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#anyhow it's late I'm going to bed
twilightarcade · 3 days
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that's a weird dog
#wordstag#notwordswordstag#neptune wgen it's being normal about that eclipse thing#drawn at late oh clock it's like 2am right now . I think I'm gonna darken the eyes in the morning#or I won't. You never know with this guy.#anyhow I'm in bed now and I'm sooooo cozy.#ok so [mr beasts] this drawing was a 'let's use all the brushes in the sketching section & see what happens' thing#I think we're going 2 do another one w/ a smaller canvas size because I wanna . Try something. & this canvas was way too big#(<-I've been using the same canvas 4 like . Ages. And some IDIOT refuses 2 just move the sketches over(#literally whoever invented patterns on clothing should go explode . Do you have any clue#it's ok though . Fun exercise in whatever it's called. Perspective. If it was evil. ( I am failing the exercise)#ummmmmmm I thibk that's all. Spent way longer on this than I meant to. But the REAL criminal here was anzu because#That was supposed 2 be a warm up. Of sorts. I don't really do warm ups much if I'm going 2 be honest#trying 2 get into the habit but me drawing is more like . I'm going to draw 5 things in one sitting take it or leave it#ok guess who just . Fixed it.#I could point out like a million other things wrong but I'm not going to [smug cat picture] I'll leave that up to your imagination#ok umm how many tags is that . Not enough ? I want 2 do those whatever u wanna call those things again#yyou know. Peeks in my inbox.#ddude I might want to uh. I might want to crop this thing.#landscape is fun and all but seriously I can't#whatever. Officially a tomorrow me issue. Guess who's headed to sleep baby.#tomorrow neptune here I ended up cropping it after all.cod bleAmerica.ca.#anyhow I don't think I mentioned the . The Animal?
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loregoddess · 2 years
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it took me...almost the entire game (specifically getting Anna’s second character story) to even figure out that Anna was basically Benedict’s daughter, because the entire game I’m like, okay she has his last name, but she’s an orphan, but she’s also training to take over his role so are they actually related or did he just adopt her, and if the latter then why do they act so formally even seemingly in private, and no other characters who knew them ever made comment about it (aside from Erador’s “he worries after you like you’re his own daughter” comment in Anna’s first character story, which Anna’s follow up was immediately indirectly related to her birth-parents so I was still uncertain at that point), and any characters who didn’t know them just seemed to see Anna as Benedict’s weirdly close assistant (Sorsley’s comment about her made it seem like he thought she was no more than a tool to Benedict, which given how a certain other character is treated by the Saintly Seven makes sense, but was still worded in such a way that I wanted to set him on fire).
Anyhow I was going somewhere with this. That is...once I did figure out the two have a strong, albeit very unusual, family thing going on, it just...gave rise to even more questions. I love Anna as a character, and Benedict grew on me the more I learned about him, so I just, want to know more about how their family dynamic works, and how that works as well in the greater scheme of House Wolffort (given that Anna is almost certainly a few years older than Serenoa, it makes me wonder if she played an almost older sister role to him, or if she was too busy training under Archibald for playing with baby Seranoa, but given how good she is with kids it’s hard to imagine that she didn’t hang out a bit w/ Serenoa, maybe as a babysitter?) I JUST, listen, I just have so many questions.
AND NOT JUST ABOUT ANNA’S LIFE, but ever since I pieced together the very interesting facts about Svarog’s household (which are also a tad spoilery, so, I’ll save the details for a future post when I’m not as worried about accidentally spoiling people), and I’m sitting here going holy shit, I need to know more about this as well. Especially if Frederica ever got to hang out at his house.
Basically, I need all the details of the Saltiron War, and also every single thing that happened to all the major characters in the 30 years between the end of the war and the beginning of the game.
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luveline · 6 months
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hi jade!!! i was wondering if i could request a bassist!remus x roadie!reader fic in which they spend time together on their day off from touring? maybe reader is totally surprised that he even asked her?
hi gorgeous!! modern au, fem 1k
cw vague adult theme, mdni 
"There you are," Remus says, as though he's said it a hundred times before, and he'll say it a hundred times again. "I've been looking for you." 
As a roadie (merchandising, mostly), there's no reason for Remus to know who you are, nor care, but he seems to like you anyhow. And there's nowhere for you to hang out in your downtime beside hotel lobby's or your literal assigned seat in the minivan, so here you are, in your pyjamas, laying on a random lobby couch with a book smushed to your chest. 
"What?" you ask, wiping the sleep from your eyes. 
"I've been looking for you. You weren't in your room." 
"I share my room with three other girls, one who has sleep apnea." The muscles in your back sing like plucked strings as you sit up. "It's quieter here… You're looking for me?" 
"Mm. Come on. We'll go get a late dinner." 
"I'm in my pyjamas." 
Remus gestures down at himself. "I thought you might be." 
He's dressed down too. Every roadie has their thing —it's hard, learning so many names at once, and eventually people begin to typecast one another as their most defining feature. Yours, to your indifference, seems to have become your more comfortable clothing choices. You're not gross, everything's clean, but is everything acceptable attire for going out into the world? 
"No one will even notice they're pyjamas," he assumes you, holding out his hand expectantly. "They look like jogging bottoms." 
"Remus, they're lavender." 
He pulls your hand toward his chest, encouraging you to stand. "They're nice." 
He ferries you out of the hotel, and you thank your lucky stars you wore your converse rather than the hotel slippers. He's clearly thought about this, offering you a hoodie (your size, clearly swiped from the merchandise van, 'marauders' written in jagged lettering across your shoulders like bat wings) as he explains the details of your trip. 
"First we'll get dinner. Then see a film in the cinema, if you want to? They have the new Exorcist." 
"I love horror." 
"I know." He nods to himself. "And then I have to buy you fresh donuts. James says they're the only way to eat them." 
"You don't have to buy me anything." 
"Sorry, I should say it differently. I'd love to buy you fresh donuts. If that's what you want to do." 
You peek at him from the corner of your eye. "I would've stayed in the lobby if I didn't want to come out with you." 
"In that case," he murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 
This is worse than flirting. It feels like an initiation, or a turned tide. You smile at him from under his arm and he visibly pauses, falters, before his own smile hooks and he walks forward with a little more purpose. 
The day moves on as promised. You eat a quick dinner at a mid range restaurant before he takes you to the cinema, where he insists he doesn't want any popcorn but eats half of yours anyways. Then he takes you for donuts, and the entire time, you're thinking, what does he want from me? If Remus wanted sex he could fuck a groupie. Half the techs would crawl into bed with him if he asked. Maybe he's just gentlemanly? 
But why would he wanna fuck you? Ignoring any self-esteem issues, you're in cuffed bottoms and bare-faced, and he has no reason to believe you'd be any good in bed. 
He might want something slower, he decides. It's easier to believe when he asks if he can hold your hand on the walk home. 
"What?" you ask, sure you heard him wrong. 
"Can I?" he says, offering you his palm. 
It's different from his pulling earlier. You give him your hand and he squeezes his fingers between yours slowly, as though savouring the feeling.
You shake your head. "Was this…" 
Remus waits for you to finish. It's hard to ask under the weight of his gaze, happy but with that air of knowing you can't quite crack. He always seems so put together, even when he's asking for things, like any answer you give is one he's prepared for. 
"Was this a date?" you force out. 
"That depends. Did it go well?" 
"I would've said yes, if you asked me." 
Remus leans in like he's telling a secret, his voice hushed to match. "I know," he says gently, the tiniest hint of smugness threaded in the slight scratch of his voice. "That's mostly why I didn't ask." 
"Mostly?" 
"I couldn't face rejection. Not from you." His eyes light with an emotion you can't name. "But if you still want to reject me, I'll cope. It might be good for me, actually, it'll give me some material. Nothing makes for better music than losing a pretty girl." 
You fluster at his wording. "I would've worn something nice," you say apologetically. "If I'd known. I would've made an effort to look nice." 
"You always look nice. You think I'm put off by your pyjamas?" 
"Stop," you mumble, mortification creeping in. I can't believe I just went on a date with a rockstar in my pyjamas. 
"It's cute. You're cute, I love that you can fall asleep anywhere–" 
"Stop!" 
Remus laughs and pulls you that last inch into his side, elbow to elbow, hip to hip. "I can't. Teasing you is half the fun. It's why I haven't mentioned the powdered sugar on your lip." 
You sigh and turn your face away from him, wiping your lip with your sleeve. "You always do this." 
"Don't wipe it off, I'll get it. It'll taste sweet." 
You take your hand out of his. "Did you want this to be a date? I'll change my mind." 
He's kinder after that, and when he rubs your shoulder like he knows you need it, you almost pass out. 
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strawberryya · 7 months
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notice me!
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pairing: jihoon x reader
synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!
word count: 2.1k
genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.
rating: 18+
a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii
network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
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You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 
“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 
You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 
He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 
Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 
“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 
“A nun?!” He gasped out. 
“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 
He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.
Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 
“I’m sorry?” 
You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)
Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 
“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”
He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 
He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 
“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 
“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”
Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 
“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 
Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 
“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 
“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 
He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 
“Shut up.”
His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 
“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 
You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 
“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 
You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 
His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 
“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 
“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 
“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 
“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 
You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 
He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 
When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 
He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 
“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 
Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 
“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 
“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”
You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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caramelberzatto · 7 months
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Ooooohhhh could you maybe do Carmy jerking off and reader walking in? He’s embarrassed but she’s like yessss this is 🔥 🔥 🔥 and wants to watch? Thank you!
PLEASE- okay so i'm literally at work right now, on my day off, because i had shit-all else to do and my only friends are here. SO anyway, moving on, long story short, i'm getting some lunch and churning out some writing. i changed it a teensy bit because i wanted to write some needy carmy so bad heheheheh. let's fucking go (nsfw below, minors dni)
okay so we all know carmy is busy, and when he isn't busy, he's probably stressing about something. (which is very relatable, love that for us.) ANYHOW, he finally has a moment to himself. it's late, he's freshly showered, and all he wants is to climb into bed with you and touch you the way he knows you like. but, as fate would have it, you're not home, and he's sighing to himself after the memory of you mentioning some birthday dinner for your friends boyfriend returns to him.
'fucks sake,' he mutters to himself as he drops onto the couch, letting his head fall back, teeth gritted in frustration. running a hand through his still-damp hair, he thinks about calling it a night and just going to sleep. but he wants to wait up for you. and he just... really fucking needs you.
he heads down the hall to his bedroom, leaving his shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed. it's gotten warmer, or it could just be because the thoughts currently occupying his mind are... heated. regardless, he tosses back the covers and leans back against the headboard, trying to focus on literally anything but how badly he's craving you.
but he's failing. miserably. especially because your underwear are still on the floor from where he'd tossed them that morning when he'd woken you up with his tongue. and the memory your fingers tangled in his hair is so visceral, he swears he can almost feel it.
and before he can even register what he's doing, his hand has slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped around his cock, already hard and aching. the relief is immediate, and he lets out a long sigh, his other hand gripping the duvet as he starts to pump himself.
it doesn't feel as good as you, though. not even when he spits on his palm, squeezing lightly around the base and running his thumb over the head the way you always do. and it's making him more and more frustrated with every underwhelming stroke.
he's all worked up, breathless and pissed off, and doesn't hear the door open, nor the thud of your shoes as you kick them off. you dump your bag on the couch, heading down the hall, and you can hear his quick, shallow breaths seeping out of the bedroom door left ajar.
the door creaks on its hinges as you push it open, stepping into the dimly lit room. and carmen is a fucking mess. his curls are plastered over his forehead, his cheeks, neck, and chest are blooming red and flushed, and his gaze meets yours instantly. his sweatpants sit halfway down his thighs, and his cock is in his hand, and he just looks so... pathetic. and you love it.
'fuck, baby, hi,' he says, and you're already climbing on top of him, into his lap, taking his cock in your hand. and the sounds he makes go straight your chest. having him like this, so needy and whimpering and just out of his mind... it's hot.
normally, carmy would be taking in the sight of you, marvelling at the pretty little dress you're wearing, asking you how your night was, but he's so close to begging it's almost overwhelming.
and when you tuck your underwear to the side, not bothering to get undressed, and sink down on him, carmy lets out a choked sound that seems to be a mix of your name and a long, low 'fuck.'
it doesn't take long before he's spilling inside you, and he might've been embarrassed about it if he wasn't so relieved.
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meaningofaeons · 10 months
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i absolutely love the way you write jing yuan! can you do some general domestic hcs for him? like him coming home after a long day at work and what'd you'd do together?
or on the weekend, where he doesn't have work, some cute sleeping in shenanigans before reader has to drag him out of bed
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ mundanities
⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 803 ⊹ notes - gn!reader
hi anon!! ty for the req!! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get around to it </3 hope you enjoy !!! (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)
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Now, Jing Yuan is a man of dignity.
He's the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, for Aeons' sake. Though he may nap on the job occasionally, nobody would ever question his status and majesty.
Well, nobody except for you.
It's difficult to take him seriously when he's composed one minute on screen, delivering a speech to the masses with poise and honor, and the next thing you know he's practically flopping into your arms once he gets home, completely deadweight.
Even if you wanted to scold him for throwing himself at you, it's impossible.
The General looks like a puppy when he gazes up at you, sleep-ridden expression doing nothing to get rid of the shine in his eyes upon seeing you.
"I'm home, my dear."
And his honey-like voice soothes your senses the moment he greets you.
