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#no i will not be taking questions or explaining further at this point. answers will come when yall least expect that shit
youreaclownnow · 20 days
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One (1) plate of american comfort food would have made it so he didn't need to go and do all that, I believe.
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gibbearish · 8 months
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I am an egg
What is the egg for
I mean I agree that on the spectrum of gender I am plausibly definitely an egg that just feels about right. I'm just there man. Sitting around until needed. In my zone, in my lane, just serving my purpose like an egg.
But I'm still curious about the egg title I've been bestowed
generally in trans circles an "egg" refers to a trans person who hasn't realized they're trans yet, so then realizing is "the egg cracking"
functionally in the quiz it's kind of a "your answers mostly pointed towards cisish but not always" / middle of the road placeholder. honestly the results part is kind of the main bit im not entirely happy with because i have no idea how to actually weight answers properly lol
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inkbybambi · 7 months
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bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —
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words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.
he's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. you weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.
"i don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.
"i wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.
actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.
he trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.
six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.
he rushes into your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side and not the trigger. the front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. he almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.
curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded through your hair as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.
he knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. you jump just a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.
"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "i didn't mean to wake you."
and you hadn't. you thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.
"'s'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "you okay?"
the look he receives damn near breaks his heart.
he learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. more than once.
they never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. they didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.
"i had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "it didn't change anything."
something shifts after that.
he starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. the bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects simon's books. you give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your "continue to watch" queue.
he doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. you sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down and you start the series from the beginning.
nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. you don't understand why. you were getting better, you cry in simon's arms after a particularly rough night.
"sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently carding his fingers through your hair, tucking you under his chin.
"make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.
he starts sleeping in your bed.
he's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. he presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.
he starts taking the balaclava off at night.
a morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.
"g'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. a flash of heat snaps through you.
"morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.
his fingers are in your hair, thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. he cradles the back of your head as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.
the sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.
he nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. you mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.
"fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.
"say please," he rumbles.
"simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.
you're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.
he usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. he eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.
but you? he feels feral with need.
"it's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, right above the mark he sucked into your skin, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. he's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.
you claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.
"it's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.
he grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.
"feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.
you make a strangled noise low in your throat. it's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.
the stretch feels so good, though. your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.
"fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."
he swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.
"think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. you would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.
"yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.
for a man of few words, simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.
"never had a cunt this perfect." "fuckin' made for me." "can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "no one else can have you." "you're mine."
and you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.
you mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him just as much as he's marking you. you'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.
"simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his legnth and thighs.
"that's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. you feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.
"wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, wanting to give you matching marks. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.
you grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. he feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.
the way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.
no one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.
but simon? fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.
"baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. the slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.
"cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.
he fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.
you stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.
simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "y'alright?" he asks. you swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.
he slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. you push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.
"fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.
he spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.
time bleeds together.
his contract renews on the twelfth month.
he heard rumors that price might switch him out for another guard.
you're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. price has two separate folders prepared. a sharp look from simon is all price needed to know about how he feels. the tongue lashing you give your higher ups has price raising his eyebrows, and simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.
he wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.
ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and i didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.
you grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.
his hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.
"don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."
eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.
he's meticulous, prepared, tactile.
there's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.
he makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.
he's like a shadow, or a guard dog.
you've never felt more secure. more protected.
until —
he doesn't know how it slipped past him.
he let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. he admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. you look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.
he hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. his eyes, though. his eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.
you look one second too late.
simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.
"stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.
you can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.
simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.
"you okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.
"fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.
"you're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "i'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.
you grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. you gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.
"simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.
he looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.
fuck.
at least it wasn't you, he tells himself.
nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.
while he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.
the hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. he hated it then and he hates it now.
price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while simon recovers.
you've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. the nerve.
twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. some of them in your writing, the others in his. the keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.
"why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. you're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. never dreaming he could hear it like that.
a lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.
he laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.
twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.
you smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.
it's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large german shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.
he feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. he touches his own subconsciously.
you set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.
there's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.
riley.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought
so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨
Danny: oh I always forget about that
someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes
Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes
wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order
word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs
(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)
"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.
Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."
"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"
Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."
"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.
He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."
"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.
Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"
The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.
"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.
She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"
Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."
"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"
He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.
He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.
Strange.
Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.
He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.
So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.
Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.
A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.
His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.
Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.
He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.
Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."
They were the myths.
Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.
The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.
It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.
After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.
With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.
Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.
That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.
In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.
The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"
What a strange place Gotham is.
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Red Carpet || Tom Blyth x gf!reader
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Summary: Tom takes you to your very first movie premiere and it happens to be the movie that he is the protagonist in. A sweet moment happens between the two of you which leaves fans further fangirling over your relationship.
A/n: I have been constantly asked If I will ever do a Tom Blyth x reader imagine and the answer is yes :). Btw I absolutely love @yzzart’s Tom Blyth x actress!reader imagines and you should totally go check them out!
Warnings: none :)
Wc:
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Divider by @pommecita
You were beyond nervous and excited to attend the red carpet Premiere for The Hunger Games The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Especially since you would be attending as your boyfriend’s plus one who happens to play Coriolanus Snow in said movie.
The two of you kept your relationship as private as you could, but at some point along the way of him filming, everyone knew the two of you were together. Your public affection towards each other during the behind the scenes did not go unnoticed by fans who recorded it and took pictures.
It was bound to happen someday. "You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Tom hugs you from behind, your exposed back flush against his outfit, as he admires your reflection in the mirror. You hold his arms that were protectively on your waist.
"Thank you, Tom. You look as handsome as ever," You giggle, turning around to place your hands on either side of his face, admiring every little detail on his face that you have already noticed about a thousand times, before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
You two were on your way to the event, his hand never left your thigh as you lean your head against his shoulder. Your phone suddenly buzzed as you look at the caller id. It was Rachel. You immediately answered it as it went through to face time.
"Where are you guys!" She yells in the speaker, loud chatter in the background. She was already at the event. "We are literally around the corner," You say taking a look around your surroundings as Tom chuckles. "Let me see your outfits!" Rachel stares at you with a wide grin.
You laugh at her energy as you pass Tom the phone as he holds it up so that the both of you were on screen. Rachel gasps as she covers her mouth, "You guys look fucking amazing!" She squeals as you chuckle.
"Wait until you see the back of Y/n's dress," Tom lets out a whistle as you nudge him with a smile. "I can't wait to see! Oh wait, I think I see your car pulling up right now. See you soon!" She quickly says before hanging up.
Tom squeezes your thigh, his way of asking if you were alright without any words. You nod with a small smile. You arrived at the premiere and the flashlights coming from the cameras shone through the windows.
Tom steps out first before lending you his hand, aiding you as you get out of the car. He gives you an encouraging smile as you smile back at him. Everyone started screaming when they saw the two of you, causing you to smile even more.
His hand rested on the small of your back as the two of you were whisked into interviews. "Tom! It's so great to see you, we'd like to ask you a few questions if that is alright?" The woman smiles as she passes Tom a microphone.
"Of course!" Tom offers the man a smile. "What was your favourite things about filming this movie?" You stayed quiet as you look at Tom, giving him a smile. "Well, I was super grateful to be able to work with such incredible actors and actresses, Peter and Viola just to name a few, I really enjoyed the atmosphere on set, we were all like family," Your boyfriend answers.
You saw a lot of cameras pointed your directions so you wave and smile, "Would you like to explain to us and your fans who this beautiful girl is beside you Tom?" You snap your attention back to Tom and the woman. Tom smiles as you as you look at the woman. "I think you and everyone already have a pretty clear idea on who she is," Tom laughs as does the woman.
"This beautiful girl is my girlfriend. She's stuck with me during the whole filming of the movie and I'm so grateful that she's mine," He answers, his eyes not leaving yours as he pulls you closer to him. "He's just too sweet isn't he?" You chuckle at the camera making them laugh.
Tom presses a kiss on your cheek as you could feel your face heating up slightly. "You two are just too adorable! Thank you for your time, the woman smiles as Tom hands her back the microphone. "My pleasure," Tom gives her a final smile before the two of you are once again whisked into other interviews, where you would sometimes be included.
Then it was time to take pictures. Tom's hand never left yours as you both stood where they were taking the photos. Tom protectively places his hand on your waist as you both pose for the cameras. You were almost blinded by all the flashing and deaf from the shouting.
The string on the back of your dress suddenly became loose as you curse under your breath. Tom looks down at you before moving to stand in front of you in a protective manner to cover you from the cameras. "You okay?" He asks concerned. I look at him with a smile from his sweet gesture.
"The back of my dress came undone," He looks over your shoulder. He then pulls you into a hug as you were slightly taken back. You then feels his hands working on tying your dress back. You let out a chuckle as you rub his back.
