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#but make sure you know what the person you're talking to needs
harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
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Akihiko: It took you a long time to fulfill your promise.
Leal: *his trusted friend and husband* My apologies, Master Akihiko.
Akihiko: *smiles* You don't need to apologize.
Leal: Thank you—
Akihiko: However, I expect the utmost service from you.
Leal: Y-Yes!
Leal: *sigh*
Leal's sister: Did you get an earful from your wife—er, your husband?
Leal: Yes...
Leal's sister: It's not like I'm agreeing to him, but why did it take you so long?
Leal: ...
Leal: Master Akihiko and Lady Yuurin came from prestigious and affluent family. You must be exceptional to seek their hand in marriage.
Leal's sister: ...
Leal's sister: You're not that exceptional, brother.
Leal: I know. That's why Master Akihiko helped me to be one.
Leal's sister: Ah... That makes sense now.
Leal's sister: Though you could've just seek for his sister's hand—
Leal: You shouldn't say that!
Leal's sister: Huh? Why not—
Akihiko: Leal?
Leal: !!!
Leal: *slowly turns around* Y-Yes?
Akihiko: *smiles* Nothing. Please continue to enjoy your chat with your sister.
Leal and his sister: ...
Leal's sister: I'm going back to my room...
Sebek: WHAT CAN YOU SAY, HUMAN?! ISN'T DIASOMNIA THE BEST DORM YOU'VE EVER SEEN?!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: No.
Sebek: WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU!
Yuurin: I consider Savanaclaw to be the best dorm simply because I'm a member of it, and Leona-senpai and the others treat me with kindness and respect.
Sebek: Now that you explained it like that...
Yuurin: Though I appreciate you sharing stories of your housewarden. No wonder you admire him a lot.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: Human... I CAN TELL YOU MORE ABOUT WAKA-SAMA IF YOU'LL ALLOW ME!
Yuurin: Sure.
*After chatting for hours*
Yuurin: If there is a Malleus-aficionado, it would be you.
Sebek: *exhales with pride*
Yuurin: Anyway, it's late. I have to head back to my dorm.
Sebek: What?! We will be having a sleepover! You can't just go yet!
Yuurin: I don't have pajamas with me.
Sebek: Wait here! *goes to rummage through his drawers*
Sebek: I've got a spare one!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *after Sebek gave her privacy to change into his pajamas*
Sebek: You don't look bad, human!
Yuurin: Thank you.
Sebek: Let's go! Lilia-sama and Waka-sama are already waiting in the lounge area!
*Malleus, Lilia, and Silver staring at Yuurin.*
Lilia: Ooh~ Sebek~ Are you best buddies now?
Sebek: N-No, Lilia-sama! Yuurin didn't bring any pajamas so I've decided to lend him mine!
Malleus and Silver: ...
Malleus: Well, Lilia and I have prepared activities we could do.
Silver: While I made sure to get the comfiest pillows we have in the dorm.
Lilia: Yes! Let's have fun for the rest of the night!
Leona: Yuurin! Why are you just arriving now?!
Yuurin: It was a sleepover.
Leona: *frowns* *then sighs*
Leona: Would it hurt you to send a single message?
Yuurin: I'm sorry.
Leona: ...
Leona: Tch. Here's a punishment for worrying your housewarden.
Leona: You'll only talk to me with your girl voice.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Is that a punishm—
Leona: Girl voice.
Yuurin: *switches to her feminine voice* I don't see that as a punishment, Leona-senpai.
Leona: It is. Deal with it.
Akihiko: *chuckles* I agree with Yuurin. That is not a punishment, Leona.
Leona: Hmph. As if I could ever punish her.
Akihiko: True. *chuckles*
Leona: Oi, Aki.
Akihiko: Hm?
Leona: When are you going to tell Yuurin you got married, huh?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I will tell her personally. Or she would get the wrong idea. *chuckles*
Leona: ...
Leona: You are in Sunset Savannah now.
Leona: Though, seriously? Leal?
Akihiko: Leal is trustworthy.
Akihiko: And he is scared of me.
Leona: ...
Leona: Yuurin mentioned to me that her brother is a gentle soul.
Leona: *smirks* I guess she's wrong about that?
Akihiko: *chuckles* No. Yuurin has always been a good judge of character.
Leona: ...
Leona: By the way, on Yuurin's debut, what's your plan?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I want her to wear the prettiest gown.
Leona: Ha! We're thinking the same!
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ginnsbaker · 2 days
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)
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Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
-
The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.
You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh. 
But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.
[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.
[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?
You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.
[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?
As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.
[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆
You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.
[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.
Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.
[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.
Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.
[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?
Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?
Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.
It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.
[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂
You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text. 
And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.
-
[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.
-
As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter. 
It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.
And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.
So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a  simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.
[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌
You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.
[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?
Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.
-
You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.
Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”
Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”
You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny. 
Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you. 
She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”
You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.
Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”
“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.
Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.
“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”
Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.
“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.
“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly. 
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.
“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.
“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”
“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.
“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in. 
“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.
“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”
You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”
“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”
“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Just meet someone.”
“You make it sound like it’s easy.”
“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”
-
Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her. 
So, she does what she does best: Pretend.
Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.
Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to. 
Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.
And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.
She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.
Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.
Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.
[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.
Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.
[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.
Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?
As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.
[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️
It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.
[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.
[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊
Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.
-
Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him. 
Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.
Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.
And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend. 
-
The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home. 
They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.
“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.
Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”
“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”
If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away. 
“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.
“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly. 
Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.
“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.
“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.
“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”
Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.
“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?” 
Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?
Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?
But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.
“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.
“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal. 
Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.
“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”
Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.
Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood: 
“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”
Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.
A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?
Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.
She's with Danny now.
-
Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.
It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.
When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.
Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.
It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.
-
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.
She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.
“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.
“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.
“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.
“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”
“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”
Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.
“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.
“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”
You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”
You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”
“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.
“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place. 
You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.
“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.
Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.
Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?
And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.
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literaryavenger · 2 days
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Obsessed
Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.
Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.
A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.
Masterlist
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This is terrible.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-
“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.
You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.
Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.
But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.
What a lovely best friend you have.
Anyways.
Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.
“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.
She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?
Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.
Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.
“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 
Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.
So who the fuck is here just to see him? 
Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.
Big mistake.
“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.
“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”
Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”
You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.
You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.
Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.
You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.
You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.
“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.
There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.
“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.
God, you love this little girl.
You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.
Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.
“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 
You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.
Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.
She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.
It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 
Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.
What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.
Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.
Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.
He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.
So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.
But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.
Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 
It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 days
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OMG OKAY, AN IDEA INSPIRED BY AN OUTFIT (or two) I FOUND ON PINTEREST!! (I'd like them, but you can't on anon)
Okay, so, you've been dating Aaron for a little while, long enough that you guys live together and Jack would like, love you.
Jack would have a lot of friends at school, and all the mom's would be really close and friendly and would hang out for the sake of having their kids hang out, and they'd sort of be friends in a sense. So, one day, (I don't have the logistics figured out, so bare with me.) you'd have been talking to one of the moms about a way to kind of insert yourself into the school a little more and make more friends so that it's less awkward when he wants to hang out with his friends. And, the mom would suggest you host a garden party. So, you'd throw a garden party with all the mom's and their kids and Aaron would just be the most supportive person ever because he knows how stresses you are. Like you'd be planning this for weeks and you'd spend hours setting up. He'd go to the grocery store with you and help you pick out good foods. And he'd help you pick out decorations and hang them all up. And he'd make sure everything was as perfect as you'd want it to be. And ofc he'd be there during the party and talking to the mom's about how sweet you are and about you in general.
Anyway, sorry about the word vomit that thought has just been rotting in my brain. 🫶
STOP <3333333 fem!reader
when you first bring up the party to him, you're a bit nervous. you're afraid he'll think it's dumb or unnecessary (which you know isn't plausible because he would never) - he's fully on board, soo supportive and immediately off the bat says, "let me know what i can do to help🥹" and gives you suchhh a sweet kiss 🥹🥰🥰🥰
all the prep <333 you're scouring pinterest for ideas constantly - food, decor most importantly, outfit planning, fun activities for the kids. hehe you do this in bed at night, with aaron resting his head on your shoulder. he's watching you scroll, adding input, answering your questions: "is this cute?" "what do you think about this???" and eventually he has to pry your phone out of your hand, place it on his nightstand, so you go to sleep 😭🫶🏻
and week of the party, he's the most helpful assistant <333 as the two of you are grocery shopping, he's in charge of the list, reading off to you what you need as you grab it off the shelves. aaron also helps put together little party favors, helps you make name tags for the tables, and simply does anything you ask of him. he knows how important it is to you that it goes smoothly 🥺 hehe i also like to think at this point, you, aaron and jack have moved out of his apartment to a house with a backyard - where the party will be taking place - so he's on landscaping duty. making sure the grass is mowed and neat, no leaves or sticks are laying around, and even jack helps!!! hehe you planted some pretty, colorful flowers for the occasion as it is garden themed, and jack helped with that 🥹 aaron also wakes up early with you the day of, to begin the prep and setting up. omg imagine him putting together the balloon arrangement you picked out 🥹<333 he would get SO frustrated LMAO but in the end it turns out perfectly 🥰🥰🥰
and since you're so stressed out about it going well, about the other moms liking you and making friends, if the weather is going to cooperate (you were in tears a few days before the party, the forecast predicted rain😭) and aaron clearly knows how stressed you are, he makes sure you take breaks, provides reassurances and helps you get your mind off it frequently <3 hehe he uses the excuse that he needs attention 🥺🤨🫵🏻 and how can you say no to him 🥰
and during the party, aaron's making sure you're enjoying yourself - this is your party. so he takes care of everything - if something is needed, he grabs it or resolves it himself, makes sure the plates of food are always replenished, cleans up. you went through allllll the trouble of putting this together, so you're going to be a part of it and not solely on hostess duty <333
aaron's even outfit-coordinated with you 🤭 his button-up of the day matches the color of your sundress <333 jack's shirt too!!!