He sounds so unbelievably happy and relieved, it's adorable.
Jing Yuan doesn't really enjoy doing anything too excitable or bothersome after a long day at work.
Really, if he had his way, he'd spend every day (working or no) in your arms, snuggled up in bed. Maybe with Mimi cuddling you two as well.
He's not opposed to some activities, though.
If you offer a game of chess or a walk around the gardens of Central Starskiff Haven, it's unlikely he'd deny you no matter how tired he is
But sometimes he will have to gently let you down—especially so if he's already made his way to bed and can't bring himself to rise from the plushness of the mattress.
(If you do end up going out, halfway through the walk or chess game he's probably going to hang off your shoulder and start snoozing lightly)
Jing Yuan can nap and doze just about anywhere and everywhere, but when he's in bed, there's not a chance in Hell of waking him.
Let him hold onto you, though.
Even if he'd rather not do anything at all once he's off work, he's still quite clingy to you.
Will groan and grumble like a child if you need to go on an errand or some such
Tries very hard to convince you to just stay with him.
Please bend to his will!! He works so hard, just let him enjoy the time he has to snuggle up to you
Stroke his hair, run a gentle caress over his face, he'll melt into your touch
Odds are he either gets home very very late and it's time for bed anyhow, or he gets home midday/afternoon and sleeps enough to ruin his bedtime
If it's the latter, he might be the one to ask you to take a walk and admire the stars together, surprisingly.
Jing Yuan is like a cat in that he can kind of sleep as much as he wants to, but sometimes he appreciates going out with you more than cooping up inside!
Now onto the weekends... You can't tell me this man is the worst on days off.
No need to get up for work? To him, that's as good as 'no need to get up at all.'
Obviously, there's stuff to be done around the house, or he made a promise to train with Yanqing that he may have forgotten about once he felt your hand stroking his white locks in the morning...
Not to mention, not only does he not get out of bed himself, but he has a vice grip on you making it so you can't get out of bed.
"Jing Yuan, darling. I need the restroom."
"Mmm... five more minutes..."
"I'll come right back."
"Ugh..."
I swear, if you thought he was petulant about you leaving during his afternoon naps, he's a whole new breed of childish in the morning if you so much as scoot away from him a bit
Forget about getting him up to do any chores or run any errands.
It'd be a miracle if you yourself managed to get out and finish them.
Once you manage to escape his grasp and run the errands you need to take care of outside of the comforts of your home, you will in most cases return to a somewhat guilty Jing Yuan who has taken care of the household chores in your absence.
You had scolded him to get up and get ready to go ten times before giving up, so the guilty conscience it put on him was very deserved, but...
He may be a bit lazy, but he's far from a slob, and he's certainly not ungrateful enough to you to let the household work go unfinished in your absence.
Besides... once your warmth had vanished from beside him, he found it a bit easier to drag himself up.
He's quick to latch right back onto you when you get home, though.
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small-sinclair · 11 months
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Hii!!
Sinclair brothers react about it's time to wake up but S/O don't want to get up just want to stay in bed and sleep
Thank you and have a good day!!!❤️
Hewo, friend! Thank your for the request :3
I'm also going to add Reggie and Brahms, too.
Slashers with an s/o that doesn't want to leave bed.
Bo: Snuggles
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"Darlin', I know ya hate mornin's but ya need to let go of my arm," he drawls, tapping your shoulder to let go. "I got things to do, an' I need your help wit' puttin' up a new welcome sign."
Y/n's hand takes Bo's arm and pulls it back into their grasp. They sigh tiredly and drift back to sleep. Bo just signs and lays back down with them and nuzzles into their chest. "Okay, honey. Twenty more minutes an' we move."
Bo said this about two hours ago. Now, he and his s/o are snuggled under the covers once more, Bo kissing their head and hands. Maybe it's a good idea to take the morning off.
Vincent: Works anyways
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He knows you don't get up right away, and he's okay with that. Vincent is already dressed and working on his art when you stumble out of the little bedroom off the side of the basement and lean against him. Vincent knows you stay up late sometimes with your own work, but he just wants your to feel well rested with everything. He looked over as you rest your head on his shoulder. Both of you listen to the opera music play as you watch him work with his hands.
He puts his tools down and pats his lap, motioning for you to sit. You do, and he holds your waist as you play with his hair.
"Sorry I slept in later," you whispered, sleep still hanging in your voice.
He shakes his head as he starts rubbing your back. At least you're somewhat awake for him to give you some loving by kissing your hand and cheek, his lone eye admiring your sleepy-filled eyes.
Lester: Passenger Royalty
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He was able to wiggle out of your grasp and get dressed to leave for work. He normally leaves before the sun comes up, so he knows you won't be awake. Today is different, however.
Lester wakes you up with kisses and nudging your gently like a puppy. "Sweet pea? Do ya wanna wake up?"
"No," you murmur as you started back to sleep.
He raises a brow and kisses your forehead. "How 'bout ya come wit' me today? If we leave now, we can get that fast food breakfast ya lik'?" He kisses you again. "An' Starbucks from the next town over? Headin' 'at way anyhow 'cause I gotta report from the sheriff two deer down."
You think it over. "C'n I be in my fuzzy pants all day? And not leave the truck?" You asked, blinking some sleep away.
"Be my passenger royalty, darlin'," he conformed. "Deal?"
You smile sleepily and kiss him sleepily. "Grab my blanket and pillow, too. I might sleep."
Brahms: The Nervous
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Brahms gets scared when y/n doesn't get up at their normal time. He moves from his room and goes through the wall tunnels to find them still in their bed with the covers over their head. He saw this once when he was younger when someone was sick and dying.
Brahms comes to y/n's side of the bed and shakes them slightly. "Wake up," he whispers. "Please, wake up? Get up?" His child voice fills the dusty air as his nerves take over. "Why aren't you getting up?"
Y/n stirs and parts their eyes. Without saying anything, they pulls Brahms into their chest and lay them back down in bed.
"Y/n sick?" Brahms ask.
"No," they answer as they start going back to sleep. "Just a lazy day." Y/n looks down at Brahms and carefully takes off his mask to steal a kiss. "Does Brahms wanna join y/n on this lazy day?"
Even though it doesn't go in his normal schedule, Brahms nods and snuggles into their arms, sighing softly. They should have more lazy days.
Reggie: Comes back and Joins
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Reggie wakes up and kisses your forehead. You normally wake up with him, but he noticed that you were extra tired today from last night's date. He smiled in your hair and kisses you once more, causing you to follow his lips to kiss him back.
"Go'morning, honeydew," he says lightly. "I gots some deliveries ta do. Promise 'll be back by lunch."
"Bring food?" You murmur, kissing his arm. "Please?"
He smiles and rests his head against yours. "Reckon so, beauty." HE looks at the clock then back at you. "I promise ta bring bac' sum burgers and curly fries from 'at dinner yous like." Reggie squeezes your head the sits up to leave.
When he comes back and sees you still in bed, he'll smile and place the bags on the counter. He takes off his boots and hands his hat before climbing in bed and pulls you into his chest, kissing your head. Soon, he joins you and drifts back to sleep, holding you close.
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boosari · 10 months
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waking him up — c.sc
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pairings: husband!scoups x fem!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: none.
summary: your sweet husband doesn't want to get up.
wk: 0.5k
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You look up at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 6:45 am. You woke up early this morning and made breakfast for you and your husband Seungcheol.
After being done with preparing breakfast, you walk to your shared bedroom. as promised, to wake seungcheol up since he asked, no begged you last night to wake him up early for work.
Opening the door, you look over your bed and there is a Cheol, sleeping peacefully while his chest rises up and down as he softly snores.
You smile, feeling a bit guilty for waking him up from his beautiful moment. But a promise is a promise. So you walk up to him and sit on the bed. You admire his face features for a while, asking yourself how did you get so lucky to have someone like him.
You place your hand gently on his shoulder and shake him lightly. "Cheol, honey wake up" you mutter softly, as his brows furrow.
"Hmm..." he frowns, making you smile wider at his cuteness. but he doesn't show any sign of wanting to get out of bed.
"Cheool come on it's time to wake up, you'll be late to work" you shake his shoulder a bit more. "Hmm!" he whines, moving a bit, his brows still furrowed.
"Come on! you slept so much already" you whine out, hoping that he would at least open his eyes.
"No i didn't sleep much" he mumbles, with his deep and raspy morning voice.
"Yes you did. come on, you were the one who begged me last night to wake you up early" you shake him again. "What time is it?" he asks, eyes still closed. "It's almost 7am" you reply hoping that this would make him get up.
"Hmm..." he hums again, shifting in his place to find a more comfortable position. You roll your eyes.
You know seungcheol is a light sleeper, he would instantly get up after waking up. He's faking right now just because he doesn't want to get up.
"Come on, i made us breakfast" you smile a bit. "Hmhm" nothing to do. The idea of getting up doesn't even cross his mind.
Just then, an idea pops in your head as you smile mischievously. "Then...i'll kiss you until you wake up!" you state, getting closer to his face and start to pepper all over it. "Hmm! stop! stop the kissing!" he whines out, trying to stop you.
"Then get up"
"No"
"Seungcheol. You begged me last night to wake you up!"
"No i didn't"
"Yes you did!"
"Whatever, i don't remember"
Now, you don't know if he's acting like he doesn't remember or he just doesn't. But anyhow, he needs to get up.
"Get up~ i made us breakfast" you repeat, excited. "Hmm stop annoying me" you roll your eyes, again. "You really aren't going to get up?" "Hmm"
"Fine then! I'll go eat breakfast alone, don't mind me, just enjoy your sleep" you reply sarcastically as you get up to make your way out.
Just when you were about to get out, you hear your husband. "I'm awake now" he giggles. "Whatever" you reply, annoyed.
He gets up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, hugging you. "I'm still mad at you" you mumble. He just smiles, "You can't be mad at me, now let's go eat breakfast. Thank you for waking me up" he says, giving a peck on your cheek, making you smile again.
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a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic. i know it lacks in different ways, probably did some grammar errors as well (english is not my first language), but still i hope you enjoy!
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𓆩Bob Velseb x Reader HCs𓆪
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Wooooo, first (official) post on this absolute garbage fire of an app. And of course it's Bob ✋💀 but is anyone really complaining? Because I'm sure not. Anyways this post was made really late at night, and there may be grammar and spelling mistakes because I'm running a fever rn- so I'm sorry 😭
CW+TW; Cannibalism, Murder, Knife mentions, Blood mentions, NSFW at the end ;)
🜲 Bob's a big guy, I think we all know this- but he's also really, really comfortable. And warm. He's the best cuddle buddy, hands down. The butcher man will often times pick you up from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while mumbling something like "I've missed ya, sugar" after a long day of "work".
🜲 He almost always has his hands on you, even in public! He's usually got an arm wrapped around your waist, or a hand on your shoulder. Hell, sometimes he's even HOLDING you. It's really sweet, but sometimes unexpected or overwhelming.
🜲 Bob is really big on cuddles! He's either got you in his lap, or snuggled up to his side. Sometimes the big guy falls asleep on you; rather effectively trapping you in your spot until he wakes up. It's all in good nature, of course, it just means that he loves you.
🜲 PRAISE. Both giving and receiving, Bob LOVES it! Especially from you. Speaking of which, you'll usually have a "You look stunnin' t'night, sweetpea. I could just eat you up" or a "Not even angels compare to what you've got, sweetness" whispered into your ear. Bob never fails to make you blush.
🜲 Big guy is very protective. If another person is even THINKING about trying to hurt his little darlin' consider them dead in an instant. That goes for bastards trying to flirt with you, too. You're HIS and his only.
🜲 Bob's anger can get ahold of him sometimes, and it's overwhelming. But he'd never, EVER take it out on you- you mean too much to him. Most of the time he'll just leave for a few minutes, before coming back covered in blood. Sure, red stains get everywhere but it could be worse!
🜲 His knife is the same as his anger. He'd never draw it on you (unless you reeeaallllllly asked him to). Sure, he's a cannibal and all- but the idea of knowing that he hurt you? Bob doesn't like to think or even TALK about it. The idea is often shoved down with a "Hm. Interestin'. Anyhow, did ya hear 'bout the news this mornin'?"
🜲 Bob has, and will try to get you to eat "Long Pork" as he calls it. You know damn well it's human meat, and have expressed your discomfort with consuming the substance. But Bob is persistent, always saying something like "Awh, C'mon, sweetness. Just a bite? I promise it ain't all that bad. Tastes just like Pork!" And "I'll give ya some special Lovin' if ya try iiitt~"
🜲 He also really, really likes cooking for you! Any dish you can think of, he's got the skills to do it! Which often leads to him making you all your favorite meals whenever you're sick, or feeling down. Physical contact, acts of service and personal time are his love language, after all.
🜲 Bob also really enjoys giving you tiny little trinkets! Anything that be finds on his victims that he thinks you might like, he's taking. Sure the items are always a little bloody, but that can just be washed right off!
꒷꒦NSFW꒦꒷
🜲 Bob is a horny motherfucker 24/7. He's really good at hiding it, but goddamn it doesn't take much to get this man going at all. Cuddling usually always turns into him slamming his hips up into you, biting down on your shoulder just to hear those delicious little noises you make.
🜲 He has good stamina, surprisingly. He'll have you pinned down to the bed, practically cockdrunk from how many times you've came- and he's still going, fast, too. "Just one more round, sugar. I promise I'm almost done" Bob usually lasts anywhere from 3-6 rounds, only to just collapse and nearly fall asleep right on top of you.