The cameras directly in front of you were confused but the cameras by the side all awed at his actions. "There you go, darling," He kisses your cheek as he pulls back. You give him a grateful smile, "Thank you."
"Y/n! Tom!" You hear a feminine voice call out as Rachel and Josh make their way towards the two of you. "Hi!" You smiled, pulling Josh into a hug and then Rachel. "Oh you look stunning," Rachel holds your forearms as you couln't keep the smile of your face.
"Have you looked in a mirror? You look gorgeous Rach!" You pull her in for a second hug as you all laugh at something funny Josh had said as the four of you pose for a picture.
After the premiere, Rachel sent you so many links to nearly every single social media platform. There were a bunch of posts and tiktoks about what happened with your dress and how Tom helped you by hugging you.
You chuckle as you show Tom the posts and hundreds of tiktoks that had already been posted. "They love you," Tom chuckles, kissing your forehead as the two of you lay in each others embrace.
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rizsu · 1 year
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not delusional sano brothers & haitani brothers.
-> haikyuu & jujutsu kaisen version
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shinichiro sano.
“shin,” a little girl calls for her brother. curious hands safely holding shinchiro's phone as she runs through the shop to find her brother. reaching her destination, emma stands on the tip of her toes, holding out his phone up to his face, “who's this girl?”
shoving his cigarette down into the ashtray, shinichiro lifts emma onto his hip. he squints at the phone's screen before looking back at his eight year old sister with a smile, “curious?”
“mhm!”
emma sways her head side to side waiting for an answer from him. shinichiro takes his phone from her, placing it into his pocket while he walks out from his shop and to the house.
“she's my girlfriend.”
“GIRLFRIEND!?”
emma slaps both hands on her mouth, wide eyes looking at her brother in genuine shock. embarrassment settles in shinichiro, he did not need his little sister to shout so loudly. was it really that shocking!? he sets her down the moment he stepped into their home, letting out an airy laugh as he smoothens emma's skirt, “yes, i'm not lying.”
emma's face merges into another shocked expression, her eyebrows raised and her lips curved into an ‘O’. nodding twice emma runs off into the house, whisper-yelling “mikey! mikey!” she's probably going to tell him the jaw-dropping news.
manjiro sano.
draken's suspicious. mikey's been awfully quiet and smiles to himself a lot. raising an eyebrow, draken takes another sip of his drink, is he going crazy? he judges mikey again. for the fifth time this day, mikey's giggled and smiled to himself like a little girl thinking about her celebrity crush.
“what the hell is going on with you?!” draken questions, he takes hold of a random fork from the table, pointing it at mikey demanding an answer.
“say, ‘ken,” mikey speaks, resting both elbows on and clasping his fingers together, he leans in closer before continuing, “what would you do if you got a girlfriend?”
draken, though holding a normal expression, is currently surprised. what does mikey mean? did mikey score a girl? is he truly going insane? questions that'll never find their answers. opening his mouth to answer, draken immediately closes it—he has to think about his answer precisely.
“i'd probably want to show her off? why the fuck are you asking me this!?”
“perfect answer because you see,” mikey stops himself, he leans over the table to whisper in draken's ear, “I GOT A GIRL!” he shouts and receives a slap on the head.
“first of all, never do that again.” draken rubs his ear, rolling his eyes as he shoos mikey away.
“secondly, are your impulses getting worse? need me to get you your comfort snack?” draken genuinely questions. he thinks mikey's gone insane.
“...don't talk to me.” slapping his palms on the table, mikey dramatically slings his bag on his shoulder walking out the shop with fake tears.
ran haitani.
rindou opens the door after three knocks. he looks at you up and down for five seconds before concluding that you got the wrong house. so what does he do? he closes the door but luckily, ran saw you and held the door open.
“don't lock my girl out, rin.”
“sorry, my bad—YOUR GIRL!?”
rindou stops from walking back to his room and spins around immediately. he points at ran before pointing at you, clearly he's confused. from what rindou remembers, ran's a loser that sweet talks but never manages to get past that, so what does he mean by “my girl”?!
you stand there awkwardly while the two brothers bicker. ran's offended and rindou's just rindou. looking at the two brothers, you decide to stop them and introduce yourself.
“hello, i'm y/n.”
“hi, i'm rindou. anyways, RAN.”
he shouts ran's name, demanding further explaination. and what does ran do? shuffle past rindou while pulling you your wrist. he pulls you in front of him before looking back at his younger brother with a lazy smile, “i'll tell you the details later.”
rindou rolls his eyes, walking into his room but before that, he responds to ran, “you better. good night you two.”
rindou haitani.
“you look like a creep.” sanzu walks up to rindou, resting his cold soda on rindou's head. his eyes move to what rindou's watching and looks back to him with a teasing smile.
“what do you mean by creep.” rindou says, slapping off sanzu's drink.
“well, if i saw a random thirty year old man dressed in dark tones looking at a girl i'd think you're a creep—without context of course.” sanzu defends himself, sitting beside rindou slinging an arm over the bench's backrest.
rindou raises his middle finger to sanzu's face, he's not going to listen to him anymore. unlocking his phone, he texts you.
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rindou smiles at your texts which creeps sanzu out. seriously, he's getting goosebumps so he must talk about it.
“gang executive smiles at silly texts with his girlfriend, how unsettling.” sanzu feigns a tremble, looking at rindou in pure disgust as if he committed a crime.
“shut up, pill popper and how did you know..” squinting his eyes at sanzu, rindou questions. how did sanzu know? what was bonten's number two doing to find out such information? how bored was sanzu?
giving rindou a grin, sanzu gives him a vague answer, “i have my ways.”
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bluexiao · 2 years
Text
#taking off your ring in the middle of a fight
–pretty self-explanatory// this can also mean a promise ring or engagement ring that they gave to you
CHARACTERS. Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Il Dottore, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader
THEMES. angst, arguments, slight crack on one of them (guess who), most has no comfort, some has comfort
NOTES. i haven’t been posting multi-hc’s have i? well, here yall go~
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ZHONGLI, at first, failed to notice it until he opened his eyes and turned your way.
It was just an argument, all couples do have one. All normal relationships have such situations, after all. Yet it was beyond him to see the band over the table, where you had just been moments ago, only to leave him to ponder with his thoughts all alone.
He quickly turns and follows you to wherever you might’ve gone, “love?” he calls out with a full voice? “Love?” And a broken one after that when he sees you on the bed, folding clothes on your own.
“Are you… leaving?” He hesitated, clearing his throat and prompting you to look up and meet his eyes.
He braces himself for your answer, brave enough to accept your answer, whatever it may be. He wouldn’t stop you—you have every right to leave, after all.
“What? No, of course not, what made you think-” then your gaze trails down to your fingers upon seeing the ring on his palm, instantly reaching out and taking it from him, “Oh-was that? I was only… I took it off because I had to wash my hands to fold the clothes.” You slowly explained, realizing the intention behind his question as you do so.
“Oh, beloved… I am never leaving you,” you stood up and he was the one who stepped forward and received you in his arms, wrapping you and him sighing out heavily once he felt your body against his.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
XIAO felt the way his knees buckled as he zeroes into your hands, now holding onto the ring that was once wrapped around one of your fingers. That same ring that he had created out of the love from the depths of his heart, a ring that symbolized not only his feelings but also his pledge to never sever the bond you have.
Did you not… want it anymore?
Was the first thought that plagued his mind.
Perhaps… you had finally grown tired of him after all that he has done. After all, who was he to expect you’d always be there for him, when he had clearly not done the same.
He couldn’t really blame you at this point.
He had just ruined the only good thing in his life—and maybe for the better… for you.
Just as he was about to turn around and walk away without a word, he slips back into reality and away from his thoughts on the warmth that attaches itself on his cheeks—a familiar warmth that never fails to pull him out of the darkness and into your presence.
“Darling, shh… what’s wrong? Hey, Xiao? Talk to me, please,” the tenderness of your touch and your soft voice envelops his mind and he couldn’t help but lean into your palm further, placing his gloved hands on top of yours and relishing them on his skin. How they were enough to calm him down makes him even more… greedy—how can he live without you now? The mere thought of it scares him, the old XIAO may not be able to admit it, but the new one after you came into the picture would.
“Please… don’t leave me,” despite this, his words left his lips in a hushed tone, slipping out like a whisper meant for your ears only—his weakness that he never let anyone else see, even his own god.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
TIGHNARI heard your scoff before he saw it. He frowns at the mere sight of your empty fingers, and the glare that’s ever so present in your face.
He marches forward your way and you stood your ground, ready to be hurt by his usual sharo words only to-
“Are you seriously removing our ring because of a petty argument?”
You immediately glance down and before you can sputter out a response, he takes a hold of your hand and slips the ring back himself, back to where it once was—where it belongs. Once you had glanced at him again, he had this relieved look on his face and the twitching on his ears and tail that you didn’t bother to point out.
Was that… a big deal to him?