AND AHHH HE LOVESSSS gushing about you to the other moms 🥰 he has the most sickly sweet smile on his face the whole time. about how sweet you are, how attentive and loving you are to jack, how lucky he is, how you complete their family perfectly <333 he of course compliments you on the party you put together too 🥹 "isn't it amazing? she did the most amazing job." 😭💞💓
and throughout, he keeps going to your side, pulling you close at the waist, kissing your temple 🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭 and simply keeps an arm around you as often as possible <333 either listening or adding to the conversation you're partaking in <3
after everyone's left and the two of you are cleaning up - jack fell asleep on the couch, all the excitement wore him out 😭 - 🥹 aaron's keeps saying how proud of yourself you should be; the party turned out better than he could've ever imagined, the moms all loved you, he's proud of you, etc <3333 hehe he even throws in the teasing comment that now they're all going to be asking you when the next party is 🥹🥰
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orangelala · 2 days
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ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ
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chris sturniolo x reader
summary: you both started off as friends, becoming even closer, and now that chris has finally gotten over his commitment issues with the impact you've made on his life he's sure he wants no one else. what happens when the feeling isn't mutual, or is it?
warnings: angst, some fluff? swearing, pet names (love,ma)
a/n: we are locked in on series time. part two will be out soon!
word count: 1.9k words
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ
"i've seen the way he looks at you." she ran the brush through my hair. "it's not in a friend way either."
she was wrong, but it didn't stop my pulse from spiking with anticipation. "how does he look at me?"
fiona smiled. "like he never wants to look away."
"what is that supposed to mean?" "it means he loves you, its so obvious. how could you be so blind?" "if you mean in a friend way, then yes, yes he does" fiona sigh turning me around in the chair. "how long have we been friends?" "since kindergarten" "exactly. i know you better than anyone. preferably better than you know yourself. which means i know you feel the same"
fiona smiles once more before turning me around and grabbing the brush to help do my hair now. as if the discussion was over but was she right? was he really looking at me in a special way? did he actually loved me more than a friend?
she finally finishes up my hair and i put on my outfit for the day. as i walk to my car and get in to drive to the triplets house, i couldn't help but think about what she said. "like he never wants to look away" "like he never wants to look away" what the hell did that even mean? as much as i trust my bestfriend, i feel like she could be wrong about this.
as i reach their house, i gather my purse and some other things stepping out and walking up to the house. knocking on the door, im immediately greeted by nick pulling me into a hug. "hey girl, how are you doing?" "im good nick, and you?" "im great, chris is downstairs, by the way" "how are you sure im not here to see you?" i say catching up to him as he walked to the kitchen.
"so you're here to see me?"nick says putting his hand on his hip giving me a confused look. "yes, ive missed you" bringing him into a hug. "well ive missed you too kid" he says hugging me back. "how was your morning?" "it was okay but nick, you wouldn't believe what fiona had said-" "hey kid, why didn't you tell me you were here?" chris says cutting me off.
"well i was talking to nick, im not just bestfriends with you" i say sarcastically stepping back towards nick. "yeah chris, she's best friends with all of us, if she wants to hang with us because she's tired of you, she can" i couldn't help but burst into laughing from nicks comment. making nick chime in, as i catch my breath i look up and notice chris rolling his eyes.
"well if she's not 'too tired of me' i'd like to steal her for a moment, if that's okay with you" he says looking at nick for what looks like an approval. "go ahead. i'll be right here girl if you need me" nick says pointing at me as well walk away. "i'll keep that in mind, thank you bae!"
"you're not really tired of me are you?" he says opening the door to his bedroom. "of course not, nick was just saying to mess with you. i never get tired of you" i say bringing him into a hug. i felt him smile against me as he hugged me back tight.
"chris?" "yes love?" he says pulling away. "i don't want to interfere in your personal business-" "your my bestfriend, you never interfere. i tell you everything" he smiles, as he reassures me as he could tell the uncomfortableness on my face.
"do you like anyone?" i say startling myself, i didn't mean to say it so quickly. i watch chris's facial expression change. "i was with fiona, and fiona had said" "what did she say?" "well she said you looked at me um in a certain way"
i look away towards the door as i try to comprehend what was going on, was i really about to do this right now? i was taken out of my thoughts as chris takes his hand and moves my head to look at him.
"what type of way is that? he smirks. "in a way that uh, you like me?" "and?" "and well chris is it truth?" i say looking down at my hands. "if it is?"
"chris" i whispered. "your my best friend." "i know what i am," he says against my skin. "what would that, what would that even look like?" "what would what look like?" "oh my god chris, us. fuck. you know us" "so you like me back?" "i never said that, i asked a question"
"what would it be like? what would 'us' even look like? i whisper into again him. "i can show you exactly what it would be like."
i felt him fisting the fabric of my shirt, as if he was stopping himself from doing more. then releasing it and placing his palm to my waist.
"if you were really mine, i'd do this all the time." his long fingers draped around my hip and pushed me against him from the waist down. hot. he felt so hot and hard, branding my skin, even with layers of fabric separating us.
"if you were mine, you'd crave this." he then closed the rest of the distance that separated us very slowly. bringing our bodies flush together with such softness and at such a painful pace that i praised and cursed him at the same time. "you would want it."
but wasn't i doing that?
before i could delve into that, chris's large body shifted, and my back was against a hard surface. he looked at me quite intensely as if he was trying to read me. read my facial expressions but my mind went blank, making my whole body go blank. most importantly my heart.
what am i doing? what was i doing was all that was going through my head. he leans into me, running his hand over my cheek before pulling me into him, closing the space between us completely. i wanted to move. i needed to get out of here, but why was i feeling so safe. why did i feel happy under his touch?
chris places his other hand around my waist before fully bringing his face near mine. his lips were just centimeters away from mine. pulling me in with his hand. our lips had barely grazed. "im sorry, but i can't. im sorry" i say pulling away and grabbing my things.
"wait- what? don't go." "im so sorry, chris," i say choked as tears begin to run down my face. he had looked at me in confusion. it was only seconds later to a minute was how quickly i got out of there.
sprinting in the direction of my car as i walk out the house. i sit for a minute to catch my breath before placing the key in the ignition and starting up the car. it felt as if i could hear his voice around me, i could still see that expression. it was killing. the look he gave me. that look that was pastured on his face when i walked out.
i had finally reach my apartment making me sigh in relief. quickly getting out of car and walking up to my apartment, i couldn't get myself to put the key in the door and step in. i wasn't expecting to come home tonight. let alone be alone.
i stand there, placing a hand on the door before taking a deep breath and turning the key to let myself in. i was the one who did it. he didn't walk out on me, i walked out on him but yet why does it hurt so much.
placing my stuff on the table, i walk in the direction of my room. grabbing some fresh clothing. i couldn't be in his clothes anymore, running my fingers along the end of the shirt and almost staring at it as it reminded me of time he gave it to me. i quickly stopped the flashback that was about to occur as quickly pull it over my head and toss it to the side, along with my shorts.
i walk into the connecting bathroom to turn on the shower, stepping away and looking in the mirror to run my fingers over my cheek, where he ran his fingers over and moved down to my waist. running my hand over the spot repeatedly as if i was still trying to feel his touch.
i felt desperate, needy. craving his touch again. but i know getting out of there was something i needed to do to protect myself. why did it have to be from him? i had no idea but now catching myself in train of thought, i turn around and fully strip my underwear and bra and walk in.
i didn't really remember getting out of the shower and laying down. it had been about an hour later, as i have fidgeted through my sheets. tossing and turning but nothing had seemed to work. there was one thing and one thing only that ran through my mind. that almost kiss and him.
my phone screen lit up my dark room, making me roll over and hesitantly grab the phone. there were multiple missed calls and messages from him.
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about to play the first message, i exit out the app and throw the phone on the floor. standing up to catch my breath and placing in my room i hear the door. what seemed like a faint knock only for it to be a bit louder. wiping my eyes, i walk out of my room and towards the front door.
"who is it?" i say clearing my throat as i start to unlock and open the door. "yes? how can i help you- chris?" i say in a very hushed tone. "what are you doing here?" "i wanted to see you, why did you leave? was it something i did?"
"chris, you shouldn't be here" "i know but i want to know why you left, did i make you uncomfortable?" i shoved my hands in my pajama pockets as i take a step back making chris step towards me. "chris please" i beg, as i feel everything inside me tear apart.
"just answer my question please and i'll go. i promise, i just need to know" he said in an almost whisper that rang around my head.
my hands stayed in my pockets; his were at his sides. we weren't touching, not really. i had the sudden, sharp memory of the way his fingers had brushed against mine a few hours before. he bent his face down to my shoulder, his breath slipping through three layers of cloth to warm the skin there.
one of his fingers hooked at the strings of my pajamas and inched me just that tiny bit closer. his nose skimmed up my throat, along my cheek, and i saw none of it. i squeezed my eyes shut as his forehead finally came to rest against mine.
"look at me."
"don't do this," i whispered.