🜲 Aftercare with Bob is always some of the sweetest moments; him cradeling you in his arms, usually humming a little tune as he peppers kisses along your face and neck. Any bruises or marks left upon your skin always end up being kissed, Bob uttering a gentle apology under his breath.
🜲 Overall, being in a relationship with this big, lovable cannibal man is wild. But in the best ways possible <3
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frogmanfae · 1 year
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Anthony Lockwood x GN! Reader- You Too? (FLUFF with a little bit of angst)
Summary: Anthony can't sleep at night. You can't sleep at night. Most of the time you avoid running into each other, but one fateful night of tears in the basement leads to an awkward bedroom experience.
A/n: this one is quite a bit longer than my other ones, about 4,000 words. I think it came out pretty well. Please don't make this dirty, I beg of you. It really is just awkwardness that happens to occur in a bed it isn't anything spicy.
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Reader pov
There are nights where I can't bear to be in my room. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I need a break from such mundane consistency. I just need to see something other than those walls.
On these nights, I usually make myself some tea and go to the basement. I'd much rather sit in the library, but Lockwood is in there most nights. Nobody ever comes down to the basement. I'm alone with only my thoughts and my tea.
I don't quite understand why my room has this effect on me sometimes. When my parents died, my room was my safe haven. My refuge. My sanctuary. So now that I'm in a new environment, it makes little sense to me that it can feel more like solitary confinement. It makes even less sense that I'm soothed by the concrete and dust of the basement.
Tonight is one of those nights. It's probably three in the morning as I sit on the floor leaned against the wall, sipping my tea. I'm a listener, like Lucy (though not nearly as powerful) so a moment of silence is rare, but extremely calming. To use my power and hear nothing is bliss.
I've only about half way finished my tea when someone comes down the stairs, clearly laser focused on something. We're in the middle of a big case, so that's probably it. I had expected it to be George doing some late research or maybe Lucy to see if she can listen to any of the sources down here and get a lead.
To my surprise, it's the other one.
I watch silently as Lockwood pulls out several files and spreads them out on a table. He seems extra stiff, like something is really bothering him. He grumbles something in frustration before collecting the files and putting them back in the cabinet.
He walks over to my wall and sits down a couple feet away. From what I can tell, he hasn't noticed me.
I'm right here, isn't your talent supposed to be sight?
I simply continue sipping on my tea, remaining quiet and looking forward to not disturb him, though he really is an idiot if he doesn't know I'm here.
I thought for a moment that he actually did see me, but he needed space and realized I needed the same so he just didn't acknowledge it. I was certain on this until I heard him crying.
I look over at him. He's still wearing dress pants and his button up and tie. He's still got on his dress shoes. However, his hair was a mess and his hands were currently tangled in the back locks, only making it worse. His face was buried in his knees. I swear I heard a tear drop on to the floor. He was quietly sobbing, clearly trying to not alert anyone but still in pain. Emotional pain, anyhow.
I debate what I should do for a moment. I don't want to startle him, and honestly he seems like he needs this. I decide to just keep drinking my tea and not look at him. I'll let him get it all out before I make my presence known.
It lasts longer than I thought. Perhaps ten minutes? I'm not the best with comprehending passage of time but that seems right enough. Regardless of the details, it was a long time to sit here holding my breath and listening to his suffering.
Finally, he sniffs and wipes his eyes. I'm still looking straight ahead holding my cup, only seeing him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his hands back and forth over his hair a few times. I close my eyes.
"JESUS FUCKI-"
I snap my head towards Lockwood. He's now on his back with his legs closest to me, propped up on one arm and looking at me as if I'm a ghost. I can properly see his face now. His dark circles seem more prominent than usual and his eyes are red and puffy. His nose is red. His cheeks are discolored. He looks abnormally pale. His lashes have been thickened and darkened by his tears. It was truly a sight.
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?"
"I was here before you."
"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? YOU SAW ALL OF THAT?"
"Shhh you'll wake up the others, we both know how lightly George sleeps while we're in the midst of a case. Anyhow, you seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to interrupt. It's not like I watched you."
"But... You saw it all. You heard everything!"
"Lockwood, I hope you realize I think no less of you."
"What?"
"I- oh gosh you can't be comfortable like that. Sit up, why don't you?" He hesitantly pushes himself up and leans against the wall again. "I'm worried about you."
"Theres no need to be-"
"Bullshit. You can't keep concealing your emotions like this. It's okay to be overwhelmed or stressed or overall upset for any reason. You always act like everything is wonderful but it's not. I don't know if it ever has been."
He looks down. "(Y/n)... It's not that easy-"
"I never said anything about it being easy. Of course it's hard. I can't even imagine how you feel owning an agency so young, having all that pressure on your shoulders. It's terrifying to be vulnerable."
"Is that why you're in the basement in the early hours of the morning, drinking herbal tea?"
I hum. "I just couldn't sleep, and I like herbal tea."
"Now who's bullshitting?" The corners of his mouth tug up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You much prefer green. Herbal simply calms you down. You only ever drink herbal tea when you're upset."
"How..."
"I notice things, (y/n). Lots of things. Don't think I don't hear the kettle during the midnight hours at least three times a week. The peculiar thing is I never hear anyone go back up the stairs and whenever I go into the kitchen, it's empty."
I look down. How'd he make this about me so quickly?
"Tell me, (y/n), do you spend your nights in the basement often?"
"... No. Only when I can't sleep."
"So... Often." He nods. "Why don't you stay in the library? It's much more inviting."
"I don't want to bother you. That's where you are most nights."
"You could never bother me."
"Stop, you were the one crying a few moments ago, this isn't about me."
He sighs. "It was worth a shot."
"Now, what's bothering you?"
"Uh... Nothing, really."
"Lockwood."
"It's just the case, that's all."
"That's a lie and we both know it."
He let's out a noise of exasperation. "Fine, you really want to know? It's my parents."
"Your parents?" I ask softly as I scoot closer to him.
He nods. "They died when I was six years old. You really have no idea what it's like to have such a great life until suddenly you don't and it all gets ripped away from you without warning and nobody will take you in so you have to fend for yourself before your age even reaches double digits."
"Actually... I think I can relate more than you realize."
"How can you possibly relate?" He almost sounds angry. I don't blame him, I never told him my story. I kept it to myself even after living with other people all this time. I moved here with a purpose, to start new. Therefore, my past never happened according to anyone else. I was another person then. I've left all of that behind, taking only the nightmares and memories with me.
"My parents were murdered when I was eight." I look straight ahead. "Nobody really wants to adopt a kid who's just began to really get strong in their talent for hearing brutal murders and death. It freaks adults out. So I was on my own until I found you guys."
His expression softens. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry, I... Wait, you were fourteen when you applied. That's six years."
"It was hard but I managed. The whole ghost hunting agent thing isn't so bad. Once you've been forced to watch your parents get nothing short of quartered right in front of your sensitive, innocent eyes, you can watch anyone else get ghost touched no big deal."
"I'm sorry, quartered?" His eyes are wide.
"Yeah, are you familiar with the French Revolution?"
"I'm familiar enough to hope you were talking about a different type of quartering."
I shook my head. "It was intense. I still think of it every time I close my eyes."
"I can't even imagine..."
"I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I only wanted you to know I'll understand. You aren't as alone as you believe."
He nods slowly. "I see... Thank you... For sharing, I mean."
"Of course. So now that you know I can at least sort of understand what you're feeling, what's going on with you?"
He sighs. "I don't know... Sometimes I just..."
"Miss them?"
"... Yeah." He nods. "Yeah I miss them a lot. I miss them all the time but sometimes when I think about it it's not so bad, it's let me do what I've done, accomplish all of this. Other times..."
"It's mentally suffocating."
"Mentally suffocating... Yeah that's a good word for it. Like it's put a sheet over your brain to prevent it from getting oxygen, but you can still physically breathe with your lungs for the most part."
I nod. "Yeah, it's frightening. George has a book on it he was telling me about some time."
"George knows you feel like this sometimes?"
"No, but we often discuss our readings, trade books, recommend authors or titles... Things of the sort. I haven't told anyone about my past. Except you of course."
"Well aren't I special," he flashes one of his signature Lockwood smiles.
I roll my eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, your ego is already so inflated I fear it might burst."
"Oh haha you love my charisma."
"Is that what we're calling it?" I smile at him.
He laughs. Not his public press laugh, but a true, genuine laugh. One that I've never heard from him before. It makes me feel a little bit warmer with emotion.
"You know, most nights I stay awake in the library simply because I can't stand the solitude of my room."
"What?"
"I know, it's silly-"
"No, not at all! I come down here for the same reason!"
"You do?" He raises his eyebrows, sounding surprised. "I thought you just worried over cases or, well now I thought you thought about your past but-"
"No, it's like..." I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Like the silence is too loud and the space is too big for just me, even though my bed hardly fits properly."
"Exactly! Like I don't have anything to focus on except for the sensory deprivation and my anxieties."
"Yes! Oh my goodness I can't believe you get it!"
"I thought I was the only one!" He laughs again, different this time. It sounds almost relieved. "Say... Maybe we could help each other out."
I raise an eyebrow. "Help each other out? How so?"
"Well, feel free to decline if you want and we'll never speak of this proposal again, but perhaps we could try spending the night in the same room."
"But..." I get that warm feeling again, more intense this time. "Each room only has one bed..."
"Yes well..." Despite the horrid lighting of the basement, I could faintly see a light pink tint spanning across his nose and blotching on other, seemingly random, spots on his face. "Like I said I understand if you decline and if that is your choice we can pretend I never said anything... However... I feel it may be beneficial to the both of us to have a... companion in the lonely, deafeningly silent hours of the night. If it works, splendid we can finally get some proper sleep. If it doesn't, we each return to our respective seperate rooms and carry on as if nothing ever happened."
"..." I nod slowly. "Okay."
"Ah- really?" He turns to face me more. "In all honesty I thought you would detest the idea."
"Do you still want-"
"Yes! I mean," he clears his throat, "uh... Yeah, the offer still stands."
"Perfect."
"Well then." He stands up and offers me his hand. "Shall we?"
"Oh you mean like right now! Alright then." I take his hand and he pulls me up. He chuckles and leads me to his room.
"I uh... I'll go take this cup back to the kitchen and let you get changed and what not."
"Oh- right." He pushes back some of his hair. "I'll only be a minute or two."
"Okay, I'll be waiting for whenever you're ready."
He smiles at me as he steps back into his room and closes the door. I swiftly make my way to the kitchen and set my cup in the sink, resolving to wash it in the morning, and return in under a minute.
I wait outside for only about thirty seconds longer before Lockwood opens the door again.
"Sorry I took so long."
"Long? Lockwood that was- wait."
"What? Is something the matter?" He takes his hand off of the door handle and peeks his head out around the corner.
"No, just... You're wearing a shirt."
"Oh, well..." He stepped aside, inviting me in, and closed the door behind me "Yes in fact I am. What about it?"
"Lockwood you've never worn a shirt to bed in all the time I've been here. It's like an unspoken principle in the house; you don't wear shirts to bed and George doesn't wear trousers."
"I didn't realize it was such a disruption of order-"
"Well- that's not what I'm saying." I sigh. I've always struggled with putting things into the right words. "Obviously it's fine if you wear a shirt to bed, I just... I'm just wondering why all of a sudden?"
"Well... I don't know. I suppose I thought you may be a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with me when I've no shirt on." He looked down, those pink splotches returning to his face. "After all, this is only an arrangement of convenience and practicality. It's not like were... uh... going out... or anything..."
"Ah, right..." I can feel myself getting flustered. "Well... I don't mind, really. The whole point is to feel more comfortable going to sleep so if you feel more comfortable with no shirt on, honestly it doesn't make any difference to me."
"... Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, really." I smile reassuringly. "Whatever makes you fall asleep best."
He hesitates. "Well, if you're absolutely positive-"
"Lockwood, I promise you."
He hums lowly. "Alright then. But if you change your mind just tell me and I'll put it back on straight away, I swear-"
"Lockwood!"
"Alright, okay! If you're sure-"
"I'm sure."
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a smile gracing his face. It isn't one of his signature smiles, it's real, quite boyish actually. He seems so young. Sometimes I forget how young we really are, but then again, all youth since The Problem has forgotten how young they really are.
I try my best to appear to be disinterested and looking away as he removes his shirt and folds it, neatly placing it in the bottom right drawer of his dresser. Of course, I watch the whole thing unfold. I'm only trying to appear as if I'm not.
"Alright, well..." He awkwardly rubs his arm. I've never seen him seem so nervous before. "I suppose now is when we uh... get into bed, then..."
"Yes it does seem like that happens now..." I slowly nod.
"Well uhm... After you." He gestures toward the bed.
"Oh no, please, it's your bed, you go ahead first." I wave my hands.
"No no I insist. You're my... guest? Is that the appropriate term for this? What do we call this?" He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit..."
"Nervous?"
"To say the least."
We both laugh a little bit. There really was no need for it to be so nerve wrecking. We had already agreed that if it doesn't go well we pretend nothing happened. Nobody needs to know.
"Here, why don't we just both get in at the same time?" I offer.
"Yes! Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He goes to the side of the bed opposite of me.
It's still extremely tense as the both of us climb in under the covers. There's plenty of space in between us. I'm nearly hanging off the edge, no doubt Lockwood is as well.