Your own harsh words died down before they even got out, realizing that there really was no point to continue it as you heaved out a sigh.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
SCARAMOUCHE freezes–not literally, but still–and the ice melts almost suddenly, burning with the intensity of his glare.
“And what do you think you’re doing?”
The thing with SCARAMOUCHE is that he takes—he takes what he wants and he will get it either way. With you, he doesn’t understand how you get your way and he becomes pleased with just seeing you smile.
He just wants to see you smile again.
And that ring on your finger.
But both of them are not really present at this very moment.
“You’re just like the others,” he begins to spat when you respond to his question, then he looks away, knowing that you’re going to leave would only make him regret in glancing through your eyes—one that always understood him well, turns out to be just not too different, “You’re going to betray me, after all.”
And now that he said those words aloud it only dawned on him of the intensity the burden was—how much the truth weighed on his shoulders, just like the several other truths he had kept out of the light ever since your arrival.
His shoulders shook and he cursed at the gods once again.
If only… if only he can replace them, and he’ll never have to suffer like this.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
KAZUHA only got home when it happened.
He left in quite a rush before he sailed off with The Crux, thus leaving you with the argument between the two of you still in the air. And sure, he still did send you letters per usual, the only difference was… you have left him unanswered.
And now that he’s home, he did not know if the sight of the empty house, unopened letters, and the ring left on the counter were something he could have not been surprised with as it was something very expected and reasonable enough.
Feeling stuffy despite the emptiness of the place made him go out and decide to find you. And in his course of doing so, he saw you walking the same way.
“Kazuha… you’re home,” if it were from your displeased tone, he would have already left with the unspoken question answered in his mind. But he stood his ground and made his way towards your form.
“Oh! You found my ring!” You spoke before he can even confront you, and in spite of his surprise upon your actions, upon reaching for your ring, he slips his hands to your waist and wraps your form tightly.
“K-Kazu?” Hearing you stutter even made him more delighted and relieved that his negative thoughts weren’t the reality that he was into.
“I thought you left me… please don’t scare me like that ever again, dove.”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
“If you are leaving me, you do not need to slip out your ring, you just have to say it out loud. Proclaim it, even!”
IL DOTTORE watches as you looked at him with a bewildered look, eyes wide open and jaw slack, “W-what? I only-“ only for you to purse your lips shut and look away. If you had wanted to say something else, it already flies away like dust and never to be seen again.
“Fine! I am leaving you! Happy now? Well, you certainly would,” there was a venom in your voice that no one around him dares to even whisper a peep about—only you. Only you get to treat him like this and be left unscathed.
Even now.
Even now as he watches you leave and thinks how much your words were very untrue, he can never really admit it out loud, could he?
Certainly not.
He glances down at the ring that once laid very gently on your finger—on your warm skin, and now rests upon the cold ground.
Certainly… not.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
DILUC had always admired your eyes, your strong gaze that had crumbled the walls on DILUC’s high walls.
“Love…” his hands reached out to you first before you could go and step out, and despite the glare that he received from you, “shall we talk about this first? Please don’t-“ leave me. The words died down as he stared even more into your eyes.
But… you have the right to leave, don’t you?
A voice in his mind told him that he should let go—it was your freedom to break things off with him.
But another voice told him that you were not as unreasonable as that.
Right?
The only problem was which voice he should follow.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CYNO failed to process the circumstance as quickly as the others, but as soon as he did, you have already walked out of the room and he was left standing there, with your ring–the ring that he once gave you and had never seen you took off until now–on the bedside table.
A sting on his fingertips as he reached out for the golden band, traveling through his arms and to his chest, where he certainly felt the pang that made his heart almost ache—why so? What does this ring symbolize that he hates seeing it on your fingers and not on his palm?
However, before he could interrogate you, you came back to the room and looked at him with a raised brow, “Why are you staring at my ring like that?” And was the first one to ask the question instead.
He frowns and asks back, “Why did you take it off?’
You sigh heavily and rub your forehead, closing your eyes in frustration, “I’m not in the mood to argue with you again, Cyno. Can you just… give me my ring back? Please?”
Upon sensing your emotions and realizing the situation he wordlessly went and followed what you said, only to take your hand and carefully slide the ring on one of your fingers, feeling the sense of contentment wash through his chest.
You wanted to stay angry at him for not even perceiving his mistake, but the gentle rub of his thumb on your hand made you want to forget it and let it die down…
For now.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
AYATO was reminded of his oath, the same oath he had declared to you once he had first slipped the ring on your finger.
But seeing you remove it on your own accord made him feel a pang on his chest, almost akin to the one he felt when he first received news of his mother’s death, of his father’s… and now…
He remained silent and for a rare time in his life, he stopped to contemplate. He had always been known for having the mind to make quick but efficient plans, reasons, and words that would not only be able to hide his true intentions but also to force out someone else’s. Being on edge is nothing new to him. Even this relationship was something he had to fight for and survived with his rational mind.
And now, everything crumbles and thaws like thin ice, forcing him in the cold water that he has always been accustomed to but never fully got to soak in. The truth of the inevitable.
Maybe soulmates really were something only her mother and father could have.
Because even if he found you, he couldn’t even make a way to keep you and his oath to you.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALHAITHAM didn’t care about rings at all, not until he had met you and felt the significance of such a thing.
And so, when he saw the ring out of your finger—the same ring that he bought for a ton of Mora that he could have invested on something else but since it was something that your eyes laid upon and brightened over its sight, he still bought it—he knew something had gone wrong.
“Y/n- Sweetheart… let’s talk about this first.”
Of course, he was also thinking about the Mora he spent—only a little… but he also worried what could’ve made oyu possibly react in such a way?
Or is he just… insensitive like you had said? Insensitive enough he could figure out a lot of things but couldn’t figure you out.
Your uniqueness is indeed one of your charms—and his very weakness.
“We shouldn’t break up over this, Y/n-“
“Who said I was breaking up with you?” You bite back, despite accepting the gentle hold of his hand on your wrist.
“Your ring… Why did you- Oh.” He stares dumbfoundead when you began to wipe the band with your clothes and proceed to slip it back.
“What? I wiped it off because I washed my hand.”
“I… I see.” He clears his throat, looking away.
Right. His weakness indeed.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALBEDO would not be as much affected. Of course, he did notice how you took it off and placed it on his laboratory table, before walking off completely. Notice the way your eyes watered and your teeth biting your lower lip in frustration, your heavy breathing and your stifled cries.
He saw them all.
The ring was customary, he had heard it from his colleagues, and indeed, you deserved one—you deserve the best, and he proceeded to give it to you.
But the sight of the ring alone made him realize just how much he had been swallowed by greed. Far too greedy to give you a ring and continue to break his promise nonetheless. Hurting you without meaning to and trapping you in a relationship made of the wholehearted love you give him and the pieces that he decides to give you in return.
ALBEDO wasn’t affected by the ring.
But it did make him realize how much he had affected you.
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Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~
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rileyslibrary · 6 months
Text
You have a few questions about Ghost’s mask and he has some answers. (platonic, self-indulgent banter)
———————————————————————
You sit side by side outside the medic’s office, waiting for your physical exams. You’ve both just returned from a mission, and it’s standard procedure for all personnel to undergo routine checks upon returning to the base. ‘It’s the protocol’, they said. Boring shit.
Adjusting your shirt, you recline on the chair, glancing at Ghost’s back. He’s slouching, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked together. He turns to his left, looking at something you’re not interested in paying attention to right now.
He’s fascinating.
“Did you make it yourself?” You ask, nodding towards him.
He doesn’t hear you. That, or he pretends he doesn’t do so. You gently nudge his knee with yours to get his attention. He turns over his shoulder, his eyes locking with yours.
“The mask,” you say, pointing at him, then gesturing to your face, “did you make it yourself?”
He keeps staring at you, but not in the same way when he first turned towards you. It’s more ominous now, like a sign in the middle of the road warning you that there’s been an accident ahead. You don’t know what that accident entails, or what you will face if you get closer. Is it a truck that spilt yellow dye all over the road? Is it a major crash with casualties? Do you want to find out?
Yes. Yes, you do.
“I just think it’s neat.” You say, shrugging.
His eyes linger on you for a few more seconds until they end up traveling from your head to your waist. He finally looks away.
You keep staring at the side of his face, studying it; there’s a faint outline of an ear, a barely visible jawline, the skull plate sewn on his painted balaclava.
“Does it get clammy in there?” You ask again, this time louder.
You know he heard you, but he doesn’t turn to look at you this time. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, and so does his head. He closes his eyes, and with a long exhale, he lets it all out. He stretches his neck to the left and then to the right.
“What is it that you wanna know?” He asks.
“You never removed it during our mission, not one single time,” you explain. “Got me wondering if you ever take it off, that’s all.”
He lets out an almost inaudible chuckle; it’s so quiet that you can’t hear it, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall. He slowly shakes his head as he gazes down at the floor. Hopefully, it’s a genuine reaction and not just an attempt to release the tension building up.