"i don't know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "i feel like, i feel like i'm losing my damn mind, like your face has been carved into my heart, and i don't remember when, and i don't understand why, but the scar is there, and i can't get it to heal. it won't go. i can't make it fade. and you won't even look at me."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
tags: @nicksmainbitch @sturniolossss @sturnlova @its-jennarose @freshsturns @luverboychris @canthelpit0 @ghostlypineappl @sturnzsblog @sluttformatt @urfavstromboli @junnniiieee07 @drpepperworshipper @ksturniolo7 @samandcolbyfan22 @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @h3arts4harry @patscorner @iluvmattyb @mattslovelygf @blahbel668 @mattscoquette @wh0resstuff @crack240
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Text
Summary: You have eagerly been awaiting your boyfriend's arrival after getting a text that his work was cut short, when you didn't expect to see him not even a second after reading it.
gn!reader, fluffy fluff again because I don't want to add anymore angst to this man y'all, he almost got german suplexed lmao
Happy Aven day guys!
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Seems today is my lucky day, we got the job done quicker than anticipated, be prepared to see me soon~
Reading his message made you excited, it's not everyday that his line of work ended that quickly, more often than not it was the opposite, going days, weeks months even with having minimal contact with your lover due to how engrossed he is with his work, having a high position and all, but he never forgot to send at least one message a day to you, both to ease your worries and also quench his desire to talk to you again.
Your mind raced with ideas on what activities to do with the man once he's finally back home, of course you plan on making sure he's rested up first before doing anything but that still doesn't stop you from imagining date ideas, maybe a trip to a nearby planet that you've been eyeing of going to, or perhaps just a normal romantic dinner, the possibilities are endless when you're together with him.
So engrossed in thought, the looming figure behind you went unnoticed until it was far too late, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, as your fight or flight response activated right away, ready to beat the crap out of whoever dares to-
"Hey~ I was wondering why you weren't replying, only to see you standing here with that goofy look on your face"
Speak, or well think of the devil and here he comes, your eyes must be playing tricks on you, or so you think because there's no way in hell he's actually here so quickly, standing there wide eyed as the blonde just stared back at you without saying anything, but that sly smile tells you all you need to know.
And so, like the logical person that you are, you hit him on the chest, not that hard, but also enough to make him fake being hurt by the sudden attack.
"Ouch- come on what gives, is this really how you treat your boyfriend after he comes home?"
"I'd treat him much better if he didn't come home with the intent of scaring me to death!"
You exclaimed loudly, pouting as Aventurine merely laughs at the silliness of this situation, taking your hands in his, he gave it a soft peck as those eyes looked at you with such longing.
"Sorry, I just wanted to surprise you."
It was now your turn to give him some much needed affection, as you kissed him on the cheek, chuckling at his surprised expression.
"It's okay, Welcome home Kakavasha."
His gaze softened at hearing that name come out your mouth, the feeling of pride and love in his chest at the fact that he has someone like you here now, and he's never been more grateful for it, maybe it was his luck that brought you together, perhaps it was fate, or an aeons doing, whatever it may be, he's just glad to be home with you.
"It's good to be back."
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tonkatsubowl · 18 hours
Text
aventurine can't help but admire you from afar.
the way the wind flows with your hair, the way your eyes lit up when you smile, the way you just... ugh, everything! despite being bold, haughty and confident, the man was actually a bit nervous to talk to you—or confess, even.
why?
trust issues and trauma, of course.
"i suggest you try speaking with them. in reality, not everyone will constantly betray you or stab you behind your back. take a leap of faith, and test the waters, gambler."
dr. ratio says as the gambler slumps back against his seat, grumbling. aventurine's face was occupied by an open book, in which he definitely did not read.
"this is all too frustrating. really, i'm experienced with talking with women, bedding them—but it's rather annoying that i can't even talk to them." aventurine sighs with a sheepish smile, "perhaps this is a curse that was placed upon me. truly, a riveting way to die." he sarcastically says.
"you're not going to die," dr. ratio says, folding his arms across his chest, "you are merely confused with your actions at this point. i had already suggested you a few ideas, and i won't speak any further."
"oh, c'mon now, don't be like that~."
"you are being pesky, and stubborn. the door is behind you whenever you wish to leave."
the gambler sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "alright, alright. i will leave you to your... whatever you were doing earlier. i'm not opposed to your suggestion, but rather, i am... conflicted, as you say."
dr. ratio sighed again. he did say he wouldn't speak any further after that. but finally, aventurine left, leaving the man be.
days later, you were with the express team. as though aventurine had successfully guessed you'd temporarily depart ways with your crew, he approached you. you were visiting a cat café that time, and he first admired you through the windows of the building. you were happy, and it was a beautiful sight. you held a few cats, took a small nap with a few of them, and you began to play with them. that was when he finally approached you, letting the cats come to sniff him out.
"my, i didn't expect you to visit this kind of café," aventurine says, catching your attention.
like a cat, you perked up, gaze wandering towards the familiar voice before your eyes sparkled upon seeing him. "oh, 'ven!"
his heart skipped a beat, but he hid it. he had nearly forgotten that you gave him a nickname the moment you two first met. aventurine was too much of a hard word to say, you told him that one day, so you decided to give him a nickname.
"the one and only." he says, lowering his sunglasses. as he sat next to you on the floor, the cats came to snuggle up against him. one cat, in particular—a white one with a luxurious collar—came to sleep upon his lap. you cooed at the sight, lifting a kitten and setting it on your lap.
"what brings you here? i didn't expect you to be the type of person to visit a cat café, especially with how busy you are."
aventurine shook his head, "i just wanted to see you."
you blinked, tilting your head. "you wanted to see me?"
he nods, stroking the cat on his lap, giving you a faint smile. "... i was wondering. this request i am about to make isn't business related, or anything of the matter. i've no ill motives behind it—but would you like to... come join me for dinner sometime tonight? that is, if you allow it if you aren't busy. or your... friends allow it." he knows how protective the express team can be of you.
you paused for a moment, blinking. "... like... like a date?"
he nods again, "a date."
"oh! then sure!" you smiled brightly, and your answer was instantaneous too. "i'll just let the others know i'll be busy tonight. where are we going?"
"ah, nothing too fancy (a lie). i just wish to show you my favorite spots here in penacony."
"okay! well, i'll try to dress up nicely, then."
"no need," aventurine shakes his head, "i've already set up a whole schedule for us. let's look at various of clothing later, and see which one you like most."
you blinked. you didn't have that much credits to spend, honestly... "ah... but my budget—"
"who said you were paying?" he flashed a smile. "my dear, i will be the one spoiling you tonight."
"... oh. but wait, that's so much money! please, you don't have to do all of that for me..."
"ah, don't worry! i have all the credits in the world."
"... o-okay."
the night of the date, you were a tad nervous. you didn't know what to wear, and luckily enough, march was kind enough to dress you up a bit.
waiting at the designated location of the date, aventurine shows up wearing his sunglasses as usual. he smiles, taking your hand into his, before gracefully leaving a kiss atop of the back of your palm. you lightly flush, before following the gambler towards wherever he wanted to go...
... and the first stop was the expensive clothing store! it consisted of luxurious of dresses, suits, tuxedos and what not. throughout your time there, the man was practically dolling you up. letting you try on different sets of clothes, getting one custom made on the dot, and even trying to have you match with him.
you finally found the right set, and it was ungodly expensive... but aventurine paid it off like it was nothing, and waited for you to come out with the dress, or whatever you had on. and once you left the dressing room, aventurine's heart melted a bit. his eyes softened, but the color of his shades had hid his admiration for your beauty. he clears his throat, snapping himself back to reality (dreamscape) before rising.
"you look stunning, (y/n)." he says, taking your hand once more, "i adore seeing that on you. perhaps you should wear it more frequently, it suits you like no other."
you felt butterflies roam in your stomach as you look at yourself in the mirror. "you... think so?"
he shakes his head, "i know so."
the second stop was a fancy restaurant. it was built into a casino, so from there, he introduced expensive, five star meals to you and showed you how to play a few games. he won you a cute little plush of (insert favorite animal) through a game vendor, and proceeded to bring you around. he was showing you off like a trophy, too, bringing his arm around your waist to show the world you were rightfully his.
at least, not yet.
the third and final spot was a scenery.
it took a while for the both of you to get there, but the hike was worth it. once you got to the top, you saw the outstanding view of penacony, and you took a moment to admire the horizon.
the night sky, how the stars sprinkled and welcomed you into their sights, and how... aventurine looked stunning underneath the night sky.
you admired him for a moment. he was truly a beautiful man, and instead of admiring the stars, you were admiring your future lover. you felt your heart melt as you sat, staring at him so lovingly.
"hmm? is there something on my face?" asked-he, his smile widening as though to tease you.
you decided to get a little bold, "beauty."
he chuckled to himself, his heart racing. his pride won't admit that he literally felt the world around him explode as you said that. there was just something about you that was just so... perfect.
and yet, all in all, the man was still terrified of you. given his trust issues and everything, he wasn't sure of you - but he knew that he was happy being around you.
all it took was time.
"i can say the same for you," he says in a soft voice, coming closer to you, "did you enjoy tonight?"
you smile, brushing his golden locks away from his visage, "i did. when will we have a second date?"
you paused.
"w-wait, i mean... that's too far, right? i mean, don't get me wrong, i-i'd love to have a second date with you, but that is if... you're okay with it!"
he blinked, before smiling, a chuckle leaving his lips as he returned the favor for you. brushing your hair away from your face.
"... i wouldn't mind. let's have another one again soon."
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lila-lou · 2 days
Text
✨ His only exception - Pt. 21/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language, angst, hurt
Word Count: 3377
A/N: This is part 21 of “His only exeption”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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As you stood there in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, the tumult of emotions swirling within you threatened to overwhelm you. Jay's presence in your life had brought moments of joy and comfort, but now faced with the prospect of intimacy, you found yourself grappling with feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.
Your mind wandered back to Ben, his absence palpable yet his memory hauntingly present. Could you truly move forward with someone else, knowing the lingering shadow of Ben hung over you?