Fuck it.
I move onto the bed more so I'm a comfortable ways on. "Lockwood?"
"Yes?"
"Can I be frank for a moment?"
"Well I think I'd prefer you to stay (y/n) but I suppose whatever makes you happy-"
"Oh shut up." He laughs one of those real laughs again. I nearly melt.
"What would you like to talk about?"
I take a deep breath, admittedly, his joke (however stupid) managed to cut some of the tension. "This isn't going to work unless we get over ourselves and actually share the bed. Like real sharing."
He pauses. "You're right. The question is, how far are we going?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... Well..." He huffs. "If we're being frank-"
"I prefer Anthony, but I suppose-"
"Oh shut up, it really isn't funny." Despite his words, he was smiling again. "I see your point now."
"Well, what is it you were going to say, Frank?"
"Please don't." He laughs, making me smile more.
"I'm listening."
He inhales deeply. "Well, how far are we going as in... Are we simply laying next to one another and trying to go to sleep or... to be blunt, are we spooning?"
I nearly chocked on my own saliva. Blunt was certainly one way to say it.
"Well... Whatever makes you comfortable. Honestly I think it would work best if we... Uh... Did the latter, but I don't want to make you-"
"I was actually hoping you'd say that-"
He sighs, sounding almost... Relieved?"
"Really?"
"Yes, I-" he rolls over, bringing us from being over a foot apart to our noses now almost touching. "Goodness you are much closer than I thought-"
"Sorry, I-" I start to move back, but he puts his hand on my waist, gently stopping me.
"No no I uh... Well if we're going to uh... You know, uhm, we're going to have to be close anyway so..."
"Right, yeah..."
He softly pulls me closer using his hand that still rests on my waist. I move towards him until my hands are pressed to his chest and our legs are touching under the covers. His face is splotchy red again, the most intense I've ever seen it, though I can't imagine how flustered I must appear.
"Uhm... May I?" He starts to wrap his leg around mine.
"Ah..." I nod, unable to trust my voice.
And so now we lay here, about two seconds away from being puddles of awkwardness and mild embarrassment. He's warm. Very warm. It's kind of nice being this close to him.
I've always found him attractive since the moment I saw him. He is, objectively, a good looking guy.
Then I got to know him a little bit. He and I would often bicker and pester one another, some times seemingly more serious than others, but for the most part it was all in jest. Making jabs at each other is just what we do.
I think I fell for him more and more over my time here, but tonight I saw a new side of him. A side that really pushed me over the edge of having a bit of a crush on him to trying to stop myself from kissing him at any given moment.
"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He brings a hand up to my forehead. "You're awful warm and you look... Distressed."
"Anthony?"
His gaze softened. I don't think anyone has called him that in... well who knows how long? Too long. "Yes? Is something the matter?"
"No I just..." I make eye contact with him, effectively rendering myself speechless.
He inches closer. "Are you sure? This is quite the... intimate position... I wouldn't want to make you..."
By this time, our noses are back to almost touching, but even closer than before. He tilts his head just enough to avoid colliding them.
"Make me what? Uncomfortable?" I glance down at his lips, quickly looking back to his eyes to avoid suspicion. "Anthony, you could never-"
He kisses me.
Holy shit.
Anthony Lockwood is kissing me.
I'm in Anthony Lockwood's bed.
I'm kissing Anthony Lockwood!
"I'm sorry-" he pulls back. "Oh no... I shouldn't have done that... Shit... Oh shit I'm so sorry-"
I kiss him again. "Shut up, will you? I just had a life altering moment here and I'm trying to enjoy it."
"You- you liked it?"
"Of course I did. Anthony, I've liked you since... Well I suppose there wasn't a single moment I could pick out but-"
"I love it when you call me that."
I smile. "Call you what? Anthony? Well that is your name."
"It hasn't been used in years. Not by itself, anyhow. It sounds nice coming from your lips."
"I like your lips." It takes a moment to register what I just said. "Wait, I didn't mean-"
"You like kissing me~" He teases me, putting on his Lockwood Smile.
"Oh shut up!" I put my head on his chest to hide my face. "Of course I do..."
"Well... You know what I would like more than just kissing you?" He carefully lifts my head up with two fingers under my chin.
"Hm?"
He hesitates for a moment. "I'd like to be your boyfriend."
"What? Really?"
"If you'll have me, that is-"
"Of course I'll have you, you prick!" I lightly punch his chest. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"
He shakes his head. "I can't say I do."
"Well there wasn't a specific time but I think I started to think about it more and more around the time we were working the Brentic case."
"The B- (y/n) that was at least a year and a half ago."
"I'm well aware."
"... Huh."
"What?"
"I think I've known since the Dalkins case."
"Lockwood, that was long before the Brentic case-"
"It seems my charm worked then."
"Oh shut up! Go to sleep!"
He laughs a bit. "So... Are we...?"
"... I think we are..."
"Wonderful! Splendid! Perfect! Grand! Fanta-"
I laugh. "Anthony shut up!"
He goes quiet, but the smile remains on his face. "Do we tell the others?"
"... Nah. It's funnier if we just let them figure it out. But we don't necessarily have to hide it either."
He nods. "It'll take all my self control to not shout it from the rooftops."
"Oh hush." I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Get some sleep, lover boy. You clearly need it."
He kisses me once more, shorter this time, before closing his eyes and pulling me closer to his chest. He falls asleep surprisingly quickly, his breaths going even and his mouth falling slightly agape in no time at all.
I watch him for a moment. Once again, he really shows his age for only a second. I push some of his hair away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir just a bit.
Before I know it, my eyelids feel heavy. It becomes increasingly harder to keep them open, to stay awake. Soon enough, I'm drifting into sleep with pleasant dreams to greet me and Lockwood by my side.
How lucky am I?
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teyamsatan · 1 year
Text
Illicit Affairs | Chapter I: Willow
Pairing: Neteyam x f!Human!Reader
Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and disease
WC: 3,4k words
A/N: Sooo.. I kinda did something. This is the first fanfic I have written that will actually see the light of day, and also the first piece of writing (outside of master's dissertations, papers, scientific essays etc) that I have done since probably high school, which is longer ago than I'd like to admit. Anyway, I have been hyperfixated on Avatar recently, ATWOW fully bringing back my love and obsession for Pandora that I have had since 2009. I adore the new movie and the Sully kids, but I have a special place in my heart for Neteyam, so here we go. Let me know what you guys think. I work full time as a PhD student, so I'll try my best to write in my spare time and hopefully I can get this done the way I truly want to. This story is also loosely inspired by the incredible @forever--darling and her "One of Us" Neteyam fanfic, which I adore and have probably memorised by now with the amount of times I have read it.
I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine
“Wake up, Ace. It’s late already and there’s so much to do today, remember?” Norm’s voice pulled you out of a beautiful dream, one where you were flying on your chosen Ikran, high above the clouds, the worries…this lab. Albeit hard to swallow, you were almost relieved to be woken up, as feeding out-of-reach fantasies and dreams could lead to no good, anyhow. 
“I’m up… Jesus, Norm.” You felt yourself rise from your warm and comfortable bed and the feeling of your bare feet touching the cold, hard floor of the living quarters of the lab made you swallow a curse. 
“We left you some breakfast, get ready and meet us in the lab in 30, okay? We have the samples ready for you and you can run them after we’ve talked it through.” 
“Aye, aye, captain.” 
This was your life. You, among a few other people, were one of the only humans left on Pandora after the war took them back to Earth more than 17 years ago. Unlike the others, though, you were born here, on this foreign planet, the only home you’ve ever known. There was one more, a beautiful, feisty young man with a dark heritage, who liked to think that he is as much Pandoran as the actual natives. His name was Spider, and although you grew up together, there was not much you could say you had in common. He was wild and adventurous, has been his whole life; fully willing to immerse himself in the Na’vi ways and almost demanding a place amongst the people.
Although you have your doubts, he says the people were accepting of him, as he managed to befriend the most important family of the nearby Omatikaya tribe: the Sullys. Jake Sully, a former dream walker, rose to prominence as Toruk Makto, rider of Last Shadow. He brought multiple clans together to defeat the Sky People in their brutal quest for wealth and colonisation. He succeeded, after which he became Olo’yektan, leader of the Omatikaya. He is now fully Na’vi, after completing a consciousness transfer that allowed him to leave behind his human form and forever live as one of the people. It had never been done before. Jake was a great man, who became a mediator between the Na’vi and the humans left on Earth. His children, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, were brought up to know English and be accepting of everyone, regardless where they came from, as long as they had pure intentions and a strong heart. Spider was considered one of them. And, surprisingly, you were, too. 
Your mum was a medic and researcher, brought here many moons ago to assist the Dr. Grace Augustin and her team in their quest to understand Pandora and its miraculous biology. Your dad, a former Master Sergeant in the US Air Force, joined the RDA for their military purposes. You never met your dad. He died when the Sky People attacked, although no one knows for sure which side he ended up taking. Your mum didn’t even know she was pregnant with you at the time, that’s how new everything was. Your mum loved your dad and she maintained her belief that he ended up doing the right thing in the end. You believed that as a child, but now are not so sure. Nevertheless, you still kept his dog tag, in a drawer at the bottom of your desk, a reminder of where you come from and what mistakes not to repeat. 
Your mum died where you were 10. It was the worst day of your life. The cancer, which slowly spread in the beginning, overtook her being one faithful day, which you will never be able to erase from your memory. There is no chemotherapy, no radiation therapy, no drugs that could have prevented this, not here, not on Pandora. Your mum made a decision to remain on this planet she loved more than her own and it eventually killed her. She had no regrets, she said. She was happy to have lived and loved and died here, among Eywa. The Na’vi loved her. She was good friends and a mentor to Neytiri and Jake, both of whom agreed to give her a Na’vi send off. You were there that day, one of the few times you had visited the Home Tree. You remember the pouring rain, falling so hard it washed away the tears spilling from your eye almost as soon as they emerged. You remember Lo’ak and Kiri, your beautiful friends that have always been there for you, mourning with you. Your mum was their favourite aunt. She introduced them to music and films, and showed all of you her favourite books and painters and made sure you all understood that humans, despite their many flaws, have beauty and love and good in them, that no matter what, will prevail. “It will prevail because of you. Because you will carry it along and share it. You will revel in the beauty and fight to bring it back because what better way is there to live?”
You finished breakfast quickly, some dry toast with some fruit Kiri brought you the last time she visited and made your way back to the lab. You found Norm and Max, alongside two other human scientists, Tim and Claire, sitting on chairs next to the lab benches, discussing plans for the week. 
“There she is, the brightest of us all.” You smirked at the compliment, raising your eyebrows in amusement and sitting down next to Claire. 
“You’ve done great work last week, Ace The ELISAs show promise that Relensa might have some effect against this type of Pandora virus. I need you to now repeat it with the samples we’ve provided and also include a different type of positive control to the experiment, if possible.”
“Will do. How about a combination therapy? I know Relensa is not the only type of anti-viral therapy we have available. Amantidin, maybe? We have to go at this from all angles, you know?” 
“Our Amantidin reserve is running severely short, but give it a try. Try a dose-response? Maybe 100 nano molars to 1 micro molar? Try 1milimolar as a positive control?”
This was your life. Unlike Spider, you avoided the clan. You did not want to be the walking reminder of everything they’ve lost. You were happy to sit back and dedicate your life to helping from the shadows. Your mum was a medic and a researcher, one of the brightest in the world. She wrote the book on Na’vi anatomy and physiology, she wanted to understand the people and hopefully help them mitigate losses brought by disease. You continued that work. Although young, you learned everything there was to learn. Not like you had anything else to do. You worked as a scientist and a nurse and a doctor if needs be. You patched humans up, stitched their wounds, ran experiments on Pandora pathogens and tried to find a cure against viral and bacterial diseases that plagued the Na’vi. You spent your life in the lab, and in the adjacent hub, learning, working out and playing the guitar and piano your mum taught you when you were really young. You couldn’t say you loved it, loved being here all the time, but you were content knowing you were, in your own way, making up for your species’ past mistakes. 
Around lunchtime, you heard commotion from the entryway. A very familiar voice reverberated through the hallways. Your lips raised in a soft smile. Lo’ak. 
Removing your lab coat, goggles and gloves, you made your way towards the origin of the sound. The tall, much-taller-than-you young man picked up a breathing mask from the designated shelf and waved at you with unwavering enthusiasm. You loved this boy. Your brother, for all intents and purposes, your partner-in-crime for all time. He loved you, too, you knew that, and you thought in a different life, in a different universe, you were soulmates, braving life’s tough storms together. 
“Brought you lunch, angel.” Your nickname for you made you roll your eyes. You hated it, but the more you hated it, the more he used it so you remained silent. “I thought you could use a break from the stale excuse you guys call food around here.” 
Lo’ak spoke English with you most of the time. He took to your parents’ (and his dad’s) culture the most out of all the kids. You spent a lot of your childhood together, hunched around a computer with old reruns of shows your mum loved in her youth, shows and movies that were way before even her time. She said she loved seeing what Earth looked like before humans killed their mother. Shows like Gilmore Girls, Friends and Modern Family were some of her favourites. You devoured them as a child, and Lo’ak did so too, with you. You drove her crazy as children, and drove Norm and Max crazy as teenagers, both trying to understand references and sayings, buildings and activities, games and idiosyncrasies. The Earth you grew up watching and reading up was beautiful, a star in the night sky you will never be able to touch. 