He straightens himself, sliding back in his seat before reclining. His shoulders press against yours, and you make room for him as much as possible. It almost feels like he’s intentionally expanding his presence; otherwise, he might have been more considerate with his posture. On the other hand, so would you with all the drilling.
“I, too, wonder about you.” He says.
“About what?” You ask.
“Whether you ever stop talking.” He replies, turning to look at you.
“I have questions.” You explain as your eyes drift to his right ear.
“I can tell,” He says and gestures for you to go ahead. “Let’s hear ’em.”
You straighten up and twist your upper body towards him.
“Ok, so,” you begin and clasp your hands together. “How does the medic check your ears if you keep them covered?”
“My ears are just fine.” He responds almost too quickly.
“How do you know?”
“I keep listening to you, don’t I?” he replies. “It’s my nerves that need checking.”
“Why?”
“Cause I keep listening to you.” He repeats. “Anything else?”
“What about your mouth?” You ask. “What if they need to check that during the examination?”
“I’m sure you’d manage that for both of us,” he replies as he leans further back, resting his head on the wall. “Since yours rarely stays closed.”
“Is that so, Lt.?”
He shuts his eyes and slowly nods.
“Do you have an answer for everything?” You ask.
“Do you want to find out?”
“Do I?”
“Do you?” He says, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.
You open your mouth to say something but decide against it. You close it and twist your body to the front, yet you can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head.
“You forgot the nose.” He says.
“What?”
“The nostrils.” He explains. “You asked about almost every single orifice in the human body except the nostrils and the arsehole, for Christ’s sake.”
“Do they check those?”
“Only if you have allergies,” he replies. “Or an infection.”
“Allergies in the arse?” You joke. “Never heard of that.”
“No,” he says, pointing at you. “Pain in the arse.”
———————————————————————
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angelfic · 9 months
Note
Heyyy
I don't know if your still doing this but if you are, I would LOVE a Mattheo Riddle, mutual pining, prompt 1. Love you so much.
ask and you shall receive😚💌
mattheo riddle x reader + mutual pining + “who did this to you?”
➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game
The castle is silent when you make your way to the Astronomy tower. Over the last week, you’ve figured out the best possible route to get there after curfew without bumping into Peeves or the Baron while avoiding any particularly loud portraits.
Ever since Hermione started pacing around the dorm while knitting, the Muffliato charm has been rendered useless and the clicking of the needles has driven you crazy. Combined with Fred and George’s experiments in the common room until early hours of the morning, the Astronomy tower is the only place you can get a moment’s peace.
Your footsteps into the tower become hesitant though, when you spot a wisp of smoke coming from behind one of the pillars. After taking a few tentative steps further, you realise with a jolt that it’s none other than Mattheo Riddle sat there, cigarette loosely held between his fingers. You recognise him from the barely visible angle pretty quickly, owing to the fact you’ve found yourself staring at him from afar more times than you’d care to admit.
He doesn’t turn around, flicking at his cigarette and when you shuffle, making a noise, he lets his head fall back to rest against the pillar. “Enzo, if you’re here to pester me again, you can fuck off.”
“Er, not Lorenzo,” you reply, voice quiet in the echoing tower. Mattheo sits up straight immediately, twisting around to look at you with wide eyes. “Sorry…”
“It’s fine,” he says quickly, giving you a hint of a smile. He nods over to a spot near him. “You can come sit if you want.”
You contemplate politely refusing since you probably won’t get any work done with Mattheo right in front of you, but another glance at him has your feet moving of their own accord.
Once he comes into full view, you notice in the moonlight that Mattheo’s nose shows the remnants of dried blood, there’s a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone and his knuckles are split open. It isn’t an unusual sight and you’ve often seen him around the castle either in the middle of a fight or with cuts and bruises as a result of one, yet you still find yourself staring.
Mattheo raises an eyebrow and smirks, despite the cut on his lip. “What, have I got something on my face?”
You blink, silent for a couple beats before clearing your throat. “Who, uhm, who did… this… to you?”
He shrugs, bringing the cigarette back to his lips to inhale. “Some Ravenclaw prick this morning.”
“How come you haven’t healed yourself?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. “You normally do by this point.”
Mattheo’s lips quirk up in sort of a pleased smile, his eyes crinkling. “You pay attention to me, do you?”
“No, I- It’s just,” you stammer, fiddling with the corner of your planner and avoiding his gaze. You most definitely do pay attention to him, but you’d much rather jump off the Astronomy tower than admit to it. “You’re always getting into fights. It’s kind of hard not to.”
It isn’t clear if he believes you or not, since his face still displays an unwavering smile, but he nods slowly before answering your previous question. “Enzo usually does it. The healing spells.”
You consider this and hesitate for a few seconds, biting your bottom lip in nervous habit before abruptly standing up and walking over to the Slytherin. Plopping down next to him, you take your wand out of your pocket, which he eyes warily.
“I know some healing spells,” you explain. Raising your eyebrows in question, you point your wand at his face and wait for his consent, which he gives in the form of a nod. Starting with his lip, you mutter “Episkey.” The cut seals itself up, so you do the same with his knuckles before using ‘Tergeo’ to siphon off the dried blood around his hands and nose.
“Back to looking flawless?” he asks with a cheeky grin and you choke out a laugh, surprised at how relaxed he’s being with you. Mattheo isn’t as brooding as the rest of his friends, but he certainly isn’t all sunshine and giggles with people he isn’t close with. And it’s not like the two of you have ever conversed before, so you’re a little more than puzzled. Not that you’re complaining. “What’s had you so exhausted this week?”
“Hermione’s been staying up knitting and I can’t sleep through it like the others,” you sigh, moving back to sit against the pillar like Mattheo is. This is your first night coming to the Astronomy Tower though, so you furrow your brows and turn to Mattheo to tell him exactly that. “How do you-”
“You’ve been nodding off at breakfast,” he says, matter-of-fact. You don’t know how to respond, opening your mouth but not having anything to say. Mattheo notices your loss for words and swallows, suddenly sheepish. The tips of his ears have turned a light pink and he shuffles, making your shoulders touch slightly. “I pay attention to you too.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, heart about to burst out of your chest. You look down to where his hand is on the floor next to yours and in a brave move, you move your own so your pinkies are touching.
Mattheo is silent when he interlocks your fingers, meeting your eyes. His smile reappears, one that feels reserved for you. You’ve never seen him look more gentle before, and when he finally reaches over to kiss you in the quiet, moonlit tower surrounded by the stars, you begin wishing you’d started losing sleep weeks ago.
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ghosts-bandwagon · 9 months
Note
hi yes i’ve been craving cod content but writer’s block sucks so
can i get some headcanons for soap , ghost , and könig [seperate] w/ a gn!reader who generally acts cold and stoic but the second they’re alone or when they see something that catches their interest , they get really giddy ?
thank youuuuu
Simon ‘Ghost’
He absolutely loved seeing that spark in your eyes
The moment your eyes locked onto the limited edition art book for your favorite game, you were a goner
He saw the way you gingerly picked it up like you were going to break it and his heart melted
You were radiating excitement, clearly biting your tongue to keep yourself from bursting
So he decided to be the best boyfriend and ask you about it, and he was floored at how much you knew
You went on about how they took inspiration from different artists from different time periods and even listed the pieces they used, pulling them up on your phone to show him
Only going into further detail on the inspiration behind those art pieces, he was amazed by how much you knew about art
Your knowledge seemed endless and the excitement and awe in your voice was infectious
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
You’re never gonna live it down sweetheart
You both were driving home when a commercial on the radio came on announcing your favorite band, you gasped so hard it scared the shit out of him and he slammed the brakes
Then you quickly apologized and explained what happened, Johnny couldn’t stop laughing, despite your breathless giggles telling him to shut up
When you got home, Johnny bought the tickets and asked you to tell him everything about the band
You wasted no time putting together a playlist of their songs by order of your most to least favorite, even going so far as to explain why they’re your favorite and how they became your favorite
Your smile could light up the sky, he felt like he was right there with you when you recounted the first time you heard the songs and how you were feeling
Now that he knows this band is a catalyst for that enchanting side of you, he’ll do everything he can to bring it out of you
He lives for the sparkle in your eyes and the excitement in your voice, it’s addictive
König:
God he lives for those moments
Ever since that first time he saw you get so excited when you two walked past the pastry shop, he decided he only ever wanted to see that look on you forever
So he makes it a point to take you to different bakeries a few times a month, just so he can see that sparkle in your eyes
He’d ask you about the different pastries, where they come from, how they’re made, what are some different flavor combinations you’d recommend, he wants to know it all
And he’s watching you explain it all the whole time, chin resting on his palm, hearts in his eyes as you answer his questions diligently
He almost worries that you’re not breathing when you go into detail about why the egg custard pastry is such a valued desert in Portugal
God he loves seeing you get so excited, he loves the joy in your eyes, and he loves hearing all your knowledge, he could listen to you forever if you asked him to
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kamiversee · 2 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 26 || The Change of Events (Continued)
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & beautifully filthy smut.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——OF COURSE, HE DIDN'T have to tell you twice. You chuckled and happily made your way into the passenger seat of the car after Toji told you he was going to drive further away from the nearby party.