The sound of Jay's voice outside the bathroom door broke through your reverie, a reminder of the present moment and the person waiting on the other side. Part of you longed to confide in him, to share the inner turmoil consuming you, but another part hesitated, fearing his reaction and the potential fallout of your honesty.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay?". His tone was gentle, laced with concern. "You seem… off. Is there something you want to talk about?".
You hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. Jay's genuine concern only served to amplify the turmoil within you. How could you explain the maelstrom of emotions churning inside your chest without delving into the depths of your past?
"I'm… I'm fine", you replied, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "Just… dealing with some things".
There was a moment of silence before Jay spoke again, his tone softer now, filled with understanding. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you".
His words tugged at something deep within you, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.
"I know", you murmured. "I just… need some time to sort things out".
You stepped out of the bathroom, your eyes red.
"C´mere", he whispered.
Feeling Jay’s arms envelop you in a comforting embrace, you let out a shaky breath, momentarily finding solace in his warmth. But his next words shattered the fragile calm that had settled over you.
“I just… I can’t shake this feeling”, Jay murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he held you close. “It’s like… I’m all in, you know? But sometimes it feels like you’re… not as committed to this as I am. I know we haven't been together that long, but it feels like you don't really want the whole thing”.
His words hung heavy in the air, a weighty reminder of the unspoken tensions simmering beneath the surface of your relationship. You swallowed hard, the guilt of withholding your true feelings threatening to suffocate you.
“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice tinged with regret. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s just… complicated”.
Jay pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours for answers. “Complicated how?”, he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But as you met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes urged you to be honest.
“There’s… someone else”, you confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Was someone else, I… I don´t know. It´s someone from my… past, I guess. And I… I’m still trying to figure out what that means for me… for us”.
Jay’s expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. “I see”, he said quietly, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “I guess I always knew there was something more”.
You reached out to touch his arm, a silent plea for understanding. “It’s not that I don’t care about you”, you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s just… complicated”.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your confession hanging heavily between you.
Feeling Jay’s gaze fixed on you, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to share a glimpse of the tangled web that had ensnared your heart.
“We had… a connection, a deep one. But things didn’t end well”.
Jay listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving yours.
“And now”, you whispered, the words barely “now I’m here, with you. But… but part of me still feels tied to him, to what we had”.
Jay looked down at you, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of compassion and uncertainty.
"Are you sure you're ready for a new relationship?", he asked. "I mean, if part of you still feels tied to him… it's okay to take more time to figure things out".
Your heart ached at his words, the truth of his question hitting you with a force you hadn't anticipated. Were you truly ready to move on, to fully commit to a new relationship?
You shrugged, unable to meet Jay's gaze as a pang of guilt washed over you. "I don't know", you admitted. "I want to be, but… it's hard".
A flicker of hurt crossed Jay's features at your words, his shoulders slumping slightly as he struggled to mask his disappointment. "I understand", he said quietly, though the pain in his eyes betrayed the depth of his feelings. "I just… I want you to be happy, whatever that means for you… for us".
Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to him, desperate to ease the ache you had caused. "I'm sorry", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't want to hurt you".
Jay enveloped you again in a gentle embrace, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of your own indecision. "It's okay", he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. "We'll figure it out together, okay?".
And as you clung to him, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on you.
With everything swirling in your mind, you felt as though you were losing yourself in the chaos. The person you once knew, the one who had made promises and believed in love, seemed like a distant memory now.
After letting yourself in with Ben, you were pretending to be someone you weren't. And now, with Jay, you had thrown yourself into a new relationship, hoping to find solace in his kindness and affection. But in the process, you were hurting him, and the realization cut you to the core.
As Jay held you close, offering comfort and understanding despite the turmoil within you, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at your insides. How could you continue to deceive him, to pretend that everything was fine when you were barely holding yourself together?
More tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in Jay's chest, seeking refuge from the storm raging within you. "I don't know who I am anymore", you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.
Jay held you tighter, his own heart heavy with the weight of your pain. "It's okay", he whispered, his voice filled with compassion. "We'll figure it out together. Just… be honest with me, okay? That's all I ask".
You nodded against his chest.
Jay held you close, his arms a comforting embrace as he gently brushed his hand over your back, soothing the ache that had settled deep within you.
"Hey", he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "When was the last time you visited your mom, or your family? Or at least met with some friends?".
His question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the isolation that had gradually encroached upon your life in recent weeks. You thought back, trying to recall the last time you had reached out to anyone outside of your interactions with Jay, but the memory eluded you.
"I… I don't know", you admitted. "It's been a while. I've been so caught up in everything… I guess I lost track of time".
Jay's embrace tightened slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the loneliness that had crept into your life unnoticed. "Maybe… maybe it's time to reach out to them. They care about you, you know?".
Again you nodded against his chest, the weight of his words sinking in.
Jay pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Come on", he said softly, his voice tender as he gently pulled away from your embrace. "Let's go back to the living room".
As you settled back onto the couch, Jay wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close as if to reassure himself of your presence. His touch was gentle, yet persistent, as he continued to brush his hand over your arm in a comforting gesture.
With each stroke, a sense of calm washed over you, the weight of your worries momentarily lifted by Jay's unwavering affection. Just like it has been for the last few weeks.
As you nestled into his embrace, Jay let out a soft sigh, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.
"I think… I think you need to figure out your feelings", he murmured, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I don't want to push you into anything, but… I really like you. And… and I do not want to lose you. Whether as a girlfriend or just a friend".
His admission hung in the air, a vulnerable confession of his own desires and fears. You turned to look at him, finding solace in the warmth of his gaze as he continued.
"So maybe… maybe we can take it slow", Jay suggested, his voice tentative yet hopeful. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can just… see where things go".
His words resonated within you, a gentle reminder that healing and growth often came with time and patience. You nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over you as you leaned into his embrace.
"Thank you", you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For understanding".
Jay smiled softly, his fingers kept tracing soothing circles on your arm. "Always", he replied. "I'm here for you, no matter what".
In the days that followed, Jay and you spent countless hours talking, sharing stories, and getting to know each other on a deeper level. His presence became a source of comfort and stability, grounding you in the midst of uncertainty.
With each conversation, you felt pieces of yourself falling back into place, like a puzzle slowly being reassembled. Jay's patience and understanding gave you the space to explore your feelings and rediscover the person you once were.
One day, feeling a newfound sense of confidence and belonging, you suggested visiting the team again. Jay readily agreed, eager to meet the people who had played such a significant role in your life.
After introducing Jay to the others, everyone told you about the latest events, gave you an update on Homelander, and told you what it was like in the executive suite at Vought. Despite the distance and time apart, the bond you shared with them remained as strong as ever.
As the evening stretched on, you found yourselves gathered at a cozy bar with Hughie, Annie and Jay. Annie told you about her temporary leading position at vought.
You listened with admiration as she described the challenges and triumphs of her new role, marveling at her resilience and determination. Despite the pressures she faced, Annie seemed to thrive in the leadership position.
Meanwhile, Jay struck up a conversation with Hughie, the two of them quickly hitting it off. They exchanged stories and shared laughs, bonding over their mutual interests and experiences. You watched with a smile as Jay's easygoing charm drew Hughie out of his shell, the two of them becoming fast friends.
After a while, Annie led you to the bar to get some new drinks, the lively chatter of Hughie and Jay faded into the background, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you waited for the bartender to take your order, Annie leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial.
"So, what's the deal with you and Jay?", she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have to say, I really like him. You've definitely hit a good one".
You smiled weakly, grateful for Annie's support but unable to shake the weight of your own uncertainty. "He's great", you admitted, your voice tinged with hesitation. "But… I'm still trying to figure things out".
Annie nodded in understanding, her expression sympathetic. "I get it", she said softly. "But just know that Jay really cares about you. And if anyone can help you through whatever you're going through, it's him".
You sighed, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know", you murmured, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. "I just wish things weren't so… complicated".
Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she leaned in closer, her voice tinged with exasperation.
“You need to forget about Ben”, she insisted, her tone firm. “He’s not worth your time or your heartache. You have someone amazing right in front of you, someone who genuinely cares about you”.
You nodded, knowing deep down that Annie was right. But as much as you wanted to let go, the pull of your feelings for Ben remained stubbornly strong.
“I know”, you replied softly, your voice filled with resignation. “But it’s not that easy. Ben… he made me feel things no one else ever could, or ever will”.
Annie rolled her eyes, her disdain for Ben evident in the way her lips curled into a frown. “Yeah, well, he was also a huge dick most of the time”, she muttered under her breath.
You couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at her bluntness. “That’s true”, you admitted with a rueful smile. “But despite everything, there was still something about him…”.
Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she reached out to squeeze your hand in a gesture of support. “But you deserve someone who treats you right”.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I know Ben wasn't always ideal", you began, your voice tinged with emotion. "But he… he literally risked his life for me so many times… We, he, was special. We had something special".
"If there was really something special, he wouldn't have just left", she said bluntly, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.
The truth in Annie's words cut deep, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you. You knew she was right, that Ben's departure had left a gaping hole in your heart that seemed impossible to fill. But despite the pain, a part of you couldn't let go of the memories, the moments of connection and intimacy that had once brought you so much joy.
Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the words to respond."But… it's not that simple…".
Annie reached out to you, her touch gentle as she wiped away your tears. "I'm sorry", she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just want you to be happy, that's all".
As you walked back to the table with Annie by your side, you couldn't shake the weight of her words echoing in your mind. With a heavy heart, you stole a glance at her, a silent plea for comfort and understanding.
"He didn't even say goodbye", you mumbled, the bitterness of the truth lingering on your tongue.
"He's just an asshole", she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"But he… had his reasons", you replied quietly, thinking about russia, though even you weren't entirely convinced by your own words.
Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she linked her arm with yours. "Maybe", she conceded, her voice softening. "But that doesn't excuse the way he treated you. You deserve better than that".
In the apartment, Butcher, MM and Frenchie sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Frenchie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brow furrowed with worry. “I don’t like lying to (y/n)”, he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with guilt.
Butcher let out a frustrated groan, his frustration palpable in the air. “If (y/n) knew we had captured Soldier Boy, she’d be on the next flight to free him”, he grumbled, his tone laced with bitterness.
MM glanced between his companions, his expression grave. “We can’t risk it”, he said firmly, his voice a quiet reminder of the stakes at hand.
Frenchie let out a frustrated grunt, his unease bubbling to the surface. "If that ever comes out, (y/n) will hate us all", he muttered.
Butcher's jaw tightened at the thought, his frustration boiling over into anger. "She won't find out", he snapped, his tone harsh and uncompromising. "No one is spilling the beans, understand?".
MM nodded in agreement, his expression solemn as he met Butcher's steely gaze. "We'll keep our mouths shut", he affirmed. "He wasn't good for her, Frenchie. He just used her".
But Frenchie shook his head adamantly, his brow furrowed with disagreement. "I don't think so", he interjected, his voice firm with conviction. "I think he really did love her".
Butcher scoffed at Frenchie's assertion, his skepticism evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. "Love? That's a load of rubbish", he retorted, his tone dismissive. "He's a bloody supe, Frenchie. They don't know the first thing about love".
Frenchie bristled at Butcher's words. "Clearly you didn't see the way he looked at her", he countered. "There was something real there, I'm telling you".
MM glanced between Butcher and Frenchie, a troubled expression crossing his features. "Maybe", he conceded reluctantly. "But even if he did love her, it doesn't change the fact that he's a liability now. We can't afford to have him jeopardize us".
Turning back towards Annie, you couldn't shake the nagging question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind. "But don't you think it's strange he didn't even say goodbye?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, we were kinda friends, right?".
Annie raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression incredulous. "Friends?", she echoed, her tone laced with disbelief. "You're for real, (y/n)?".
You flushed slightly, taken aback by Annie's reaction. "Well, maybe not friends exactly," you admitted sheepishly. "But we… we had something".
Until now, you hadn't told anyone how much had actually happened between you and Ben, even if everyone could already guess.
Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she shook her head. "I don't know what you had with Ben", she replied, her tone softer now. "But whatever it was, it's over now. You deserve better than someone who would just up and leave without a word".
Despite your best efforts to move forward, being back with the team brought a flood of emotions rushing back, intensifying the ache of missing Ben. Every corner of the room seemed to whisper his name, every familiar face a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared.
You found yourself lost in memories, replaying moments spent with Ben in your mind like a broken record. His absence felt like a gaping hole in the fabric of your reality, a void that no amount of distraction could fill.
And as you navigated through the days, the longing for Ben weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the most joyous moments. Despite the passage of time, the pain of his absence remained raw and unyielding.
And as you struggled to reconcile the past with the present, you couldn't shake the feeling that despite your best efforts, you were still trapped in a cycle of longing and loss.
———————————
A/N: I hope this chapter makes you feel a little better :D There's still so much planned guys, just wait. Please let me know what you think.🥰
-
Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth @artemys-ackles @selfdestructionandrhum @mystic-mara
74 notes · View notes
ckret2 · 4 hours
Text
Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:
The Eclipse: Part 6
Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:
Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.
Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.
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They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."
Bill numbly climbed onto land.
Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.
He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?
But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—
Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"
Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.
"Bill?"
Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."
"Why? What happened?"
"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."
His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.
And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"
Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.
"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."
No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."
Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."
"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."
Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.
"You say your can't feel your legs."
"Yes."
"Or your left arm."
"Yes."
"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"
"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous. 
Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."
A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.
"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"
"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."
"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."
"Let you sit and then do what?"
"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."
There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.
####
"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.
Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?
It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.
"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.
"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."
"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."
Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"
The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.
Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"
"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."
####
Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—
"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."
The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"
Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."
No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."
"Do you... want any specific food?"
"Not hungry."
There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."
Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—
Something soft landed on his head.
Bill opened his eyes.
There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.
Bill said, "What."
Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."
It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right. 
Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."
Bill croaked, "What."
It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.
He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."
"How is it...?"
"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—" 
"Psychosomatic?"
"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."
"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"
"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"
"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"
"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?
He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."
Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.
He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.
Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.
In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.
He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.
And it would have been for nothing.
Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.
He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.
He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.
His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.
Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.
####
There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"
"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."
Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"
"I know."
Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"
"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.
Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—
"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."
Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"
Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."
"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."
"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"
He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."
"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.
Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."
Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"
Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.
Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."
Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"
"Per game."
Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."
Ford considered it. "Three conditions."
"Mm?"
"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."
"Mm."
"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."
Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."
"Deal."
####
Bill lost every game.
Badly.
He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.
Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.
But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.
The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.
The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.
One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.
One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.
One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.
A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."
"Checkmate," Bill said. 
Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"
"Checkmate."
"You can't mate me, I just mated you."
"I know. Checkmate."
Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."
"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."
Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...
When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.
Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."
"I'll take it."
####
After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?
It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.
While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.
"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."
Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.
Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.
During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.
But Bill simply said, "No."
Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.
Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?
When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"
"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casual shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.
"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"
"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"
Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"
But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."
Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.
(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)
It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.
####
Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.
"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."
Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.
Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.
"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."
Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"
"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.
"Then be my guest."
"I'm saving my strength."
It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."
Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.
They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."
"Go jump in a lake. Again."
How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."
Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."
When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.
"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.
Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.
####
(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)
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scribbledghost · 1 day
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Oh gosh, angsty idea I just need to ask... how do you Simon reacts to civilian!reader being captured?? And how do you think Simon reacts when reuniting with reader after rescuing them (b/c my brain won't accept any other ending than Simon and reader reuniting.) BTW, my brain didn't really have a particular version of Simon in mind while writing this... so you can picture fem!Simon, neighbor!Simon, etc. while responding :))))
It's been a minute since we've checked in on Neighbor!Simon, so let's do that, hm?
His first call is to Price when he finds your front door ajar and your house in disarray. He knows calling the cops would be next to useless, especially since it doesn't take a genius to piece together the kidnappers' motive - to get under Simon's skin, and lead him to them.
It takes all his resources to find you, including Price and Laswell pulling strings on his behalf. The 141 take on your rescue mission personally, though they're very much alone here. There is no backup, the military wasn't going to expend such resources rescuing a single average civilian.
Simon turns into a machine. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He only focuses on finding you and using whatever scraps of breadcrumbs he can in order to do so. He gets testy with the team. Any bit of lightheartedness from Soap or Gaz quickly gets crushed under Simon's heel. No time for jokes, not when you're out there somewhere, being put through god knows what.
His mind often wanders to Mexico. To Roba. Simon Riley is not a praying man, but he bends his own rule just this once. Not only to beg for your safe return, but to also plead that wherever you are (and whoever has you) is kinder to you than Roba was to him.
When they track you down, Simon is quick to start barking orders. Normally, Price would put him in his place, but he allows Simon to take the lead on this one. Simon has come too far to not be the one that rescues you. He makes quick work of whatever misguided group thought they could stand up to him; he leaves behind a trail of bodies with no remorse, and personally carries you out of the building and to a waiting helo.
Truthfully, I see him being completely devastated by guilt. Whoever took you did it to get back at him, and they found you by finding him. In his mind, it's the same scenario with his family all over again - someone he loves got hurt, and though he wasn't directly to blame, he can't deny that you would have been safe if he hadn't come into your life.
You wake up in a hospital bed some time later to see Simon sitting at your bedside, leg bouncing and arms crossed as he stares into space.
He all but freezes when you softly call for him, head snapping to you as he launches towards you. At first, he doesn't speak. The only thing he says is a soft "I'm so sorry" as he gently touches your cheek. He's a steady presence in the following days, making sure you're well taken care of, helping you when you start to get up and moving again.
Honestly, I think he might wrestle with himself a little bit here. Part of him wants to vanish; to leave you, move away, and break all ties with you in an effort to keep you safe. Sure, he'd spend the rest of his life thinking of you and yearning to have you back, but at least without any connection to him, you'd be free of the risk of this happening again.
And part of him wants the opposite. He wants you close, wants to keep an eye on you, wants to never leave your side. The risk would still be there, but he knows he'd be able to protect you better and he knows he'd be better-equipped to find you if anything were to happen.
In the end, he settles for the latter. And maybe he starts talking about condensing your two homes into one.
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Text
Just something that's been swirling around in my mind regarding Astarion, and I don't think I've seen much discussion about it.
I see a lot of pro-ascended peeps say that when Astarion stays a spawn, he stays a spawn because the player character convinces him to, and that Astarion truly wanted to ascend. They say this is proven by what spawn Astarion says if you breakup with him after defeating the brain - he gets upset and talks about "everything he sacrificed."
I'm not here to argue spawn vs. ascended - though I have a dissertation about the cycle of abuse and fear-based decision making ready to go for anyone who wants to seriously argue in favor of the ascended route being healthy.
What I am here to argue, is that maybe someone who literally just a few months ago - if that - escaped their abuser after years of torment, and who just days ago watched that abuser die...maybe that person isn't fully healed and is reacting out of pain and defense.
Maybe that person is still healing and honestly isn't fully sure in that moment if they made the right decision. Maybe that person needs some time to process life altering events, and maybe it will take some time before they are 100% comfortable with the decision they made, eventhough they know it was what was best for them.
Anyone who expects Astarion to be 100% healed and happy with everything at the end of the game has likely never experienced life altering trauma. That shit can take a lifetime to recover from. There's a reason it's life altering...