Lo’ak made his way to the dining room of the hub, and lay several carefully-packed items on the table. Fresh teylu, cooked over fire and Pandora vegetables, all full of colour and flavour, all much better than anything that could come out of this place. You realise that you are starving as soon as you lay your eyes on them. Before you even sat down, you dug your fingers in and quickly ate some teylu, groaning at the delicious sweet meaty flavour. It was your favourite, and Lo’ak knew. He laughed at your apparent desperation and motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, and you both sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and the food he provided. 
“How’s training going? I haven’t seen you in a few days.” 
“I die a little bit inside every time you make me remember I spend my days training like a little robot. It’s going fine. Tiring, you know? My dad is fully back in his Marine ways. He knows it’s been enough time that the humans are bound to return sooner or later. He says they’d never leave this world, and all its untapped riches alone without a fight. So it’s a lot of military training… if we walk like them, talk like them and fight like them, it might bring us some sort of advantage, you know?” 
“Yeah, I know. I know it’s a pain, but he’s only doing this to protect you guys. He’s right. The humans are bound to return one day and when they do, we have to be prepared.” He doesn’t know this, but you have also been training, learning about guns, going through your dad’s old manuals and whatever else the RDA has left behind that could possibly be of use. You use the guns that are in the hub to learn how to aim, shoot, strip field, reload and clean the weapons, so you too can be prepared when the time comes. You might be stuck in a weak human body, but you will not be weak. 
“Neteyam’s driving me nuts. He used to be fun, remember that? He’s such a killjoy, it’s hard to stomach being around him anymore. He’s always giving out orders, always making sure everything is in order and perfect, like him. He’s been training like crazy, and sticking to my dad like he’s some sort of fungus you can’t get rid of. Drives me crazy.”
“Hey, don’t talk about your brother like that. There’s a line, Lo’ak. Neteyam only wants the best for you guys, and he’s the oldest. He has to carry the burden of being the responsible one while you guy cause mischief all the time.” 
Neteyam, Jake and Neytiri’s oldest, is more Na’vi than all the other children combined, in both looks and personality. Whilst the two middle children, Lo’ak and Kiri have five fingers, eyebrows and a more human appearance, Neteyam is all Neytiri. He’s tall and lean and seems like he was born with a bow in hand. A true warrior, you always found him a tad intimidating. Just like his mum, he has his apprehensions about humans and avatars, and although he used to come to the hub quite often when he was younger, mostly to keep an eye on his siblings, the visits have become a rarity as of recent times. 
You wonder how the young man changed in the time you haven’t seen him. You used to be close as children, or at least that’s what you thought. Whereas Spider took to Lo’ak and Kiri, their mischievous personalities a good match for each other, you took to the oldest Sully boy. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he used to look at you like a puzzle he was trying to solve, but couldn’t. He used to sit in the back as you used to play piano, and his gaze on you used to make your skin blush and your heart race. You tried not to think about the pang of hurt that rose in your chest as you remembered that he essentially abandoned you, without so much as a farewell. 
“Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” Lo’ak interrupted your train of thought and you were half grateful that you didn’t have to think about Neteyam anymore. 
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“I was saying you’re right, I know I should be more understanding, I am happy I don’t have to be the one to carry all of responsibility, but it’s hard not to hold a grudge when it seems my brother was abducted by aliens and replaced with a weird, no-fun replica of himself.” 
You groaned at the young Sully’s ongoing verbal attacks, but said no more. Whatever was going on between the two Sully boys was, at the end of the day, none of your business. 
“Anyway…” Lo’ak started, a mischievous grin appearing on his beautiful face, “I know something you don’t.” 
“Mmm, what is that?”
“I’m not telling you, but let’s just say I think it will make you very happy.” 
“Well that’s just cruel. You know I hate surprises.”
After lunch, Lo’ak joined you in the recreation hub, where you kept a guitar and the piano that the humans left behind. You didn’t feel like going back to work just yet. You sat down on the cold floor and picked up your copy of Pride and Prejudice, your mum’s favourite book. The book was coming apart at the seams, worn down from all the times you have held it in your hands, as if gripping it tighter would bring her back to you, even if for only a split second. You sighed as you passed the book to Lo’ak and motioned for him to put it on the table next to him.
“Sing for me, will you? I missed hearing your voice.” 
You smiled up at him. Nobody knew you like Lo’ak did. Nobody accepted you the way Lo’ak did. Both of you felt out of place in this world, like you didn’t quite belong anywhere. He has spent many an hour confessing how alone he’s felt all his life. You’d like to think you helped. You picked up your guitar and played a familiar song, one you knew he loved.
“Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind , as if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring, and there was one prize I'd cheat to win
The more that you say, the less I know
Wherever you stray, I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans
That's my man”
You sat like this for hours, laughing and playing and singing. You tried to teach him a couple of chords on the guitar, which looked puny in his massive hands. With a loud thud, the open to the recreation centre swung open, making both of your heads turn in shock. 
“Lo’ak, what the fuck?” 
The harsh tone came from a man, a man you barely recognised anymore. Tall and muscular, he was not the same Neteyam you last saw. He was adorning a carefully crafted neck piece that matched his hunter’s chest piece and the knife holder he kept by his hips. You took a second to adjust to the man in front of you, that you haven’t seen in so long, that will always have a special place in your heart. Your gaze eventually fell on his face, which, like the rest of him, matured so much in all that time apart. He was beautiful. His hair was freshly braided and you couldn’t help but stare at the beaded strands that framed his face. As much as his body and face changed, they didn’t hold a candle to his eyes. The big yellow orbs that always looked at you curiously and intently were now focused on Lo’ak with rage flashed across them. 
“You were supposed to meet me at the Home Tree a fucking hour ago, Lo’ak. Dad asked you to join the hunting party and pull your weight for once, remember that? Are you physically unable to do anything that is ever asked of you?” 
He is yet to even spare a glance in your direction. You felt your blood pressure rising at the oldest Sully, but you pushed it down to look at Lo’ak, who was staring daggers at his older brother. As he was opening his mouth to undoubtedly say something that would get him in even more trouble than he was already in, you cut him off. 
“It’s my fault.” You say in Na’vi. You doubted Neteyam was in the mood for English, so as to not escalate the tensions further, you opted for your semi-decent Na’vi. “I needed his help with some samples Norm got for me that I couldn’t identify. I’m done now, though. Sorry for taking him from his duties.”
His eyes finally snapped from Lo’ak and laded on your frame. You saw his lips parting in confusion and then settle in a firm line. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You changed. A lot. Your hair was now close to reaching your narrow waist, which he hated himself for noticing. You were wearing what the humans called a “top”, that was cut above your abdomen and had the word “Stanford” written across it. He’s sure he’s seen it before, although he couldn’t place where. You were wearing bottoms, short and blue, with cuts in them, which Neteyam didn’t get. Why are your clothes ripped? It’s not like you fought some animal in the wild, you never got out. He couldn’t help noticing how lean you had become, so lean, in fact, he could trace your muscles with precision, something he is rarely able to do with humans. Your species was puny and weak, which is why they needed avatars and exo-suits to survive on Pandora. Realizing he was staring, his eyes moved from you back to Lo’ak, and motioned for him to get up. Although he huffed and puffed, Lo’ak obliged without saying a word. He turned around before exiting the room, giving you one last exasperated look. You winked at him and clicked your tongue in the direction of the forest, a small smile on your face. This skxawng. 
“Hey, you.” You called after Neteyam in English, as soon as Lo’ak disappeared from your line of view. You don’t know what you expected, but you had to try. He turned around and his eyes met yours. It was like looking at a stranger. 
“I really have to go, Y/N.” He said, with a deep voice and slight accent, and his eyes fell on the floor as soon as he noticed the look of hurt that crossed your face. 
“Fine, go.” You said, quickly composing yourself. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can hurt your feelings. You turned around, and busied yourself cleaning up, not sparing a second look in his direction. His gaze shifted back to your frame, and with a sigh, he made his way out of the lab and your life, once more. 
1K notes · View notes
random-thot-generator · 9 months
Text
Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 7
(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)
SEVEN: Can't Let Go
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SIMON GHOST RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER
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Summary: A week has passed since the argument in the alley, and Reader's hurt has been replaced with a seething anger that leads her to make a spur-of-the-moment decision out of spite. However, her poor choices lead to a potentially dangerous situation.
(PLEASE MIND THE TAGS. This chapter could be triggering for some readers.)
Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Allusions to sex, Threat of dub/non-con sexual situation, Brief Violence - Reader's a scrapper, Threat of violence though not acted upon... yet, No use of Y/N
(Notes: Ngl, this was a bitch to write. I had no less than three other alternative versions of this chapter, before choosing this one, but thankfully had some help along the way. Massive props to @glitterypirateduck for the much-needed advice and input. I ended up leaving the badger out, babe, but I hope you like the chapter, regardless. 😉👍)
[Image via TENOR]
Word Count: 5020
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Chapter 7
-
...I ain't tryna find fate, it's too late to save face I can't get away, maybe there's no mistakes
You break me, then I break my rules Last time was the last time too It's fucked up, I know, but I'm still
Outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do 'Cause I can't let go...
—Post Malone, 'Chemical'
-
The walk to work is nice.
Blue skies and tattered clouds arch overhead, the remnants of puddles from an early morning shower reflecting the first sun you've seen in days. The world smells fresh and green and new, the signs of spring brightening your mood. It makes you feel light, the first time in a week you've felt like lifting your head to look around.
The first time since your fight with Riley.
You push the thought away. You're not going there today. Not again. You worked through the worst of the hurt and disappointment, and now you've settled into a comfortable, quiet fury that you keep wrapped around you like a warm blanket when the chill of loneliness creeps into your bed at night. You don't miss him, you don't want him, and you sure as hell don't need him. He's just one more bitter lesson you've had to learn the hard way. You won't make the same mistake, again.
Well... not again, anyway.
A car beeps its horn behind you, and you glance back to see Jerry Finch, the lorry driver who delivers the kegs to the pub, waving at you from a black sports car. You give a half-hearted smile and wave back, your steps slowing when he steers his car to the curb.
His window rolls down, rap music thumping before he turns it down. Leaning on his arm in the open window, Jerry tips his chin down to look over his aviator sunglasses at you, a smooth half-smile on his lips. "How ya doin', Dee? Headin' to work?"
You nod, stepping closer to his car, trying to ignore the way he looks you up and down before meeting your gaze. He gives you an appreciative smile and ticks his eyebrows up, ever the flirt. You sniff in amusement and squint against the sun to see him better. "Morning, Jer." You nod at his car. "No lorry today. This your day off?"
He gives you a charming, almost boyish smile and nods. "Yeah. Had some business here in the village, though." He glances down towards the pub, then slants his gaze back to you, thumbing at his bottom lip. "I can give ya a lift, if ya like. Goin' that way, anyhow."
You hesitate but then nod in acceptance. It's just an acquaintance from work offering you a ride, nothing wrong with that. He smiles and motions for you to get in, once more letting his eyes wander over your figure while you settle yourself into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt.
"Thank you," you murmur, glancing up at him, then away. Jerry's never been one to hide his interest, taking every opportunity to flirt with you when given half a chance. Of course, it makes you feel good to have a handsome man flirt with you, but it also makes you a little leery, too. You try to be nice, but you don't want to encourage him, something that Fiona fusses about every chance she gets.
"Bloody hell, Dee, give the bloke a chance. He's got a good job, he's good lookin', fit as fuck, an' he's gaggin' t'get with ya. What can it hurt?"
Rationally, you know Fi is right, but you can't help yourself. There's just something about him. You can't put your finger on it but being near him just feels... off. You clear your throat and look out the window, your eyes catching on a dark gray Gladiator parked in front of the Tea Room.
Riley.
You can see him standing inside through the tall Georgian windows, chatting with Margie, the owner. She's handing him a bag and a to-go cup that you know will be filled with English breakfast tea brewed strong, with a splash of milk and two sugars, the way he likes. Your heart squeezes in your chest as you watch him exit the building and get in his truck.
Riley's been avoiding the pub when you're on shift. Fiona says he's been showing up in the evening, sitting in his usual spot while nursing his Dewar's. She also doesn't fail to mention Tessa Harker has been chatting him up quite a bit lately, too. It hurts to hear it, but you only give a tight smile and mutter, "Good for him," much to your friend's irritation.
Fiona and Ollie have both noticed the way you and Riley have been avoiding each other, but apparently Riley has kept mum about the argument, as have you. You had wondered if he would spread word about your other job at the Grind out of spite, but no one has mentioned it so far, and for that you're relieved, but you're still wary of what he might do with the information.
"So, what time ya gettin' off work?"
The question draws your attention back to the big man sitting beside you. Did he notice you staring, you wonder. "Um, I get off work at five."
"Then what?" he persists, and you know where this is going.
You shrug, keeping your eyes focused straight ahead. "Then back home, I suppose."
"Come out with me, instead," he suggests, shooting another one of his charming smiles your way. "There's a nice Italian bistro in Blackheath. I deliver to 'em. Nice place, good food."
"Oh, um, well..."
He chuckles and reaches over to pat your knee. "No rush, sweetheart. Got all day t'think it over, yeah?"
Again, the feeling that something is off with him comes to the fore of your brain, but you smile, regardless. "Yeah, sure. I'll... think about it," you reply, knowing your mind is already made up. You just have to think of a nice way to let him down. Again.
