.
"Pretty~" you mutter.
Bite marks and hickeys all over his neck and collarbone-good thing it's nearly scarf season. Or bad thing, you're not sure you want him to hide these or if you want him to parade them around, show off your claim to him to everyone.
"So fucking pretty it's not fair-" a high, needy whine climbs up his throat and he lets it, because you don't even have to say it, he knows how much you love hearing how good you make him feel.
His eyebrows tug together as if in concentration. Concentration to stay sane while you let him fuck into your hand.
You trail a finger over his cheekbone, collecting a tear while everything within him tries not to let this end, because it can't be over yet, he doesn't want it to be over yet and he's not sure he can go again until later-if there is a later.
You lick the tear off your finger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. "Not fucking fair to make me wait this long. Such a tease, such a whore."
Fingers press against his lips and he opens with zero hesitation. This is what you want, this is what he wants-more than anything.
You pull them out all too soon and replace your fingers with your tongue, letting him suck it into his mouth with a moan.
Your grip tightens, your hand moves faster and faster and his toes curl. Too much, too much-he can't...it can't, he doesn't want this to be over-
"No!"
His head falls into your neck with a strangled scream as he cums into your hand, staining your jeans and his shirt. You stroke him still to prolong the pleasure, milking him dry of everything he has before he lets out the first whine of protest and you stop.
"Please,"
His breath comes out in rushed pants, his head a jumbled mess of "more, please more-" followed by incoherent babbles and then, finally, "I can go again, wanna...wanna go again. Just...use me, use me however you want." as his hips work still, even if it only works against what he really wants, releasing pained whimpers all the while from the self-inflicted overstimulation.
You smile and he can practically hear it before he's flipped into his back, spread out and pinned against the slightly uncomfortable seats of your car as you press apart his legs, eyes roving over him before beginning to undo your pants.
"Use you, huh baby?"
Yes.
However you want. Use him however you want. That's all he wants. All he's wanted for so long.
The pads of your fingers press against his thigh, too close and he squirms with oversensitivity.
"We'll still be friends after this though right?"
He lets out a noise between a cry and an affirmation, eyes sliding shut as your body presses against his.
"Friends!" He gasps.
Your fingers lace together. You smile.
"But not just friends now are we...?"
Tumblr media
a/n: y'all please forgive me if this is absolute bullshit. i feel like i haven't written anything for real in forever and i feel like rusty now lol. but lmk what you think (to possibly give me inspo to write more lol😭)
my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix,
1K notes · View notes