I'm so damn glad Larian depicts spawn Astarion realistically at the end of the game. He isn't healed, he's healing. Things will trigger him, he'll doubt and second guess himself, and that's okay because that's what happens when you're healing.
His response in that scene just feels real to me. And it sure as hell doesn't say to me that he wished he'd ascended. It says to me that he's still working towards healing, and I think that's really cool that a studio would depict a character so realistically.
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zimthandmade · 10 hours
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Funny Idea that Occured to Me:
Mello comes out to his mafia in the most threatening way possible. In so doing, he terrifies them out of using homophobic language.
Something like ... "I am the indispensible brains of this outfit, but I am perfectly willing to be the psychopathic executor of the most unhinged violence you have ever seen. The next person who uses a homophobic slur in my presence--I've prepared a handout, don't worry--will experience that unhinged violence first hand. Because I'm gay, and tired of hearing it."
One of them complains, "But these are all my favorite insults!" And Mello is instantly at his throat with a razor, hissing, "Then come up with better, more inclusive insults. Or I'll literally [redacted] [redacted] and [redacted] with your own [redacted] so you have to [redacted] with a magnifying glass."
Jump forward two weeks, and instead of his mafia calling their enemies "faggots" or whatever, they now say inventive things like "Taco Bell customer" and "spaghetti breaker".
Dude.
DUDE. I LOVE THIS.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(I'm pretty sure that's Matt's knife btw >:3c)
Also: I think Matt talked him into this.
“You know what? If the system sucks, why don’t you just change it? Make new rules.” ”Matt, I can't just single-handedly change long-established gang structures overnight." "I mean, what are they gonna do of you try? Fire you?" "Kill me. And you right after. I’m just ONE GUY - how do you think that should go??" "You’re not just one guy - I know of at least one person that would personally smash a blokes head if they pulled a gun on you for whatever reason and that’s the fucking BOSS, dude. Rod had your back from the very beginning. He'd be a gormless moron if he got rid of you because you were shagging a guy. He needs you. They all need you. And Ross knows that, I'm pretty sure. And besides, if anyone can change long-established gang structures overnight, that’s you, innit?? Who was it that brought Rod a head as an initiation gift, huh? The one who infiltrated the bloody mafia on his own?? I think it's a smaller task to get your subordinates to stop hitting on gays, don't you?" "Well, if you frame it like that..." "Also, you're forgetting the most important thing: you're fucking Mello. They're all scared of you and rightly so."
----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵
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ghouljams · 5 hours
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Hello! Have you ever heard this song! When I heard it I gasped and whispered cowboy soap https://open.spotify.com/track/3uSuDgWfSBTTyaVqPxvbM9?si=et6b-jvmTTmTuzoV1hK34A
SCREAMING
We're jumping back to the 1870s babyyyyyyy
"You talk funny," You tell Johnny across the bar, "Anyone ever tell you that?"
"Only person ever tellin' me anythin' interestin' is you hen." Johnny smiles at his plate, dragging a thick slice of bread through the dredges of today's stew. You huff, and grab a cloth to start wiping out glasses. If he's going to hang around your bar all day he may as well rise to your bait. He never does and it only makes you like him more. Damn him.
"They got somethin' in the water in your country, makes you sweet on girls that want nothin' to do with ya?" You try again, raising your brows at him when his eyes dart to you. His smile is so much more devilish when he's looking at you from under his brows. You have to suppress the shiver it sends down your spine.
"Glasgow," He tells you, looking back at his plate.
"Not even speakin' English," You grumble to yourself, turning to set clean glasses on the shelf behind you.
"'S where ahm takin' ya when we're married."
You don't bother turning to face him, your own body rising to his bait with warmth in your cheeks. That's happening more and more these days. Must be summer getting to you. It's hotter than sin out there, and you've got a certified sinner breaking bread at your bar seven days a week. That's got to count for something.
"Where is that?" You ask, not because you're interested, but because you... Well you are interested but more in the geography of it. You've always considered yourself smart, you don't like not knowing things, especially when it's a man knowing something more than you.
"Scotland," Johnny says without a hint of smugness, "we'll have cows and sheep." He does this sometimes, meets your curiosity with answers, patience. He doesn't push his joke, doesn't take your question as a yes when it isn't one. Maybe you wish he would sometimes, just to know he isn't letting his joke drop so easily, but it's refreshing. You like being treated as something akin to an equal by him.
"So it'll be just like here then," you reply, it comes out more teasing than you really mean it to. You squeeze your fingers tight around your rag, turn to grab another glass. If you can keep yourself busy then those sorts of slips won't happen. You make the mistake of catching Johnny's eye when you turn. He's resting his cheek against his hand, watching you with a soft sort of smile that makes your stomach flip. You turn around without a glass and have to find something else to keep your hands busy with.
You settle on just touching the tops of bottles, fussing with the placement of glasses, wiping the shelf, whatever you can think of not to look at the man sat across from you.
"There's more grass, mountains with-" Johnny sighs, nostalgic, "-heather growin' on 'em, almost half as bonnie as you. You'll love it."
"I'm perfectly happy here," You tell him, tell yourself. You half expect him to ask if that's true, to push you towards what he wants, but you hear the rustle of his shirt as he shrugs.
"Then we stay here."
You settle your hands on the back bar, push all the feelings you have down through the palms of your hands, as you lean heavy against them. You could dig your nails into the wood, traces every grain and every swirl, and it would never be enough to stop the awful aching longing that this man conjures in you. You've seen him fight, you've seen him spit and swear as he's dragged off by the deputy, you've felt the hard lines of his body pressing you tight to the door as his lips find yours, and you've felt every sting of every proposal since then. You don't know what he's still fighting for. Hasn't he seen every awful facet of you?
"Why do you do that?" You feel the question in your chest more than actually hear it leave your lips. You're sure he'll need clarification, that he has no idea what he could possibly be doing. Men never know what they're doing, never see the hurt they cause, or they do and they keep at it for their own amusement.
"Ahm a good husband."
"I'm serious," You round on him, hope he can see it in your eyes. He raises his brows, sips his drink, pushes his plate your way.
"So am I."
You can see it in his eyes, he's serious.
It terrifies you.
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akutasoda · 14 hours
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hii :3 for ur 1k event, can I request a fic or hcs of sunday w a shy s/o which likes physical affection a LOT? fine w fluff or hurt/comfort!! love ur writing <3
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feather light touches
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synopsis - what happens when someone who loves physical affection meets someone who doesn't?
includes - sunday
warnings - gn!reader, slightly angsty, comfort, fluff, wc - 897
a/n: hii :3 thank you!!!
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sunday was a public figure. head of the oak family and at the will of the watchmaker, anybody who had even heard of penacony probably had heard of him. while he did manage most of the affairs of penaconians in his office, he was a well known face - mainly due to him making sure he could accompany his sister to her performances and personally greeting very important guests.
to maintain such a high profile position, sunday had no room to be shy nor anxious when it came to anything. he needed the ability to communicate with and sway anyone to his whims and so he needed to show no signs of weakness. perhaps it was maybe helped by the fact that he did have quite the desperation for control and so to achieve that, he needed everybody to see him as the confident and formidable person he was.
as a result, alot of his relationships were strictly business - in a way every business relation he built up was built up to his benefit, to keep him in control and eventually elevate his status. he needed to be in control to succeed and so he never took up opportunities that made him feel like his control would diminish and leave him scrambling for his power. by extention, sunday wasn't exactly the kind to enjoy physical affection, if anything he despised it. of course there were exceptions to a degree, namely his sister and you.
you were like a complete polar opposite to sunday. he was confident and an influential figure that liked keeping people at arms length, even those he was close too. you were a shy and reserved person who craved nothing more than to be close to those you held dearly. physical affection was very dear to you but unfortunately the shyness was an obstacle that prevented most forms of physical affection - unlike sunday who would take any opportunity to stay away from any kind of physical contact.
sunday didn't mind how shy you were, it didn't really matter to him as he enjoyed your company nonetheless. he didn't mind doing things for you and so if your shyness did prevent you from talking to people he'd gladly step in. your shyness was actually a great comfort to him at the end of a day filled with business dealings, just to spend his evening with you indulging in smalltalk and relaxing without the pressure of being the head of the oak family.
it wouldn't take sunday long to notice how hesitant you could get in private, you always looked like you wanted something but you never said anything and so he didn't know what to do. if something was bothering you, you probably would have told him know no? truth be told, your issue wasn't so much your shyness when it came to physical affection but more with how unsure you were with sunday's willingness to just that.
you knew for a matter of fact that physical touch and affection wasn't exactly sunday's deal, so you're shyness was overcome with worries that he wouldn't understand your love for physical affection. you started fearing that this would be the reason you couldn't stay with sunday, that this would be the breaking point of your relationship. what made it worse was that you never brought it up. you were way to shy about it to bring it up and so you say on the issue.
that was until sunday started picking up more ideas to what was causing your hesitation around him. he noticed how a simple act of hand holding made your face light up even if you didn't mention anything, so unconsciously he started doing that more. sunday realised you were very fond of physical affection and maybe you were just hesitant that he wouldn't appreciate it.
it was true that he was uncomfortable with most kinds of physical affection but maybe he could try and make an exception for you - he really couldn't bare seeing you so pained because you couldn't ask him. simple acts like hand holding, that still made you light up, were bearable with him to start as long as he still wore his gloves but you didn't seem to mind. maybe just maybe he could atart building up his tolerance just for you.
or maybe he couldn't deny you when he realised you built up all your courage just to ask him for a hug. sunday fully understood now, he knew for sure that you lived physical affection but you were simply too shy to ask for such. albeit he probably didn't help you by seeming so off put by physical affection but he just had to prove to you that you were indeed an exception - so long as you still let him get used to more physical contact.
it all seemed worth it in the end to him. seeing your face light up when he offered a hug, a small kiss, or even hand holding made his day, what really made it worth it for him was seeing you becime more comfortable with asking for the physical affection you lived oh so much. it may be foreign and slightly uncomfortable to him but he'd be willing to build up that aspect if it meant helping you in the process.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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riki-riks-chick · 1 day
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★Blind Date★
︱Enhypen Sunghoon OneShot
︱nsfw! oral sex! sexual intercourse! fucking on the ︱first date!