Jerry gives your knee another pat, which turns into a sly caress that has you flinching away. He huffs a laugh at your reaction, giving you a playful 'just-kidding' grin, before he lifts his hand and places it back on the wheel. He has big, beefy hands, thick fingers with blunt tips, a working man's hands. You usually find that attractive, have often admired Riley's large hands and long, supple fingers, but for some reason, the sight of Jerry's ham fists curled around the steering wheel makes you feel uncomfortable.
The car comes to a stop in front of the pub, and you're quick to unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. "Thanks for the ride, Jer," you say, one foot already resting on the pavement.
"Think nothin' of it, love. Glad t'give you a ride anytime," he murmurs, suggestion heavy in his tone. He flashes another smile at you, winking again. He does that a lot, and you find it annoying. "I'll stop by later, see if ya want to go out for dinner, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah, sure. Okay."
You get out of his car and sketch a little wave as he pulls away, then turn to head inside the pub, only to come up short. Riley's standing right in front of the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes fixed on Jerry's car, which is now rounding the green.
"Friend o' yers?"
It's the first words he's said to you since last Sunday in the alley, and the way he says it instantly gets your hackles up. You square off with him, casting a disparaging look over him. The proper thing would have been to offer you an apology, but you know better than to expect anything like that from him. Instead, he leads with a question that sounds both accusatory and insulting, all at the same time.
Typical.
"Shouldn't you already know? That's what you're good at, isn't it? Keeping tabs on me?" you snap, glaring at him.
You make a point to bump his shoulder as you pass by him and enter the pub. He's on your heels in an instant, following you through the door, obviously irritated by your response. You ignore him as you round the bar, pulling the strap of your bag over your head before placing it on top of the bar to take out your phone and a paperback.
"Wot? Ya got nothin' else t'say, doll? Tha's not like ya."
Your eyes snap up to glare at him. "Thought we said all that needed to be said last Sunday," you hissed at him, trying to keep your voice down, knowing Ollie would be back in his office.
Simon plants both hands on the bar and leans in, his dark eyes scathing as they pin you to the spot. "I wasn't finished talkin'. It was you that fuckin' ran off," he growls in return, but manages to keep his voice to a low rumble.
Your brows shoot up in mock surprise. "Oh! How terribly rude of me. I suppose I should have stood there until you were finished insulting me." Your eyes narrowed as you sneered at him. "Fuck you for that, by the way."
He's wearing his black surgical mask today, so his angry scowl is more evident than usual. He shoves off the bar in a fit of temper, hand coming up to jab a finger at you. "Like I told ya last Sunday, me an' you need t'talk, an' this time yer goin' t'bloody listen to wha—"
Your snort cuts him off. "We have nothing left to discuss. You made your opinion of me quite clear. But hey! At least I know where I stand with you now. Don't worry, though. I'll keep my distance. Wouldn't want to embarrass you by being seen associating with a slag, right?"
"Dammit t'hell, Dee! I never fuckin' called ya that. I never thought that. Would ya just bloody lis—"
"Riley, lad!"
You both turn to see Ollie heading your way, a pleased smile on his face. Shooting Riley one last venomous glare, you turn your back on him and make for the swinging door leading into the kitchen, his frustrated growl giving you a sense of grim satisfaction as you slip through the door. Fuck him. You hope he stays pissed off for the rest of the day.
You can hear the two men talking as you go back to hang up your jacket, eyes wandering over the unused kitchen as you pass through. What you wouldn't give for a kitchen this size, and here this one sits, unused and abandoned. You had mentioned a time or two that adding a small menu would bring in more business, but since the last cook quit, Ollie hasn't been too keen to fire up the kitchen again. It's a pity, really.
"Dee, love."
You glance over your shoulder to see Ollie standing at the service window. "What'cha need, Ol?"
Mind makin' me an' Riley a cuppa an' bringin' 'em to the office?"
You frown, wondering what happened to the tea you had seen Riley with before. You shrug it off and nod. "Sure thing, Ol. Be right out with 'em."
"Thanks, love," he says, rapping his knuckles before disappearing from sight.
You rinse out the electric kettle and fill it with water, then plug it in and switch it on before grabbing three mugs and the tea tin. You consider making Riley's tea wrong, just for spite, but that would be petty, even for you, or as Riley would call it, bratty. You sniff. He's a fuckin' brat. A bratty arsehole.
You scoop instant coffee into your own mug then add the tea bags to the other two cups, before going to the fridge to take out the milk. It's become routine for you to make both men's tea, your hands going through the motions while your thoughts wander back to Jerry and his dinner invitation.
Your first instinct is to turn him down, as you have all his other invitations, but the memory of how pissed Riley looked as he watched the other man drive away gives you pause. He always did eye Jerry with open suspicion, his instant dislike of the other man never something he tried to hide. He's never said why he doesn't like Jerry, but it didn't change the fact that it would probably piss Riley off to learn you were going out to dinner with him.
Maybe you are petty after all, because now your mind has changed. You are going on a dinner date this evening after work.
Setting your mug of coffee in the window to retrieve later, you take the other two mugs with you out of the kitchen. Rounding the bar, you head towards the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and Ollie's office, walking slower to not spill any of their tea. You can hear their voices through the door as you stop to announce your presence. It's Riley who opens the door for you, not bothering to move out of your way as you slide past him with an irritated expression.
"Move, ya big lump," you grumble lowly, which gets a soft sniff of amusement from him. Arsehole.
"Ah, thanks, love," Ollie says, reaching out to take his mug. You set Riley's on the edge of his desk near the old club chair where he always sits. "Mind closin' the door on yer way out?" Ollie asks.
You give a nod, turning around to see that Riley is still standing in your way. You go to step around him, and he steps in your way again. You blow out an aggravated breath and raise your eyes to his, the urge to shove him again making your hands twitch. When he quirks a brow up at you, you grit your teeth and glare at him. Then an idea sparks in your brain. You look back over your shoulder at your boss.
"Say, Ol. Ya mind if I cut out a little early this evening? I've got a dinner date with Jerry the lorry driver."
Ollie nearly chokes on his tea before he manages to get his cup set down on his desk. His sharp eyes dart between you and Riley, an odd expression on his face as he tries to make sense of what's going on. He finally clears his throat and gives a curt nod. "Yeah. Sure, love. No problem."
You give him a sweet smile that turns spiteful when you turn your head back to the man in front of you. "Thanks, Ol," you reply, meeting Riley's furious glare. "Excuse me. Need to get back to work."
You can see his hands balling into fists, and it sends a thrill of sadistic glee through you. You'd rather die than look away from him right now, a smirk appearing when he has to hold his tongue and step aside for you. By the time you reach the hallway and close the door behind you, you're damn near giddy. The smirk on your face grows to a full-on wicked grin by the time you reach the bar again.
Satisfied with the good, hard poke you've just given the proverbial bear, you begin your prep work, humming a catchy pop song under your breath.
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You manage to avoid any more close interactions with Riley, though he hangs around the bar your entire shift, giving you a baleful glare every time you draw near. You make it a point to ignore him, chatting with the other customers, talking and laughing like you weren't bothered at all by his brooding presence. You see him visibly stiffen when Jerry comes swaggering in, his signature charming smile already in place.
Before he can speak, you step to the bar and offer him a sweet smile. "Hi, Jer. Ollie said I can leave early, so we can go whenever you like."
Jerry can't hide the surprise on his face, but he swiftly recovers as he leans an elbow on the bar to bring his eyes level with yours. "Good. Been thinkin' 'bout it all day," he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
You stiffen, discomfited by the look in his eye, but try to hide it by ducking to grab your bag from beneath the bar. When you raise up again, a pleasant smile is plastered on your face. "I just need to grab my jacket and tell Ollie I'm leaving, then we can go."
"'Course, sweetheart," Jer replies, watching you as you round the bar and head for the hallway. He catches Riley staring at him and lifts his brows, giving him a smug little smirk, which you honestly think is stupid of him. Despite Jerry's size, you have no doubt Riley would mop the fucking floor with him. You roll your eyes. Men and their stupid bloody posturing.
The sooner you get this over with, the better. This game is quickly losing its appeal.
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Jerry offers to take you home to change if you want, but you decline, honestly not comfortable with the idea of bringing him up to your flat. He seems a little perturbed when you turn down his offer but then shrugs and drives to Blackheath, instead.
As he said, the little bistro is nice, the food delicious. The conversation is lackluster, though, but you weren't really expecting much. Beyond talking about himself, Jerry doesn't seem to hold much interest in other topics. Big surprise.
Once you're back in the car, he drapes his arm over your seat and leans in, a sexy smirk on his face. "So, where to next, sweetheart? Your place or mine?"
Your brows shoot up in mild surprise. "I thought this was just dinner," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "Moving a little fast, don't you think?"
He tips his chin down, giving you a knowing look. "C'mon, Dee. We're both adults here. I've seen how you an' that other barmaid check me out. Not that I'm complainin'." He gives you one of his smarmy winks, and you fight the urge to wrinkle your nose in disdain.
You sniff and give your head a small shake. The audacity of this bloke. Did he honestly think you were just going to drop your knickers because he bought you dinner? "Yeah, I think I'd rather go home by myself. I have work in the morning."
Jerry draws back, blinking. "Are you serious?" When you roll your eyes, he scoffs and tilts his nose up, as if he can't believe you are turning him down. "Whatever. Your loss, sweetheart," he mutters with a slight sneer and starts the car.
The drive back to Banfield is tense and awkward, but you honestly prefer the silence. When Jer finally speaks up, you startle out of your thoughts. "Mind if I take a shortcut?" he asks, his tone off-hand.
You shrug. "Fine with me." If it gets you home quicker, you're all for it.
Yet when he veers off the main road onto a country lane, you frown. You aren't familiar with this particular backroad, but from the direction you're going it doesn't look like you're heading towards home.
"Are you sure this goes to Banfield?"
Jer slants a condescending look at you, a shitty little smirk pulling up a corner of his mouth. "I drive for a livin', sweetheart. Ya really think I'm goin' t'get lost on the way to bloody Banfield?"
Your eyes roll up, but you hold your tongue, yet after another five minutes with nothing even closely resembling civilization in sight, you can't keep quiet. "We should be in Banfield by now. It's just a ten-minute drive from Blackheath. Are you sure you took the right road?" You glance around at the dark, unfamiliar landscape. "I don't even know where the hell we are right now."
"I took the scenic route," Jer drawls, waving a hand. He then drops it on your knee and gives it a squeeze. "Chill out, sweetheart. We'll get there. Eventually."
Apprehension creeps up your spine like the drag of an icy finger. You don't like this. This man, who you really know nothing about, you now realize, is driving you out to the middle of nowhere. "Maybe you should turn around."
Jerry glances over at you again, and this time the look in his eye makes the small hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Maybe you should try to relax." His hand slides up your leg to grip your thigh. "I'd be happy t'pull over an' help ya with that, sweetheart."
And there it is. The reason for getting you out here alone. You aren't even really surprised, always knowing in the back of your mind that there was something off with him, though you chose to ignore it this time, just to spite Riley.
Hindsight really is a bitch sometimes.
"Jer, I told you I wanted to go home," you murmur, trying to keep your voice low and even.
He huffs, a smug expression on his face. "C'mon, Dee. Stop playin' hard t'get. It's jus' me an' you now. Your boyfriend doesn't have t'know. I can keep my mouth shut. It'll be our little secret, yeah?"
"My boyfriend?" you blurt out, confused.
He rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. Sorry. Your friend," he sneers and then scoffs. "Don't act like ya don't know who I'm talkin' 'bout. That scarred up freak with the mask who's always up yer arse."
"What the fuck did you just say?" you choke out, fury strangling your voice. You're ready to claw out his eyes for what he said about Riley.
Jerry waves a dismissive hand at you. "Enough with the games, Dee. I know ya only went out with me t'make him jealous, an' I'm fine with that, really, but don't ya think I deserve some sort of... ya know, compensation for playin' along?"
Rage consumes you, hot and prickling beneath your skin. "Take me home. Now!"
The cold, flat look in his eye chills you to the bone. "Not 'til I get what ya owe me, sweetheart. Don't look so offended. I doubt this is the first time you've paid up for somethin' by lyin' on your back."
The hard slap you deliver to his smug face has him swerving across the narrow road before he slams on the brakes, sluing the car around in the loose gravel. You only manage to free your seatbelt before he grabs you.
"Are ya fuckin' crazy, ya bitch?" he yells in your face, shaking you hard as he shoves you back against your door. "Ya could'a killed us!"
You jab your thumb in his eye for his trouble. He bellows in pain, releasing you to clutch at his face, freeing you to reach behind your back to paw at the latch. The door flies open under your weight and dumps you out backwards onto the gravel. When his hand seizes your ankle in a crushing grip, you frantically kick out with your other foot. Though you're unable to see from your position on the ground, you revel in a brief moment of satisfaction when you feel it make solid contact with his head, and he yells in pain again. Yanking your legs free of the car, you scramble to your feet, snatching your bag from the ground as you sprint for the woods.
Too terrified to look back, you run headlong into the tree line. You stumble through the undergrowth, feeling the spindly branches and thorns tear at your clothes and snag in your hair as it rakes bloody scratches into your exposed skin. You trip over tree roots and stub your toes on stones hidden beneath the moldering ground cover of dead leaves. All the while, Jerry is bellowing like an enraged bull as he thrashes through the foliage somewhere behind you, shouting threats and curses at you the whole time.