The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see what the two of you were about to do.
You didn't even bother to put a seatbelt on as he drove, your eyes all over the man and admiring how stupidly sexy he was. Toji's eyes are low as he drives down a few streets, making a couple of turns before he gets to a house and goes to back the car in.
For a moment you were confused but when the garage to said house began to open, you realized it was his house he'd taken you to. This surprised you because it meant that Toji only lives a few streetways away from Sukuna.
As he backed his car in, his arm was stretched over to the back of your seat and you just drank in the large muscles visibly against his shirt.
"I didn't know you lived this close to campus, Mr. Fushiguro," You comment casually, having remembered that school was roughly a fifteen-minute drive from this neighborhood.
The area Sukuna lived in versus the area Toji lived in was drastically different, that fact was noticeable based on the kinds of houses on each street.
"Well," He sighs as the car comes to a stop, "You know now."
"Y'know you never answered me when I asked why you were out by yourself and near a college party..." You point out.
"Was' lookin' for my son. He has a friend who lives there," Toji explains.
You tilt your head curiously, "How old is he?"
"Uhhhh..." Toji takes a long moment to recall, "Twelve... I think."
"You think?"
"Yeah, he's twelve." The man confirms, sounding more like he was confirming it to himself.
You nod, "Right... Well, he wasn't there so, where is he?"
"Another friend's house apparently." Toji hums, "Lil' shit didn't tell me anything and just took his bike there."
You chuckle, "Ohhh I see..."
"Anyways," Toji moves to shut the garage door with the same button in his car that he used to open it and then he turns the car headlights off, looking over to you, "Do you wanna go inside or-,"
He stops as he watches you start pulling your hair back out of the way and shifting in your seat. It was sexy the way you shifted so that your knees were in the seat and so that you could turn to face Toji. His eyes widen as you comfort yourself and then lean over the console in between his seat and yours.
"Guess that answers my question..." Toji chuckles slightly, moving to slide his seat back and reclining the upper half ever so slightly to give you space.
Those large thighs of his that you once rode on, part and his hips roll up slightly as he adjusts himself in his seat. Your hands move for his belt, working the item off him with his eyes on you the entire time.
As you do that and then begin to undo his pants, Toji glances over at how your back is arched and how your ass is sticking up, the sight making his dick twitch. Your small fingers are felt brushing over his member while you work his pants out of the way.
Toji bites his lip and returns his gaze down to you. He watches the way your hands tug his boxers down and he lets out a deep and low groan as you pull his cock out.
Your eyes go wide at the sight and your mouth salivates. Again, the urge to suck dick is running strongly through you right now and your body is tingling in arousal.
Okay, you knew Toji had a big dick and you obviously remember the way it felt inside your cunt but good lord when it's right in front of your face it's almost intimidating. Toji's cock is so veiny and fucking thick. You don't know if you should be scared or aroused right now-- maybe both. Maybe scaroused.
That's not a real word but it defines how you feel right now anyway.
You can see the beads of white precum oozing out his tip and sliding down the length of his cock. The sight alone is stimulating, making your pussy clench around absolutely nothing. The fact that this thing had once been inside you is absolutely crazy.
Water wells up in your mouth and you start by simply letting a gallop of spit drip out of your mouth and down to Toji's cock. You watch the way his member twitches at the contact.
Toji tips his head back a little and gets comfortable in his seat, his breathing growing noticeably louder and even a bit heavier before a low hum is heard vibrating against his throat.
Your hand moves to his cock and you start out simple, spreading both your spit and his precum all over his length as you stroke him. Toji's brows are quick to tense up and he grits his teeth at the feeling of your soft and warm hand running up and down his dick.
Your hand jerks him off steadily as you mentally prepare yourself to take him into your mouth. You give his shaft a squeeze and hear a suppressed grunt come from him. The sound of him trying to hold it in makes you smile.
You lean your head down to his tip but angle yourself so that you can look into his eyes as you kiss it. Toji's seat was leaning decently far back so it wasn't too difficult to meet his eyes.
He was gritting his teeth already and breathing through his nose heavily. Toji watches the way your tongue sticks out your mouth and swirls around the entirety of his tip, the sensation making his brows furrow in pleasure for a moment.
"Shit." He curses quietly.
You then go from licking to wrapping your lips around his tip, lazily sucking on it, and getting your tongue used to having him against you. Toji's above you repressing every sound to the best of his ability but when you move to use two hands instead of one, he struggles to contain his groans.
Both sets of fingers curl around his cock and you focus your mouth on his tip, no longer looking at his face and directing your attention to your actions.
"Fuuck." Toji groans deeply, his low voice filling your ears and making your cunt throb.
An idea spurs into your brain and you tip your head to the side again, meeting his eyes for a moment before you pull your mouth off his dick. Your tongue sticks back out and you make him watch the way your wet pink muscle slides in between the slit of his cockhead, gathering what's left of precum onto your tongue.
You then bring yourself up just a little and swallow it down, "Mr. Fushiguro..."
"H-Hmm?" He hums in response.
"Am I..." You go back to using only one hand to jerk him off, "Am I doing this right?"
You know damn well you're doing everything right but something made you want to tease him. Toji scoffs, "Doin' jus' fine, doll. Keep goin'."
You grin and plant another kiss on his tip. Then, you tilt your head and trail kisses down his length up until you get to the base, to which you then stick your tongue out and drag it all the way back up.
Toji bites his lower lip and instinctively moves a hand to the top of your head, casually urging your lips back over his tip and clearly ready for you to take him into your mouth. Your teasing licks were driving him insane so he worked his large hand through your hair and gripped it lightly.
As he did so, you finally took him into your mouth. Toji tosses his head back immediately, "Aagh, fuck... that's it, atta' girl..." He encourages, words going straight to your sex.
The second he began entering your mouth, you grew eager to stuff your throat with as much of him as you could, regardless of whether or not you'd gag and or possibly choke. You removed your hand from him and used only your mouth, taking as much of his inches as you could.
"God damn-," Toji grunts, his eyes flickering to the wet warmth of your mouth. His head rolls back into place and he watches as you start bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
His breathing stutters while he watches you, seeing how his dick disappears into your mouth and feeling your soft hums vibrate against him. Toji's hips unconsciously jolted upward into your mouth, forcing his cock a bit deeper.
You gag only a little, the sound of it echoing throughout his car. A little whine follows your gag, making Toji smirk.
The hand on top of your head pushes you down and he does it again, jerking his hips up and this time causing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, "You wanted' to suck me off so bad..." He hums, "At least go all the way down. Take every inch..." Toji groans a little after his last statement.
He was challenging you and you were far too horny to allow him to test you. So, you moved to put your hand over his and urge him to force your face even further down.
He chuckles, "Damn whore..." Toji then feels the way you swallow around him and try to contain your gagging.
His hand gripped onto a chunk of your hair and he began moving you up and down his cock, forcing you to suck him properly and using your mouth like a fucking cock sleeve. You quickly start to moan around his shaft as he manhandles you, feeling your pussy leak with arousal.
Toji shoved your head down and thrust up a bit harder than he meant to, his tip knocking into the back of your throat and making you choke. The sensation goes straight to his balls, making his jaw drop a little.
"Such a greedy slut-, a-aagh... fuuuck..." Toji moans, his head going back once more.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head a bit every time your lips reach the base of his cock, sloppy gagging and choking noises filling the entirety of his car as he continues to push and pull your mouth up and down his length.
Toji can feel his abs clenching every time your throat tightens around him, hearing your poor little moans and feeling how they vibrate against him, "Doin' so good... oh shiit... fuckin' throat feels so good around my cock."
"Mmmgh..." You moaned against him, leading Toji to flash a lustful smile.
Your gaze was growing hazy as water glossed over them. He was being so aggressive and you loved it. The stimulation you got from feeling his girth ram up into your mouth was like no other.
For a moment, Toji relaxes his hips from thrusting up into your mouth and focuses on bobbing your head down on him. You suck him eagerly and even continue as his hand suddenly moves away from you.
You begin to twist your head a bit as you throat his length, saliva escaping out the corners of your mouth and filthy dick-sucking noises filling the air.
Abruptly, you feel a large hand come down on your ass and you pull your mouth off his dick with a pop. The sound of the smack is loud within the vehicle.
Toji grabs the fat of your ass, toying with it in his hands before moving to tug your dress up. The fabric bundles up around your waist, revealing coordinating lace panties beneath.
Toji bites his lip at the sight before looking down at you, panting and trying to catch your breath. "Why'd you stop?" He questions, giving your ass another smack.