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Third Person POV~
  "Heeseung, I don't wanna go on another blind date... The guys are always weird.." You were annoyed. Your best friend was once again trying to talk you into a blind date. There was no way you'd agree. "Come on Y/n.. He's really good looking! And he's a gentleman. Just give him a shot.." He wouldn't quit until you agreed, so you simply nodded. "Fine.. I'll do it.."
  "Alright.. I'll let him know.. Trust me on this one.. I really think you'll like him.. You have a lot in common." He smiled before leaving your room so you could get ready for your newly scheduled rendezvous. 
 You spent a few hours getting ready, wearing a periwinkle colored maxi dress that stopped mid thigh. Adorning yourself with a decent amount of makeup, your favorite jewelry, and a thin fur coat for the occasion you got cold. You also made sure to put some essentials into your clutch.
 After that, you were ready to go. Heeseung drove you to the restaurant. "If you need me.. Call me, I'll be close by. If you don't text within an hour I'll go home.. Be safe.. I love you." He smiled, kissing your cheek as you smiled. "Alright.. I love you too Heeseung.. Bye.."
  "Don't come home or the date is unsuccessful." He made sure to add as you laughed. "Okay.. Bye Heeseung." You got out of the car, tugging down your dress as you waved at Heeseung, watching him drive off before walking inside. "Reservation?" Upon being asked, you simply responded Lee, as Heeseung had told you to. The man led you to your table shortly after. 
 You arrived at the table, immediately gasping as you met eyes with your blind date. He was extremely handsome. You smiled, taking your seat as he smiled at you. Your heart fluttered. "Hello... Nice to meet you... I'm Sunghoon." He smiled, reaching across the table to shake your hand as you gladly took his hand. His hands were warm and smooth. "I'm Y/n.. Nice to meet you as well.."
 "You're really pretty Y/n..." He smiled as you blushed. "Thank you, you're really handsome." He smiled at your response. "Let's glance at the menu.. Order whatever you want, I'm footing the bill.." His words made your stomach do a flip. No guy had ever offered to pay for your dinner. They were always down to split it fifty-fifty. He definitely had your best interests. "I can't let you pay for everything Sunghoon.."
 "Just leave it to me.. What do you want to eat? Any cravings? I'll have whatever you're having.." He gently gestured towards the menu as you sighed, skimming the selections for something that suited your taste. You had eventually decided on something, pointing it out to him as he smiled. "I like that too.. Alright then. White wine or red?" 
 Everytime he asked for your preference, you felt special. No guy had ever been so considerate. "I prefer red.." You answered shyly as he nodded, gesturing towards the waiter. "Hey can we get two (insert food) and a bottle of your best red wine?" He asked as the waiter nodded. He repeated the order to make sure it was written properly, and then he left with a promise to bring the bottle of wine.
 "So, what are your interests Sunghoon?" You asked as he hummed. "I'm a figure skater.. I'm currently in talks of doing it professionally, but as of now, I work at my parents' ice rink.. I teach skating classes." He said as you stared at him, stunned. "You ice skate too?" You asked as he nodded. "You do as well?" 
 "I used to.. I was about to go pro, but I slipped during a triple axel, and I tore a ligament.. I haven't been able to skate the same since." You explained as he pouted. "That's so sad... If you wanted.. We could spend some time together after hours.. I'll help you get conditioned to skating again." He offered and you couldn't resist.
  He got better and better with each sentence. "I'd love to try.. I haven't skated since the incident happened a few years ago.. I tried skating once my leg healed, but I kept falling.. It was frustrating.." You didn't notice how emotional you were becoming until he reached across the table to rub your hand. "It's alright... We'll take it slow.."
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The night was long and you enjoyed every second of it.. He was offering to drive you home, and at first you were reluctant, but he was adamant. 
  "Actually.. Can we go back to my place? I don't think I want this night to end yet." He asked so politely and you couldn't resist. Heeseung wasn't lying about him being a gentleman.
 He took you to his apartment, opening the door as he led you to the living room. He sat you down, offering you a glass of water to sober you up. Your alcohol tolerance was low, but  every interesting topic over dinner was paired with another glass of wine.
 Sunghoon had apologized, saying that he wouldn't have kept pouring you glass after glass if he'd known of your low tolerance. You insisted it was okay though.
 "Here... Take a few sips.. It might make you feel a bit better." He took your coat, setting it down with your other belongings before turning on the tv. Some random movie was playing on low volume. It provided background noise. "Thank you.. For everything tonight.." You set your cup down, only just now noticing the small distance between you.
 "I enjoyed talking with you.. What do you wanna do now?" He asked as you hummed, inching closer to him, your thighs were now pressed against each other. "What do you want to do Sunghoon?" You let your drunken state lead you, leaning in to whisper in his ear as he let out a shaky breath. "I- I.. It doesn't matter what I wanna do.. I'm happy pleasing you.." 
 "So, are you fine with this?" You pulled him closer, your lips ghosting over his as you turned towards him, crossing one leg over his lap. "If that's what you want.." He swallowed, hard, eyes flickering from your lips and back to your eyes, his heart beating out of his chest. "What do you want Sunghoon?" You wanted an answer. He gulped, "I want you.. Y/n.. I want you.." He finally spoke as you smiled. 
 You pressed your lips against his, letting him have control as he pulled you to straddle his lap, your dress riding up as you sunk into the new seat. His hands naturally found the curve of your hips, squeezing occasionally as his lips melted into yours.
 You grinded into him, rolling your hips into his until you could feel his erection through his slacks. He slid his tongue past your lips, licking, swirling, and sucking to his hearts content as you let out needy little mewls every now and again. 
 The kiss was heated, both of you needily pressing against each other as he let out impatient groans everytime your hips met his in a concentrated roll. "I.. I need you.." He pulled away, panting against you as you smiled, already out of breath. "You can have me.." He smiled, watching you move off of his lap, attempting to remove your heels, struggling in the process. "Let me do it.."
 He easily unstrapped the heels, taking them off your feet as he pulled you up from the couch. "Follow me.." He spoke in between heavy breaths, unbuttoning the top buttons of his silky white shirt as you followed him to his room.
He had pulled you against his chest once entering the room, leaning down to leave wet and sloppy kisses across your neck and shoulders, knowing that his nipping and biting would leave many marks in their wake. You moaned at the contact, feeling him ease your zipper down as the thin strap of your dress slid off of your shoulder.
 "Hurry up and take it off.." He was eager, unbuttoning his own shirt to reveal his ab line. You had turned to face him, easing your dress down your figure as Sunghoon watched attentively. You had taken an interest in his slim, but fit physique. Faint, yet toned abs, and strong, toned arms that were revealed once he let his shirt hit the floor. You were fascinated.
He gestured towards the bed and you gently obeyed, climbing onto the bed as he followed, hovering over your figure. He kissed you again, this time more needy than before. His hands roaming your skin as he rubbed your clit through your lacey underwear, drawing small and breathy moans from your throat.
He had pulled away, kissing down your torso as his lips met waistband. He had tugged on the thin fabric, pulling it off of you and discarding it before focusing in on your perforation. He left a few gentle kisses before going in, licking and sucking to his hearts content. You let out small yet musical sounds, which all went from Sunghoon's ears, and straight down to his throbbing dick. 
  "Fuck.." You swore, the world falling carelessly from your lips as he went down on you, enjoying every liquid that poured out of you. "Sunghoon.." His name fell from your lips so easily, and he moaned at the sound, sending pleasurable vibrations through your body. You were so close.. "I'm gonna cum-" You could barely speak as he increased the intensity of his attack, leading you through, what you now acknowledged as, the best orgasm you'd ever experienced.
 Multiple expletives fell from your lips as he lingered against you, soon pulling away with glossy lips and hazy eyes. "I've been dying to do that all night..." He sounded satisfied, working on his belt as he removed it, his pants following soon after.. You could already tell he was big. 
 He used his fingers, sliding two into you as a means of prepping you for his package. You were far too horny to wait, as was he, but his fear or hurting you overshadowed his raring erection. You let him finger you until he was able to easily slide in three fingers, and then you stopped him.
 "Just fuck me.." You mumbled and he nodded, reaching towards his nightstand for what you assumed was a comdom. "No condom.. Just fuck me already.." You spoke as he glanced at you, worried. "You sure? I don't know if I can pull out in time.." 
 "I'm on the pill.. It's fine.." It took some convincing, but he finally complied, removing his underwear and letting it litter the floor along with all your other clothes. He spit into hand, giving his length a few slow and languid strokes before pressing his tip against your entrance. "Can I?" He asked your consent again, wanting to be sure as you nodded. "Please fuck me Sunghoon.."
 He had pushed in almost instantly, his tip touching spots that had never been touched before. You felt full.. He was huge, and he knew it. He gave you a few seconds to adjust properly before moving slowly, letting your wetness coat him. 
He let out adorable moans and other pretty noises that made your stomach turn. He was so perfect. "Y/n... Shit.." He cussed, head dropping in pure pleasure as he increased the speed of his thrusts, making sure to fuck you deep. "Sunghoon- mhhm.." You moaned his name, pulling him closer as you pressed your lips against his. 