When you inevitably fall flat on your face, you skid across the forest floor to hitch up at the base of a huge oak. You have just enough time to crawl behind its massive trunk before Jerry comes crashing through. When you hear him approach, you clap your hand over your nose and mouth to muffle the sound of your gasping breaths, terrified he will hear you. Your eyes go wide when you see him pass by your hiding spot close enough that you could reach out and touch him, if you wanted. Scared beyond reason, you press your back against the rough bark of the oak and pray he doesn't see you when he pans the flashlight on his cell phone around.
A strangled noise issues from his throat before he growls out a frustrated, "Fuuuck!" You can see him pacing back and forth as he rakes his hands through his hair. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was panicking. "Crazy fuckin' bitch," you hear him seethe under his heaving breath, growling again. "Fine, ya stupid cunt!" he shouts at the dark woods, throwing his arms up in the air. "Find yer own way home, then!" He then turns around and stomps back the way he came, still uttering curses.
You don't dare move, not even when the sound of his heavy footfalls fades away. You don't dare move, not even when the only thing you can hear is the wind rattling the tree branches overhead. You don't dare move, not until you at last hear the distant sound of a car motor rev to life, the sound gradually diminishing until you can't hear it any longer. It is only then that you are brave enough to slowly stand up on your shaking legs, only to lean once more on the trunk for support as a sob finally tears free from your chest.
You remain that way for several minutes, trying desperately to regain your composure, even as your brain keeps circling around the notion that Jerry's departure is some sort of ruse to lure you back out into the open. It's the idea of spending a cold night alone in the woods that finally has you lifting your head to take in your surroundings and evaluate your situation.
At first glance, it seems pretty dire. You have no idea where you are, you're too scared to venture back onto road for fear of Jerry lying in wait somewhere, and it's pitch dark out tonight, not even the wan light of the moon visible in the overcast sky to help guide you through the woods.
Your only real option is to call for help.
Reaching into your bag, you take out your phone, cursing under your breath when you drop it due to your trembling hands. The glow of the screen is a small comfort as you unlock your phone and open your contacts list. You stare at the emergency number, finger hovering.
If you call the police, there will have to be a report filed, and then there will be an inquiry to investigate your claims. You already know it will be your word against Jerry's. His solicitors will no doubt drag your name through the mud to discredit you, and he will probably still get off with nothing more than a light slap on the wrist, if he even gets that, because he actually didn't do anything to you, at least not physically. Hell, you had done more damage to him than he had to you. He could claim you attacked him, and he wouldn't even be lying.
You look back down at your phone, one name standing out like a beacon in the dark. When you see that name, you think of home, of safety, the two things you want most right now. You select it and hit the call button, holding the phone up to your ear and praying there will be an answer. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the line connect.
"Whad'ya want, Dee?" a gravelly, annoyed voice growls into your ear, and a sob escapes your throat, you are so relieved to hear him.
"Ruh... Riley? P-Please, Ri... please. I n-need you..."
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No one in the White Dog knew what to think when the usually quiet giant that sat at the end of the bar suddenly erupted out of his seat, the bar chair toppling over. "Doll! What's wrong? Where are ya?" he barks into his phone.
He apparently doesn't like what he hears.
"He fuckin' did what?! " he growls, a look of pure murderous rage igniting in his dark eyes. As he listens to you, however, his rage is tempered by his troubled concern. "Are ya hurt, love? I swear t'God if he―" His hand clenches into a trembling fist, even though his voice is now a low rumble. "Please don't cry, love. I know, I know, but I'll find ya. Ya know I will. I'm on my way right now. Just... keep yer phone on for me, yeah?"
He's already making for the entrance as he says this, the murderous look returning as he mutters, "I'll kill that bastard," before he barges through the door. He hits it with such force, it slams into the outside wall hard enough to shatter the frosted safety glass. He doesn't even acknowledge it as he runs to his truck and tears off down the street with a bark of tires the next instant, leaving a silent pub full of stunned onlookers in his wake.
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kissagii · 1 year
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nagi with an overworked boyfriend
cw: slight death mention (reader told he looks dead)
anyhow this is m!reader so she/her, she/they, fem readers please dni
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It was late. You knew that. But you just had to get stuff done. So with an unhealthy amount of coffee in your system and the lights of your study turned up to max brightness, you set to work on the ever-growing pile of work on your desk.
"You're still awake?" In your frustration with the papers in front of you, you hadn't even noticed Nagi entering your study.
"Mhm," you hum as he leans over you, chin nestling into the crook of your neck, "Got some extra work to finish."
"Will you be done soon?" He mumbles, all but collapsed on your back.
You sigh. "I don't think so. Just go to bed without me, Sei, you've got an early morning tomorrow."
"Again?" Nagi wraps his arms tightly around you. "But we haven't cuddled all week. You've deprived me of my boyfriend cuddles."
"Sorry baby, you know I've been busy." Perhaps busy was a bit of an understatement. At this point, the only thing keeping you running was coffee. You hadn't had a good night's sleep for the past week.
Resignedly, Nagi stood up to leave. Or rather, not leave. He stepped awkwardly over your knees, undignifiedly straddling your lap and effectively blocking you from your work.
"Seishro-"
"You look horrible," He states blandly. You lean back in your chair with a resigned groan.
"You're usually so handsome, but now you look kinda..." he reaches up to poke your cheek, "dead."
"Yeah, and if I don't get this done, I'll be even more in a few days." You love your boyfriend, you really do, but sometimes he can be so irritating.
"You need rest."
"I'm fine, Sei. Don't worry about me, I'll be in soon."
"You're lying." Despite how he seems intent on pestering you, Nagi stands up. Your moment of relief is abruptly ended by your boyfriend's arms reaching underneath you to lift you effortlessly out of the chair. Damn him for being strong enough to do that.
Your boyfriend carries you silently to the bedroom, depositing you on your side of the bed where your favorite pajamas waited.
"I'm going to turn out the lights, you'd better change" There's steel in his voice, a rarity considering how he lends himself to apathy, "And don't even think about going back to the study."
You (begrudgingly) comply - once he has his mind set on something, there's no getting around it.
Nagi smiles sweetly when he returns to find you cozy under the bedsheets, joining you eagerly. He doesn't hesitate to pull you in close, drowsy eyes full of love. You run a hand absentmindedly through his hair as he nuzzles even closer, already beginning to drift off into sleep.
"I love you, Sei," You whisper, drowsiness tugging at your eyelids.
"Love you too."
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© king-of-dreamers 2022. reblogs and feedback appreciated!
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marigolddove · 11 months
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Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.
Part One
This is a request from @yandere-dark-cupid, I'm sure you intended for this to be a one-shot...buuuuut I got super carried away because I L O V E mafia/mob AUs. They're my favorite all around and I just couldn't help myself, especially when you said you wanted a sweet civilian that's my jam. So, yeah this is part One for now, I'm thinking this is gonna end up being 3 parts minimum with how it's going and I will tag you in all 3, thanks for the request it was so much fun to plan and write and I hope you're happy with it!
Warnings: Blood and violence at the start, bit of torture and mentions of murder. Only at the very start though.
💀♥️💀
     If Wally Darling could only choose two qualities he hates most in this world he would choose dishonesty and disloyalty. Both of which this sorry bastard strapped to a chair in his office have. Wally didn't need to watch to know Barnaby was doing his job and doing it well, making this insignificant waste of air scream and wheeze through his gag. 
     He had more important things to focus on anyhow, like his craft for one. Having grown bored of reading recent reports and approving deals with neighboring rival groups, he turned to what he really loved most: art. 
     Sure now it was only a hobby compared to his full time job of running his family, but in his younger years it was his passion; his reason to get out of bed each morning and breathe. He's become weary and disappointed by his lack of motivation and inspiration as of late. There was a time when no one could pull him away from an easel or a sketch book for hours; but now, even with the tension and emotions bouncing around the room from this well deserved "lesson" he couldn't fully immerse himself in his work.
     At a particularly loud and strangled cry from the now ex-member of his family, Wally growled and scribbled through his current piece so violently the paper ripped; then tossed the sketchbook and pencil haphazardly onto his desk. He finally turned his attention to Barnaby and his victim.
     Barnaby, having heard his friend's frustration through the gasping breaths of some no-name newbie who crossed Eddie and Frank, immediately fixed his attention onto Wally.
     "Everything alright boss?" 
     "Just peachy." Wally sneered sarcastically, clasping his hands tightly together on his desk, "I believe I'm now tired of our session, you can take him and finish this up elsewhere, please? Oh, and on your way out get Julie for me." 
     Barnaby immediately unstrapped the man from the chair and threw his weak, limp body over his shoulder, "Sure thing boss, I won't take up more of your time; but I'll be around if ya' need me." He moved to grab the bloodied and soiled chair, but stopped when Wally waved dismissively.
     "No need for that, leave the chair and the mess, I'll have someone else clean that. Thank you Barnaby, be safe." Barnaby nodded and with that left the now slightly dank office. 
     Now alone for a moment, Wally leaned back into his leather seat and sighed, typically he wouldn't have these sessions in his office but this had been a…special occasion. A heat of the moment call if you will. 
     You see, that man had been new to the family, very new. He had yet to learn just how important family really is to Mr. Darling, but when he put the lives of Eddie and Frank into danger well…now he knew. All could have been forgiven had he shown a bit of sympathy and care for his new found family, but all he seemed to care about was his wallet. Selling personal information about individual members of the family to rival groups or reporters, one of those stories being about Eddie and Frank.
     Wally has never frowned upon interpersonal relationships, in fact he had encouraged it. Afterall, love is a beautiful and wonderful thing and he was so pleased it had been found in his friends. It was just such a shame that others didn't seem to share his sentiments on the matter.
     Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to correct any loose curled strands that fell into his face and onto his ears during his episode moments before, using any residual hair product still in his hair to hold them back in place. He began to straighten his posture and his desk at the sound of heel'd footsteps against the hardwood floors of the hall outside his door.
     Soon in walked Julie, dressed in a very fine magenta three-piece suit, a black criss-cross bow tie, classic black heels and her hair curled and pinned back to perfection; jewelry accenting her manicured hands. Wally felt a swell of pride and admiration towards Julie's sense of confidence and style.
     "Well, don't you look fierce today my friend." He started warmly at her entrance, she beamed at his compliment; only briefly glancing at the bloody mess at the center of his office before seemingly losing interest and turning her attention back to him. 
     "I woke up feeling fierce, so I just had to go all out today," she states as she moves to stand in front of his desk, hands on her hips, "so," she glances at the distressed art book still on his desk, "Barnaby said you needed to see me?"
     "Yes, I just sent him to take care of that…problem we were having, and it occured to me that the problem had a romantic partner. A young woman by the name of…" he examined a note he wrote for himself, "Ah, Allison Forester."
     A look of understanding flashed across Julie's face, "You need me to take care of her?" She was surprised when he shook his head.
     "No, no that won't be necessary. Our message will be clear soon enough, and there was never any evidence she was involved in his little scheme." His face turned a bit sour at the end before reverting back to neutral, "No, I want to send her flowers as an apology for his mess and for my rash actions." He sounded anything but apologetic, in fact he smiled just a tiny bit when calling his actions 'rash'. 
     "Oh, okay, sure thing sir. Any types of flowers in particular?" She knew Wally was very detail oriented and wanted to be sure he was giving her full creative liberties. 
     He waved dismissively, "No, just something pretty, that's all for now. You're dismissed, be safe." Turning his attention back to the art book, Julie knew he was now ignoring her; but she didn't take it to heart, he never meant anything by it, that's just how he was. Quick and to the point, and once the point was over he was done with it entirely.
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     Julie closed the office door behind her as she strutted her way back out into the main area of the building, the building they're in used to be strictly an office building, but since it fell into Wally's hands it was almost like an art studio where business happened to be held. He had completely renovated the building, still keeping some of the office spaces (not all of them were used as such however) but also turning part of the building into his own private home and space. They had more official places of business elsewhere, this one was just for comfort, for him to be himself. 
     Only the closest of family members were allowed to work here, the most trusted and beloved; because Wally does love them, even with his business facade and too-cool-for-you appearance she never doubted his love for her and the others. How could she when they're family?
     Julie decided she wouldn't leave until she could say goodbye to Frank and Eddie, they were her two closest friends in and out of the organization, and she knew that the recent news of betrayal had hit Frank hardest. Behind their serious and uncaring demnor hid a very emotional individual only she and Eddie really got to see. 
     It didn't take very long to find them and when she did she nearly hesitated, they were having a moment together and seemed to be having a very serious conversation. Together they sat on a velvet bench in front of a few art pieces Wally had completed, their fingers were interlocked as they faced once another. It seemed so pure and intimate, she nearly turned to leave until Eddie spotted her out of the corner of his eyes and offered her a soft smile and silently waved her over.
     When she reached the two she immediately pulled them both into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry, everything's gonna be okay, Wally will take care of this. I know he will." The two hugged her back just as tight.
     "Thank you, Julie. We're grateful for the support." Said Eddie, his southern charm as endearing as ever. She felt Frank nod against her shoulder and sniff a little.
     She pulled back and with as big of a smile as she could manage, Frank made it a little hard though, her poor friend's face was tear stained and eyes a bit redder than normal. They'd definitely been crying, and looking at Eddie she found unshed tears locked in his eyes and his face more flushed than usual. Good riddance to that idiot, whatever his name had been.