Your body jumps a little at the contact and you grin, "N-Needed to b-breathe..." You huff out.
His palm rubs over the area of your ass he just slapped and he gives you another squeeze, "Keep goin'." Toji says.
You suck in one last deep breath of air before sinking your head back down. His cock enters your mouth again and he hums approvingly. You went back to bobbing your head up and down his length until two fingers suddenly pressed against your underwear, feeling along your slick cunt through the fabric.
You gag on Toji and he groans, "Aagh... take it jus' like that, take my fuckin' cock," He encourages, feeling the way your cunt twitches against his fingers. He smiles, "Y'like when I talk to you, huh?"
"M-Mhmmm..." You hum as best as you can in response.
Toji's fingers rub a slow circle over your sex, feeling your wetness coat his digits even through the fabric of your panties. He scoffs, "You got this wet from suckin' me off? F-Fuck..."
As best as you can, you wiggle your hips into his touch, trying to give your cunt more friction against his fingers. The sensation makes you dizzy with satisfaction, nearly on the verge of an orgasm due to all the buildup from this night.
When you pull up, you decide to suck him all the way in as you go down again, inhaling in a deep breath and opening up the back of your throat before sliding back down. Toji moans filthy as you suddenly deepthroat his cock, his free hand moving to the top of your head.
He applies light pressure, enough to keep you still, "S-Stay like that for a sec'.... F-Fuck..." Toji moans again, the sound a bit more pitched and airy than he liked.
Your throat is being stretched by his thick cock and water is spilling from the corners of your eyes and drool is leaking down to your chin. As you hold yourself there for as long as you can, you feel Toji's fingers move your underwear to the side and then suddenly thrust two of his fingers in.
You choke around his dick, the sensation making him groan loudly before your head flies up off him. Spit and tears run down your face as you start coughing a bit, Toji's fingers thrusting knuckle deep into you.
"Oh fuck-," You gasp, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. To finally get some kind of relief after what felt like hours was so satisfying.
Unlike your first time with him, you managed not to cum after one thrust. But, there was so much moisture coming from your pussy that you could feel it slipping down in between your thighs.
Toji smirks, "Feels good, huh?"
You nod so desperately, pushing your hips back to match the thrusting of his fingers, "S-So good... nngh... fuck..."
His fingers curl against your slick walls and you moan right before lowering your head again. Toji grunts as he feels you start sucking his dick again.
He turns to look at the way you're backing your hips into his hand, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. "Pussy was back here droolin' for some attention..." Toji comments as he massages your walls just right.
Your cunt clamps around his fingers in reaction to his lewd words and you can feel the knot in your core building up.
He glances down at how eagerly your mouth is working against him, feeling your tongue swirl around his length, "M'gonna cum soon..." He sighs, seeing your spit has completely smothered every inch of his cock.
His warning fuels you to continue, sucking him harder into your mouth and rubbing your tongue over each and every vein as if to later be able to remember the feeling. Toji releases a guttural groan when you focus on the veins of his cock, his legs starting to shift around as he grows close.
"Fuu-uck," He stammers, "...Gonna' cum down y-your throat, pretty girl," Toji warns for a second time.
He then adds a third finger inside you and you spasm, moaning and whining against his cock as you both feel pleasure evenly. Your legs threaten to close as his three large fingers skillfully work your insides.
Toji shakes his head, "Keep 'em open." He directs.
"Mmh... mmgh..." You moan again, trying your best to do as he says.
"That's it, good fuckin' girl," Toji praises, instantly feeling how tight both your cunt and throat squeeze around him.
Your eyes roll back and you deepthroat his cock one more time with a loud moan whilst releasing all over his fingers. The wet squelching of him stroking you through your orgasm can be heard and Toji wasn't too far behind you.
You start licking at him while he rests deep inside your throat, earning a low moan from him and his hand gripping your hair. Toji lifts you about halfway up off his cock before he starts thrusting up into your mouth.
As he does so, you quickly feel the way he starts cumming in your mouth with a loud groan.
"F-Fuuuuck..." When you start gulping it down as best as you can, Toji's eyes roll back a little, "Just... like... that-, swallow it all-, fuck..." He moans, his words coming out in between his thrusts.
You do just that up until he's done, feeling as his thrusts slow down and there's nothing left for you to gulp down. Toji pulls your head off his member completely, lifting it so that he can get a good look at your face.
"Show me," He instructs.
You stick your tongue out with a little ahh sound following, earning a proud smile from him.
"Good girllll," Toji praises yet again, his words causing you to flash a fucked out smile.
His fingers that were lodged inside you carefully slip out and he brings them to his mouth, making you watch as he sucks the taste off.
"Mmh." He hums, almost surprised, "Tastes' sweet."
You giggle softly in response before carefully moving back to your seat.
You both separately fix yourselves up and Toji offers you some wipes he had in his car so that you can clean your face and legs off.
When you're done, you meet his gaze and he smiles, "Think your legs will give out like last time?"
You roll your eyes, "Who knows..."
The two of you share a laugh and your night comes to a simple end just like that.
So many things felt like it had happened but even so, you had to mentally prepare yourself for the following day.
You were to meet Nanami Kento.
Who knows how that'll play out?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months
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Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it
“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 
“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 
To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  
“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 
“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”
“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 
“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 
///
Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 
With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 
When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 
The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 
Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 
///
He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 
The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 
Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 
“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 
“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 
Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 
“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 
His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 
///
“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 
Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 
“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 
“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 
“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 
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longdaytogo · 10 months
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the boy in the portrait
@hotchnaur wrote a fic for this!
This is based off a little snippet I wrote which honestly isn't much (since I have absolutely no writing skills) but was more of a "I need to write this down before it disappears forever from my brain" kind of rush.
This takes place in an AU where Draco didn't make it out of the Fiendfyre, but the war is won and done. The Ministry has ordered a cleanup and seizes pureblood residences, namely Malfoy Manor, and Harry volunteers to inspect the property. He doesn't know why he did, but still apparates to the front gate, in a sort of trance since the Room of Requirement incident, not fully understanding why he's feeling so.
As he walks up the spiraled stairs and down the long corridors, it hits him that he's in the Malfoy ancestral home, the very place where Draco grew up. The eerie quiet is interrupted by the sound of a child crying and murmured shushes from a further corridor up the path. When he follows the sound, he's greeted by a long line of portraits, all old and dead, glaring at Harry before sharply turning and disappearing into their paintings.
He continues down the path until he gets to the very last portrait—a young boy crying, fisted hands covering his face. The other portraits tell him to "pipe down that noise" before vanishing, leaving only Harry and the young boy. When Harry approaches the smaller boy in the portrait to ask if he's alright, he stops dead in his tracks. It's Draco. A much younger Draco who looks to be around 6 or 7, much smaller than his first year at Hogwarts with his signature white blond hair and not-so-pointy chin.
Young Draco sniffles, wipes away his tears, and looks up at Harry, confused about who he is. He asks where his mother and father are and how lonely he is here. He explains how he "woke up" one day in this portrait and feels scared. How all the other portraits (namely Great Great Aunt Belvina and Grandfather Cygnus) won't answer his questions and only tell him to be quiet.
Harry stares at the younger Malfoy absentmindedly. He tells Draco he's here to stay for a while and asks if he has any messages for Lucius and Narcissa. "They're out right now but they'll be back shortly," he says, and young Draco's eyes light up. Draco finds a willing listener in Harry and tells him about how sad he is here, how delightfully boring it is, about his new toy dragon from Diagon Alley and about that one time Pansy and Theo fell face first in a puddle of mud as he and Blaise had watched, giggling while saying so.
Harry quietly listens, noticing he still points his nose up tauntingly while teasing and the way his haughty air or confidence seems to permeate the conversation. Harry tries to absorb all that he can, overlapping this young Draco with his Draco—noticing their similarities and difference where one is all childlike innocence and laughter, while the other only a mere husk of a boy towards his final days.
Young Draco tells Harry about his first flying lesson and his new broomstick when he suddenly asks if Harry knows "Harry Potter." Shocked, Harry asks how he knows the name when Draco, going a bit red in the ears, replies back how he's going to be Harry's best friend at Hogwarts ("once my letter arrives in a few years!") he says proudly. He tells Harry how he's made father buy out all the books on "Harry Potter" and how mother reads them to him nightly.
Draco makes Harry promise not to tell anyone, sharing that he only revealed it to so because he had shared so much already. Harry promises and, feeling a bit disheartened, says he needs to go, but he'll come back soon. Young Draco pouts and whines but understands, reminding Harry to pass along the message to Lucius and Narcissa. He waves goodbye, on the promises of "I'll see you later," and disappears into his portrait. Harry watches the boy vanish, then turns to leave down the corridor he came.
Walking down the stone path back to the gate, he recalls a boy with teary eyes surrounded by scorching flames and another boy dreaming of befriending the Boy Who Lived. He leaves Malfoy Manor feeling choked and a little worse than when he arrived.