 Every sound in the room was lewd and hot, skin-slapping, the wet sounds you guys made everytime you parted lips, and the heavy breaths and moans each of you let out. Sunghoon was in pure euphoria, as were you.. "I'm.. I'm gonna- cum-" He was already close, having not expected to last long, and you were already nearing your second release. 
 "Cum with me.." You spoke, gripping his bicep as he thrusted harder, cumming inside of you as you came undone on his dick. He continued to thrust to ride out your orgasms, hips slowly coming to a stop as you smiled. "That was great.." You kissed him again, throwing your head back against the pillows. "Thank you for tonight.. I had fun.." Sunghoon thanked you as you smiled. "So did I.."
 "Let's get you cleaned up."
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  The next morning, you wake up to soft, golden sunlight, and an empty bed. You yawn, stretching your stiff limbs before getting out of the bed. You were wearing an oversized shirt and some sweats that barely managed to stay on your hips despite being tied as tight as possible.
 You checked your appearance, and surprisingly, even your makeup had been removed. You were so sleepy after sex with Sunghoon last night, you had barely stayed awake during your shared bubble bath. Looking at your neck, you could see every pretty little love bite he left on your skin. You barely remembered him helping you tie your hair up and take your makeup off.
 You left his room, easing your way to the kitchen where you heard soft humming. Sunghoon was there, cooking breakfast. "Good morning Sunghoon.." You smiled, garnering his attention as he glanced at you with a smile. "Good morning Y/n... Did you sleep well?" He asked as you nodded. "Mhhm.. How about you?"
  "I slept a lot better with you beside me.." His words made you blush. "Sunghoon..." You were flustered, hiding your face against his arm as he ruffled your hair. "You're cute... Let's go out again sometime... Okay?" He asked, glancing down at you as you nodded. "I'd like that.." He leans down to kiss you. "Then I guess it's a date.."
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(if you've seen this b4 i also posted it on ao3 so its my work not stolen)
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yourbestprincess · 19 hours
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Mein Kleines Mädchen
Older!König (40s) Young!reader (18- early 20s)
Giant age gap but y’know, size kink, slightly hyper fem!reader, reader is a female, König is rough and also has a cute little German accent and calls you cute pet names in German, König is also your dads bestie but not anymore! Creampie, slut-shaming but also praise , fingering.
Hope I didn’t miss anything! XD
(Gentle reminder that König is HUGE, I'm pretty sure he's 6'10 which, if you're average hight, is ginormous.)
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You’ve always thought König was overly attractive, but you would never do anything…I mean he was your father’s best friend.
He always eyed you when they hung out, which was rare because he was always deployed.
König was way bigger than you were, he merely towered over you when you two would talk. Which, to say the least, you loved.
You thought he was so attractive. From how big he was to his greying ginger hair to his blue eyes which looked at you in such a way that made your stomach flutter.
****
He was finally coming over today. You were finally in collage now, in your eyes a grown woman.
He was staying the night according to your dad because he got kicked from his apartment from being gone so long, to which you weren’t complaining.
It was so early; almost too early, but you heard a knock at the door. Even before he knocked you felt his presence. Your heart pounds as you peak out of your window to see his car. You walk down the stairs, only in an oversized white t-shirt that covered your tight black shorts. You clear your shirt of any wrinkles before looking through the peephole and opening the door.
“Guten Morgen, schatz.” He smiles softly. you notice that he’s still quite dirty.
“Oh, ‘morning König.” you smile back softly before letting him in, your heart still pounding in your chest, it feels like it’s gonna run away.
He gives you a lousy side hug and drops his bags on the stairs before giving you a forehead kiss.
“Mm.” He breathes you in “Schatz, where is your father?” He backs away slightly to give you some sense of personal space.
“He’s working today until about 8:30. Sorry, I should probably let you settle in and shower I know you’re tired and-“
“Shh, liebling. Stay with me, I suppose I need some company, ja?” He looks down at you, reaching his calloused hand over and putting it on the side of your head in which you lean into.
“Okay, well first let me draw you a shower.” You bite your lip gently before leading him into the upstairs bathroom next to your room. He follows you, humming something you swear you've heard before.
"Du bist so ein liebes kleines Mädchen" (You're such a sweet little girl) König snickers while trailing so close behind you that he's basically hovering over you.
He thought you didn't understand what he was saying. You really touched up on your German before he came back from whatever mission he was on. You knew he said things to you in German before, but he never thought you'd know. Not until now. Your blood wastes no time making your cheeks hot and red with straight fluster.
He grips your arm and turns you with his mere strength. "Oh dear. Du verstehst jetzt?" (Oh dear. You understand now?) He tilts his head, squatting down to your hight.
You try to look down but he forces you to look up at him with your practically pathetic puppy eyes. "Ja...since you got deployed again. I should've told you, but I just wanted to know what you were saying to me."
His eyes feel like they're staring sharply into your soul, like he was looking straight into your heart. He knows that your heart grows and yearns from him. "Ja? Good girl." His accent spills out more when he's eager.
"C'mon lieb." He stands back up letting you finish showing him to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and make sure its the perfect temperature for such a man. You set out a towel and an unopened bar of soap.
"Okay, there you go. You can..um meet me in my room when you're done." You say with just a little bit of excitement in your voice.
"Ja, liebling." He says with a soothing voice rather than before.
As you wait in your room, you change into a pink see-though lingerie dress with a matching pink thong. To top it all off, you wear some white thigh high socks. You sit pretty on your bed and wait for him to get out of the shower.
****
You hear a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Liebling? Can I come in?" You ignore it for a second but before you can cover up he busts through the door.
"Mein gott liebe. Scheisse... don't do this to me. You know I can't hold back." His is heavy. It's obvious that blood went to his dick just from looking at his towel.
"I don't want you to hold back." You say as he steps into the room. His hair wet and towel barley covers his v-line. He sighs and walks closer to you.
“Mein schatz…What a fucking tease are you? Gut Gott.” He towers over your small frame, lifting up your legs and pressing kisses on your thighs as he props them up on his shoulder. His cock is fully hard, it’s throbbing and oozing out pre-cum.
“Bitte…König. You know how many years I’ve been waiting for this..” Your panties are so soaked that it’s visible. Who knew you’d be such a slut for the man who was there when your father wasn’t.
He moves your panties to the side with his middle finger. He pushes his middle and ring fingers inside you and rubs his thumb on your throbbing clit. You cry and whine under his touch. He knows how bad you need him.
“Is this too much schatz? If it is, how am I going to put this cock in you? It craves you, you know that liebling?” He takes his hand away from your wet entrance and lets the towel fall to his ankles. His cock springs up, you can see pearls of pre-cum dripping onto your bed. He gives his drooling shaft a couple of pumps before spitting on his middle and ring finger to wet your entrance just enough to fit his massive cock.
“Ready liebe?” He shoves the tip past your entrance making your shutter and whine from the size.
“Ja, you’ll be okay mein schatz.” You bite your lip and cry with him going deeper, trying to fit his 8 1/2 inches in your tight pussy that’s just taking him so well.
“König…s'too much..Bitte! Pleasepleaseplease!…” You whine and moan from the pain. Your thoughts are clouded with pure white pleasure. You know how wrong this is, but, Mein Gott, is it worth it. You're gripping his back and begging for god knows what.
“Nimm es einfach wie ein braves Mädchen, ja? Getting close for me already, Gut gott." (Just take it like a good girl, yeah?) König can't help but notice how pathetic and weak you are under him. His blunt tip pushes against your g-spot over and over again until you're crying and going cock-dumb over him.
" Du liebst es einfach, wie eine Schlampe gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr? What a good fucking girl for me." (You just love getting fucked like a slut, don't you? What a good fucking girl for me.) You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier and heavier. His breath begins to hitch and he can't help but whimper just a little from how tight his Liebe is.
"König...gonna cum right now.. Vati... fuck- feels s'good..." Before you can even think about getting close, he pulls out of you and sits down on your bed, getting comfy before motioning you to sit on his lap. You slide off your panties and see-through dress, craving that skin to skin with him.
"Ja, that's it Mein Schatz, ease down on me, you've got it Liebe" As you sink down on his fat cock, he notices that it makes an indentation on your tummy.
"S'too much König... too big." You barely make out in whimpers and cries. He continues to thrust deeper into your sopping cunt. You really hope your dad isn't gonna come home anytime soon.
"Shh, It's alright, you'll be okay Mein Liebe. Just let me use this pretty pussy, ja?" He pushes his cock so far up into you that you were genuinely surprised on how he was able to bottom out in you. His thrusts are sharp and fast with so much power that you moan everytime he thrusts. König knows you're close from the way you're clenching down on him and how loud your moans are.
"Bitte... I need to.." You cry out before König's thrusts become sharper and somehow even faster.
"I know, I know. I'm gonna come with... scheisse- come with you, okay?" He can't stop grunting now, its all pleasure now. White pleasure clouds his visions.
"Christ- Ich liebe dich schatz- fuck. I always have. And look, now I get to fuck this little body of yours and even fill you up with my cum, eh?"
His vision returns to you, already cumming on his cock. So pathetic, you can't even speak. You're too entranced at cumming on his thick cock to even think. And now here he is, filling you up with his potent cum. He pumps and twitches just a few more times until you two ride out your orgasm.
****
"Was I too much Mein liebe?" He wraps his big arms around you as you snuggle into him. warm sheets cover your bodies.
"You were perfect. Everything and more than what I was ever expecting." He wraps you into him even tighter, pressing kisses on your forehead and soft lips.
"Ich liebe dich auch, König."
Your dad's gonna be so pissed when he finds out his little girl is getting fucked by his so called best friend.
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