     She'd never been the violent or hateful sort, usually charasmatic and subtle, but if Wally or Barnaby had refused to do something about that guy…well, she had no doubts she would have taken him herself.
     "So where does Wally have you going?" Eddie asks, changing subject, a knowing look in his eyes. He was a sharp character, so she didn't have to ask how he knew Wally had given her a task.
     "I'm glad you asked, he's asked me to pick up flowers for a lady, I wanted your advice on a good shop for it. He wants them pretty." Eddie raised a brow at her and she chuckled, "Not that kinda lady, I'm afraid. It's for the…uh, girlfriend of the scum bag." 
     "I'm surprised he's sending her anything but a death threat." Frank says. 
     "Yeah, well boss says she didn't have nothin' to do with what went down. She's just a civilian caught up in it." 
     Frank nods while Eddie gets this excited look in his eyes, "Oh! I know just the place, hold on," he shifts and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a nice leather wallet, he takes out a small business card and hands it to Julie, "This place is really good at making bouquets, one of the employees there is a real charmer. Name's Y/N, (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. They're an artist when it comes to flowers, I swear." He said with a bright smile on his face, before turning a bit sheepish as the tips of his ears turned red, "I, uh, used to go there a lot back when I would get flowers for Frank." He admits.
     Frank practically has hearts in their eyes as they gaze lovingly at Eddie and his bashful face, Julie giggles at how cute they are together. They truly deserved the happiness they found in one another.
     "Well then, this is where I'll go then! How can I say no when you give such a sparkling review?" She teases, looking over the card and memorizing the address before tucking it into her pocket, "If I tell them your name will I get a discount?" She joked, but suddenly Eddie got a look of realization on his face.
     "Ya know what? You actually might! Y/N owes me a bit of a favor, so you just tell her Eddie Dear sent ya and I'm sure she'll do something for ya." Both Julie and Frank gave him a questioning look so he continued, "There was a big ol' spider in there the last time I went, poor thing was absolutely terrified, sitting on the counter and staring at it. So, I killed it for them and they gave me an IOU, they wanted to give me my flowers for the day free of charge, but I refused." He explained with a shrug and a sweet smile.
     "Flowers probably won't be too expensive and it's on Wally's dollar so I'm not really worried about it, but I'll still tell them you said 'hi'." 
     "Please do!" 
     Julie turned to leave, but not before giving one more tight hug to Frank, rubbing their back soothingly. They return the hug just as tightly.
     "Be safe, and come back soon…I think I wanna talk to you alone later. I have a lot on my mind." Frank whispers into her ear, although Eddie might've heard it. He didn't speak on it. 
     She pats their back, "Sure thing, bestie." 
     With that she ends the hug and waved as she leaves the room, leaving the two as they embrace one another and continue speaking 'I love you's in hushed tones.
—————————
     The flower shop is only 15 minutes from Wally's "home", and even though she recognizes the strip its located in, she's certain she's never noticed the shop before. It's surrounded by restaurants and a bakery, but now that she's noticed it she can appreciate just how cute it looks. It's small and the sign is elegant while the actual building itself is colorful compared to the rest surrounding it. It's actually so colorful she wonders how she's never noticed it before.
     She enters the establishment with a ring from the bell hanging just above the door signaling her entrance, the inside is a bit more simple compared to the outside, mostly natural woods and white paint while the flowers brought the room to life with their vibrancy and colors. To her right she sees a (e/c) and (h/c) employee, just as Eddie had described.
     You jump up from a stool you had been sitting on behind the counter with the register. Greeting her with a bright, relaxed smile.
     "Oh! Hello, welcome, my name is Y/N. Is there any type of flower you're looking for in particular today?" 
     "Hello, my name is Julie. Julie Joyful, how do you do?" She asks cooly, approaching the counter and outstretching her hand, your smile somehow becomes even more dazzling at her introduction and greeting. 
     "I'm doing well actually, thank you for asking." 
     Julie reaches into her pocket and pulls out the business card holding it up, "I got your card from Eddie, he says hello and that you're quite the florist." You move out from behind the counter with a gasp, still smiling.
     "Oh! Eddie sent you? Does he need more flowers for that friend of his? I thought for sure he would've won them over by now!" You laugh.
     "Nope, he only recommended you, I'm here for another friend of mine actually." Julie corrects, a smirk growing on her lips, "Oh, and that friend has certainly been won over. They're so cute it's sickening." 
     "Oh I knew it! I had a good feeling about him, I don't always have a good feeling about every customer who comes in, but he was definitely one of the sweetest. Definitely a lot of love in his heart, for sure." You say as you approach a table next to the counter, readying some wrapping and bows/ties, "So, this friend of yours," you start with a lilt, "Are they a friend, or a friend." Julie laughs at your teasing insinuation.
     "A friend, and the flowers are actually for a funeral…kinda." You immediately drop a pair of scissors you pulled out of a drawer onto the table, turning with a look of horror on your face. 
     "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so casual and I shouldn't ha–" Julie laughs, interrupting your hurried apology.
     "No worries, it wasn't anyone close to me or to him. It's more of a courtesy thing, I guess."
     A bit of color returns to your face as you visibly relax, realizing you hadn't offended Julie. Even so, next time no funny business!
     "Well is there any particular message you'd like to send using the flowers? Or do you just want a bundle of the same type of flower? White lilies are very popular for funerals, although they're also great for weddings and symbolize purity, and then there's marigold's. They're a bit deceiving, because while they look bright and sunny they really represent mourning and grief." 
     Julie took a moment to examine the flowers filling the room, "You can also just choose whatever is prettiest to you, all flowers have special meanings and can be a sentence all on their own, but not everyone cares too much for that as long as they're pretty." You continue, not focused on Julie so much as you browsed the flowers, mentally comparing combinations in your head. 
     "I'll let you decide, Eddie said you're like an artist when it comes to flowers, so I'll trust you know what you're doing." You hum in response to let Julie know you heard her.
     "You said the flowers aren't for anyone close, but are they a friend or family?" 
     "Family…kind of, I guess. They're for the girlfriend of a distant recently deceased family member."
     "Ah, so like you said, a courtesy bouquet."
     You take a moment to decide, then you immediately set to work, three types of flower should be enough, a short sweet message, "Coral rose, marigold and blue salvia." You say as you expertly cut the appropriate amount of each flower. 
     "What would that mean?" Julie asks, watching as you move the flowers to the table and clip leaves from the stems.
     "Coral roses can mean friendship and modesty, but in this case it means sympathy. Marigolds, as I said, mean mourning and grief; while blue salvia means 'thinking of you'." You explain softly as you arrange and wrap the flowers gently in a neutral paper; then finally tying it together with a matching cord. 
     "So essentially I'm trying to tell her: 'You're on my mind and I sympathize with your grief.' short and sweet." 
     Julie smiles as you turn around and hand her the finished bouquet, it's more colorful than she would've thought a mourning bouquet is supposed to look, but it is pretty just like Wally requested and it has the meaning, "Perfect!".
     You smile, pleased that she likes it, before moving behind the counter to ring her up; but then you remember that Eddie recommended her…you do owe him a favor. Maybe this was his favor?
     "So how much do I owe ya?" 
     "Nothing, it's on the house, this time."
     She looks up from the flowers to make eye contact, "You sure? They can't be that expensive, I don't mind paying, it's outta my buddy's wallet anyway." 
     "It isn't that expensive, which is why I don't mind letting this one go. It's for a good cause and I owe Eddie, I don't know if I'm calling this his one favor, but it's nice to do something nice for someone else." Julie smiles at your kindness.
     "How about I just pay half then? Just consider it a special discount." That sounded like good middle ground. 
     You agreed to her compromise, charging her only fifteen dollars, "Thank you for your business, have a wonderful day and I hope your friend approves of the flowers!" 
     Julie thanked you for your help and waved goodbye before leaving the store and returning to her vehicle, delicately carrying the bouquet.
I am already working on Part Two now!
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berryzxx · 5 months
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CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A FIC ABT GRAYSON GETTING REALLY SAD AND DRUNK AND GETTING A FLUFFY BLACK CAT NAMED "CAT" PLEASEEE
Special treatment
Summary: Grayson is drunk and see's a black cat he's decided to adopt. It takes you time to get used to his new pet
Grayson Hawthorne x reader
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The pool's lights allowed him to see his surroundings better, the time being far too late for his own good. So what? He was old enough to sit partially drunk next to the pool with nothing to do in the middle of the night. It's not as if his dear brothers were trying to find him anyhow.
His vision blurred slightly before focusing on a small black object further away. An object that was moving for some reason? It slowly trotted up to Grayson, making sure to go around the pool and then curling up in front of him. He patted a tentative hand on it's head. At least someone wanted his company, although he had no clue how the cat had gotten into the gardens.
The cat let out a small meow as if asking what the matter was before starting to play with the empty bottle next to it.
"No cat. Sorry. Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean you can be. Unless you want to be. We could both be lonely together" He rambled on unaware that the cat could not in fact understand him. He had to finally snatch the bottle away and hide it behind his back as if that would stop the cat from finding it.
The cat rather than going for the bottle again jumped into his lap and purred, probably asking for another pat. Grayson obliged and stroked it's shiny fur, the action soothing for him.
"Your a pretty cat y'know. I think you should come home with me. I know we're already home but I mean inside. You could have a bed just like your colour fur...or maybe you could sleep on my bed. I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind"
The cat let out another noise, of course it was because of the constant attention it was getting but Grayson assumed it wanted to know more about Y/n.
"She's my girlfriend by the way. She's so gorgeous. And really funny" After explaining the whole story of how the two of you met he scooped the cat up and stumbled inside, no one saw him with his new pet. Not that they would seen as though they were all asleep. Like sane people.
He turned the light on to his room and placed the cat onto his bed noticing that someone was sleeping in his bed. The sight of you shifted him out of his sleepiness "Shit" He muttered before trying to turn the light back off. How could he have forgotten that you were here? He glared at the cat as if it were his fault.
"Grayson? Why are you awake?" Y/n asked rubbing her eyes and sitting up. Once she sat up she looked down to see a black cat with blue eyes staring straight at her. After letting out a terrified scream and after Grayson assuring her several times that he was harmless she calmed down.
"He's my new pet"
Y/n nodded her head "Right. And what's he called?"
She had warmed up to him now and was slowly stroking his fur. Grayson took a while to think about it before declaring the name "cat".
"I sometimes wonder what's wrong with you" Y/n said after her laughter subsided at his chosen name.
"We'll get a bed for you tomorrow cat. For now you can sleep on my blazer" Grayson picked cat up and deposited him onto a chair where his blazer was spread out, a small cushion placed for the cats comfort.
"Special treatment for cat huh?" Y/n asked snuggling back into the warmth of his bed.
"Special treatment for you too sweetheart" He murmured before pulling her closer to his body so he could hold her tightly.
"Sweet dreams" Y/n said before closing her eyes. He left a small kiss on her head "Night love" He looked at cat from across the room once more to see he was curled up on the pillow, sleeping peacefully.
Maybe everything would be alright now. After all he had a new pet.
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
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I'm on my creepypasta bullshit again [currently creepypast and some animes I use to watch as a kid are hitting my brain full force again, lmao!!! For the millionth time, who would have guessed it] perhaps laughing jack x reader who struggles with migraines? Lately my memory has been getting bad, as my girlfriend has noticed, and pointed out that it might be due to stress and the amount of migraines I've been getting. I'm curious how jack would react to a reader whose going through the same?
Take your time getting to this! Get some water and food and have a break ^^ writing is hard, truly! Even coming up with headcanons because my head is empty, and if it isn't I'm stressing myself the fuck out lmao [like rn YIPPEE] anyhow, have the best of best days! Thank you for taking the time to even read over this.
Laughing Jack x reader who has migraines!
Aw man I'm so so sorry to hear you're going through all that man :( I hope things let up soon, make sure to rest and drink plenty of water!!
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He would notice something is wrong with you; any irritability, struggling with words and memory, and generally being a little... ueuegg..
But I'm not quite sure that he would immediately know what's happening to you, hes a clown not a doctor! So theres a chance you may need to explain to him what's going on and what a migraine is
Because he sure as hell doesnt have internet access..... I mean unless he snaps your phone but he might scratch up the screen with his claws and no one wants that..
I think he would have a very
Interesting way to help you with migraines!
Stressed out? Hes going to be blunt and literally ban you from doing anything around the house. Let Jack take care of you! Sure he doesnt know how to cook and his cleaning habits are questionable ... but it's the thought that counts! Try to do work on your computer or phone? Hes gonna drag you to bed and trap you in his long arms!
Oooo hes warm, too, so that may help ease any pains as well...
He literally shoves his (warm) face into the back of your neck^
Makes sure the lights stay dim, curtains closed, ect. If he were more naive, he would yell at the sun to go away.... actually he might do that, in hopes that the goofiness would cheer you up just a little bit
That said hes going to be very pushy about your fluids, you're not going to be dehydrated on his watch! This man will march up to you with a water bottle and demand you drink. And you can bet hes going to perch himself at the foot of your bed to make sure you do just that
Gently massages the.. palm..? Heel..? The bit where the palm and wrist connect.. he massages that into any areas/pressure points to try to relieve any aches and tension. Very careful about his claws
He can purr, I think, so he might pull you into his chest and just. Let it rip
Let's you fall asleep on him as well, I think he would be the best snuggle buddy. Hes big, soft, warm, and he can easily snake his arms around you a few times since they can stretch and are boneless. Easily beats any weighted blanket, I think
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