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prokopetz · 2 years
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I think we need to take the “what if the conventional monster was friendly?” thing in fantasy worldbuilding further. “What if the dragon was friendly?” and “what if the orcs across the valley were friendly?” are well and good, but I’m thinking more like “what if the animated skeletons in the local graveyard were friendly?”
I think with the animated skeletons in particular the key is to play up their separation from the living in a way that’s still kinda creepy, but in an odd way rather than a horrific way. Something like:
Animated skeletons are explicitly not just skeleton versions of the living people their bones came from, and in fact don’t seem to have much in the way of individual identity – or, at least, if they do, they don’t express it in the way that humans do.  
They aren’t impaired by the loss of individual bones – including the skull! – and can freely swap bones among themselves. The same pile of loose bones won’t always animate into the same number or configuration of skeletons, nor does having more available bones necessarily translate into more skeletons.  
Consequently, questions like “how many skeletons are there?” are difficult to answer.  
Animated skeletons generally seem to understand both spoken and written languages, but don’t have much capacity for producing language; they don’t speak or write, and their capacity for signing is limited to stuff like nodding or shaking their head for “yes” or “no“, pointing to indicate objects or directions, etc.  
In spite of this, they appear to be able to communicate complex information and ideas amongst themselves, but it happens via some undetectable, (presumably) non-language-based medium.  
Their otherwise limited expressive capacity notwithstanding, skeleton “culture” (if that’s the word for it) is very big on making music. Instruments and sheet music are among the few material goods that skeletons value, though the former are typically limited to those that can be operated without breath.  
(This generally means percussion and strings. Wind instruments that can be operated without breath are an occasional feature; pipe organs are a big deal in those skeleton communities that can get their phalanges on them, as are a modified form of bagpipes, operated by two-skeleton teams where one plays the music and the other inflates the bag with a portable bellows.)  
Apart from music, skeletons are mostly into repetitive manual labour, though exclusively on a volunteer basis, as they’re uninterested in payment and will simply collapse into inanimate piles of bones if coerced. If you want a skeleton to do something for you, be prepared to explain why, in detail, to a silent, motionless, and expressionless audience.  
Skeletons are notably more likely to heed a request from a priest or religious scholar than from laypersons. There are a lot of theories as to why this is; the skeletons themselves are disinclined to comment.  
A skeleton with nothing better to do may squat like a gargoyle near some well-trafficked location and observe local goings-on, remaining motionless apart from turning its skull toward points of interest for days or weeks on end. It’s generally considered polite not to draw attention to their presence.
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angelltheninth · 4 months
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From those cute flirting prompts can I order a 52 with Hawks?
You can order anything with Hawks honestly. I love the big bird man.
Pairing: Keigo Takami/Hawks x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, jealousy, reassurance, soothing kisses, flying, ruined date night
Word count: 0.5k
Ao3
A/N: I'd be mad too if my date night with Hawks got ruined.
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52. "It's you. It's only ever going to be you."
Dating the number two hero was always gonna come with challenges. But come on, you can't even go on one date without being interrupted at some point. You can deal with even that but the one thing you can't stand is people flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you no less.
Your hands are tight on his suit jacket, you're glaring at the group of his fans that ask questions and throw in the occasional flirting remark his way. And still they don't leave.
"Ah, please everyone, calm down. As much as I love my fans, I'm here on a date." It was like you were invisible until Keigo gestured towards you. Knowing that only caused you to shrink further into his side. "And we happen to be late. So excuse us." Keigo lifted you bridal style and with one flap of his wings you were in the air, away from the still persistent fans. "Much better. Should have gone with this right away rather then walking there."
Keigo smiled down at you but you couldn't return it. It would be fake, he would see right through it. Instead you curled into him as close as you could.
"Shit, are you cold up here? I should've given you my jacket before taking off. And you're wearing that dress too, I'm sorry for not thinking." He was quicker to apologize and kiss your forehead then you were to explain yourself, which did ease some of your worries.
"Some of those women were very pretty." You said as casually as possible.
"Huh? Er, I guess?" Keigo narrowed his eyes at you, noticing you chewing your cheek. "Not prettier then you. Not to me at least."
"Keigo..."
"No, I'm serious." He pulled you closer, his hands warming up the areas where they touched, "Listen, I'm with you aren't I? Everyone says that the Number Two Hero can have anyone right? Well I have you. It's you. It's only ever going to be you. I don't care what kind of words anyone else throws at me or how they look." His voice carried far in the noiseless sky. "I love you. You're the only girl for me."
You were about to reply when he suddenly paused, "Keigo, we're gonna be late." He smirked at you and started floating a bit lower, "Keigo? What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. You were lower now, low enough to be visible to the people walking down on the streets. Keigo took a deep breath, "I love my girlfriend! She's so nice and smart and funny and hot! She makes me really happy!" Your face exploded with heat as you listened to him shout at the top of his lungs, catching everyone's attention, some people even took out their phones to record.
"Oh my god. Fine, I get it, we can go now!" You buried your face in his shoulder but he lingered there for a few more moments before flying you in the direction of the restaurant. By the time you got there the clip of his confession was already all over the internet. "For the record, I love you too. You goofball."
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twistedbloodstain · 4 months
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I have two ideas for the marquis de framing that I think you’d do great writing!
1: where the reader is interrogating the marquis (meaning she kidnapped him) and through there, they start to get feelings for each other
2: reader (who had a relationship of some sort with the marquis) fakes their death because they couldn’t take the assassin world. The marquis is devastated (lots of angst hehehe). They meet again while the reader is trying to help someone (maybe John, lol)
3: reader who is part of the high table meets the marquis for the first time. Sorta like live at first sight.
vincent de gramont x reader: i could never give you peace | what’s meant to be is supposed to be
plot: the one where he finds you again.
warnings: the reader’s a medic/healer in here SORRYYY…, she knew john from before, he rats her out lolz, kidnapping except vincent doesn’t do it this time..(yay! cuz he forced someone else to do it!!!), anon im so sorry i focused too hard on one part, i will do an extra (i swear)
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“stay still.” you mumble.
mr. wick lets out a small grunt while you sew his wound back together, nothing too fatal (at least in his standards) but without the help of any anesthesia or alcohol to soothe the pain, the assassin had no choice but to follow.
“don’t worry, it's almost done.” you whisper almost finished with patching up the flesh on his back. “and..there..”
he immediately gets off his seat and reaches for his shirt stationed on a random desk scattered with medical supplies. he digs into his suit jacket and fishes out a coin and hands it over to you, you accept it eagerly and begin cleaning up.
“you need any help with transport?” you inquire while you discard your bloodied gloves and utensils.
“yeah.”
“on your way out turn left and find the guy with a gray jacket. he’s one of winston’s men, he’ll help you out. where are you headed?” you inquire while washing your hands. he hesitantly answers before offering a reply.
“paris.”
“oh.” you stop in your movements and look at him. he stands near the door way all dressed up with blood caking his temples, he still looks rugged and in no shape to do what he has to do in pairs but your opinion likely doesn’t matter to him.
“good luck, i guess.” you mutter.
“you’ve been there.” he says.
“i..have.” you hope he doesn’t press any further.
“what’s in paris?” he questions but doesn’t take a step further.
“for you?” you uneasily say, he doesn’t reply.
“a dangerous man. i..think you’ll die trying just to get what you want, mr. wick. but hey, who knows? maybe, it’s now him.” you explain.
“the guy who had the continental demolished, was it him?” he sternly asks.
“..yes, i think it was him.” you confess, avoiding his eyes.
it had been almost three years since you left that country.
three years since you left him.
you can’t even bear to say his name because if you do, all of it will spill out. how he met you, how kept you and how he loved you. 
he nods, “and for you?”
“an even more dangerous man.”
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 ever since mr. wick entered and left your clinic. you've been in a constant state of anxiety. the mere thought and mention of him had you nervous, especially when you heard that he was in new york a few days ago. you thought it was all over, that he found you and was going to rip you from your freedom in this city.
the following news shocked you to your core, the new york continental being demolished was not in your bingo card as to why he’d be here. all because of an excommunicated assassin which you had tended to almost a day after the bombing.
although you’re horrified with the state of events, relief flooded you when you realized he wasn’t there for you. you’d still be safe from him.
but you can’t help but think what all of this means for him. at some point, you know that john wick will kill him, and you somehow played a part in it. you feel a tinge of regret for him but it’s quickly overshadowed with the horrors he’s done and you don’t feel as bad.
he did like you though, when you still worked at france for him as his estate medic. whenever he found himself wounded in the line of fire in an ambush attack, you were the one who tended to his wounds and saw him at his weakest. you don’t know why but a strong sense of trust was established between the two of you.
you thought it to be a friendship but fleeting glances of affection would seep through when you talked or when a large bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared in your clinic after patching him up. 
you toyed with a pin he gave you, his insignia. only he wore it proudly on his coat and truly, it warmed you to him. he did make you feel appreciated, small touches on your back and sometimes fiddling with your hands whenever you sewed his wounds, gave you butterflies in your stomach.
with you he was just…vincent.
soft words and touches with soulful eyes looking into yours, just gentleness and affection present in him. it made you indulge into it too, that he isn’t the cruel man people made him out to be. he isn’t heartless, that’s just how the world is.
a naive perspective.
a perspective that was easily shattered when you’d hear a bloodcurdling scream from the barn, and he walks out with blood on his hands and a disgusted look on his face from his clothes being stained. gunshots echoing beneath the servant’s staircases and thudding bodies being dragged into the secluded forests of the estate. you whisper to yourself those very same words even if all his actions sent chills on your spine.
but the truth of it is that, he is heartless. he is the man people made him out to be and you’re a fool thinking he could be better for you but at the end of the day, he is still the marquis.
it made you think. what if this is all a game to him? what if the moment he finds you uninteresting you become another stain on his suit? 
it’s not a secret that men like him love having delicate pretty things only to break them apart. that’s all you are his current delicate and pretty thing.
you decided to leave. you weren’t staying long enough to find out what would happen to you, feelings be damned when you’re easily replacable to him. you knew that the marquis was like a dog to a bone when he didn’t get the things he wanted, which only pooled fears into your stomach should he find you in new york.
he cannot have you.
you stare at the pin before chucking the pin somewhere in the room, you get up from your chair and begin closing the windows from your clinic.
a knock comes from the door, you chuck the remaining medical materials into a random desk and walk up to the door. wounded assassins aren’t a strange occurrence at this time of the evening but something…felt different.
your gut was telling you to ignore the person on the other side and stay still. you thought that maybe if you didn’t answer the person would go away. wanting to play things safe you don’t mutter a word that would alert them of your presence. it usually worked in some cases.
the knocking persists, much harder and louder now. your hands begins to shake and your eyes start looking around for an emergency firearm to help defend yourself, your actions frantically halt when you hear a voice through the door.
“doc?” a gruff voice asks.
you sight and put a hand on your chest. it’s just john wick. you eagerly open the door to let him in.
“john.” you greet, “come inside.” you invite him as you walk inside.
john doesn’t follow you and a confused expression takes your face, until you take a good look at him. for the first time, john wick doesn’t look wounded to you, his face and hands void of any blood, a new bulletproof suit adorning his body, a french one you notice but it still leaves you questioning things.
“i’m assuming france went successful.” you say.
“…it’s close.” he pauses before replying, seeming as if he’s finding the right words to say.
“what do you need?” you question.
“it’s winston. he’s been shot.” you freeze.
oh dear. you never really approved of the things he did but a soft spot was always present for him and charon. they helped you settle here in new york, but winston took you in even when he knew of your history with vincent. you swore to always help him in ways you could and now the opportunity presented itself.
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the car sped down the street with you and john in tow. you hold your medical kit close to your lap, feeling uneasy with the thought of losing the old man. charon had been so recent and you don’t think you bear to lose the friends you’ve made along the way.
you glance at john and he looks calm and composed as usual, eerily so. a week earlier he was calm but you could feel his anger and determination simmering underneath his skin. now it looked like he was taking a walk in a park. you eye him carefully, uneasiness seeping in your stomach.
“did they give it to you?” you ask, he looks at you before clearing his throat.
“just an extension.” he answers, knowing exactly what you were referring to.
“to do what?” you ask again, john doesn’t budge and continues driving, ignoring your question. your eyes stay on him but he doesn’t look at you.
silence settles into the car and you lean back in your seat. you really wish your brought your gun with you right now. you don’t know why but you have a feeling that something is wrong right now, especially with john. he’s not telling you something.
or maybe it really is none of your business. perhaps he wanted to spare the bloody details of how he’s going to win his freedom back. you relax and try to forget the uneasiness, trying to remember that winston is the priority right now, you shut your eyes. all of your fears are gathering together and it’s making you overthink your interaction with john, everything’s okay.
the loud sound of drilling makes you open your eyes, you look at the window and you see a familiar street. 
the new york continental was being rebuilt.
your apprehensiveness returns.
“john?” you look at him once again, “who shot winston?”
“he got hit during the line of fire.” this time he replies.
bullshit. winston would have an emergency plan before the shooting started.
“in new york?” you press.
“yeah.”
another bullshit. you could see through his lies, he’s clearly fresh out of france. what was he trying to do? 
“j-john.” you voice shakes almost as if you’re begging. something happened in france, something that saved both winston and john.
he looks at you with regret in his eyes. not enough to save you for what’s about to come.
“where are you taking me?” you sputter, your heart beating fast in anxiety, “i’ve done nothing but help you, please don’t do this!”
“he took winston with him and he found out.” he quietly defends.
“please help me, i don’t want to go back!” you begin crying, tears rolling down your face, “he’ll kill me!” 
he makes no reply and continues driving. with no hope left with him, you try to open your side of the door. he immediately notices this and grabs your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you begin hitting him with your other arm.
you know that he doesn’t want to do this but it feels so unfair. you’ve saved his life only to throw yours away.
“let go of me!” you scream.
“i’m sorry.” 
you feel a prick in your neck.
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you feel a heavy sensation pulling at your leg, your eyes feeling groggy still wanting to keep your lids closed. however the sensation persists and this forces you to open your eyes and sit up.
a dark room welcomes you, only a small lamp helping you take a small look of where you are. specifically, on a plush bed and a decorated room. your body feels heavy  from exhaustion which makes you lean back to the pillow behind you.
pondering what made you feel so tired when you haven’t done much for the night, you’ve sewn back together…a pair of assassins for the night? or was it three? two austrians and…who?a french? no…no..it was winston. 
that’s right.
wait.
only you didn’t treat winston.
you bolt up, your body seemingly sobers from the realization.
john brought you here in exchange for his freedom. 
you look around to see some sort of presence in the room but with the darkness it was hard to tell, nevertheless you hopped off the bed and bolted to the wooden door nearby. no wonder the place looked familiar, only the marquis would have a place as frivolous as this.
you need to leave right now. your hand reaches for the door until you find your body being slammed on the floor. a groan leaves your throat, in pain you massage your forehead and look around.
oh goodness.
a gasp leaves your mouth when you see a chain wrapped around your ankle, you inspect your foot before tracing the lines of chains, which were sourced on the thick foot of the bed you were on.
you tug it to check its strength and to see how long it actually goes. it was long enough to walk around the room but not long enough to reach the door. this is basically your fully furnished torture chamber. 
fuck. fuck. fuck.
a loud creak echoes through the room.
you really hate how things are right now.
he’s going to kill you. kill you for leaving him, how you easily made him look humiliated for being abandoned.
feeling your knees weaken you sit back on the bed and your hands shake in trepidation. the marquis’ simple presence made you scared of him, you felt tears falling down once again and you lowered your head, not wanting to look weak right now.
his footsteps are heard through the room, the door loudly closes shut, a thud echoing. he doesn’t say a word.
you feel everything leave your body. hope,freedom and life mostly.
he walks up to you until you see his shoes on the floor, a blurry sight entering your eyes due to the tears, he touches you, tilting your chin upwards and you do everything not to flinch. was he going to snap your neck?
you look at him and he still looks the same, slightly more mature.
but the same man you met a few years ago, if you jumped back into your rose tinted glasses, you’d probably see the vincent you cherished at some point if you weren’t so frightened right now.
he inspects you, his eyes wandering through your face. searching for something that’s supposed to be there, his lips part almost as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it.
“i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” apologies spill out of your lips, wanting to take the chance of saving yourself, “i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you cry. your hand reaches up to his hand that held your chin and you grip it for mercy, his hold on you weakens.
he doesn’t say anything and leans forward to you. you need him to say something, anything, whether it meant he’d simply say he wants yuu dead.
“please forgive me, just please don’t kil-“ he cuts you off.
with a kiss.
not a firm one but a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.
he takes your hands into his and fiddles with it, trying to find his place in them just like before, he halts the kiss and leans towards your face. the man right in front of you wasn’t the marquis, it was vincent. 
your vincent.
the one with soft eyes looking at you with relief and adoration. the gaze that looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, he wipes the tears on your cheeks and the next thing he says dissolves all sense of worry out of you.
“i could never hurt you.” he whispers.
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author’s note: this kinda doesn’t make sense bc im so braindead rn to expand things but basically vincent finds medic!reader through winston and in exchange for the continental and john’s freedom, john brings medic!reader back to vincent. so basically she got ratted out lolz. this would work better if i made a vincent pov would be fun but i have a bunch of prompts to work on…(tempting) + he literally chained her down to him (hshshsh marriage allegory…) i kinda want to be funky dynamic of obsessed man + “ngl what’s wrong with this guy but i vibe with it” woman
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