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#oh so this was a big cry that needed to be expressed in some ways to really come out uh
britneyshakespeare · 5 days
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you know at the end of the day today i was chatting w some other paras. i was a special ed para for a seventh grader today that's what i did. and the last block for them is just learning center and it's chill and it's friday and some of the kids were making pizza and no one was really doing anything or stressed or bothered so the kids and the adults just have various little shooting-the-breeze sessions although im usually not that active in these bc Im Shy, And A Substitute so i feel very out of place a lot of the time. but anyway i had never really talked much w either of the paras i was with today and we struck up a conversation about some stuff and one of them says to me "you know just so you know i LOVE your hair" and she turns to the other para and she's like "isnt it gorgeous? dont you love her hair?"
and i kinda blushed and said thank you a couple of times and looked down bc that's what i do when i receive a sincere-sounding compliment unexpectedly. and then i chatted a little more before i kinda drifted out of the conversation and opened my book and after a page or two one of them asked me about what i was reading (it's Song of the Cell: An Exploration of Medicine and the New Human by Siddhartha Mukherjee if you were wondering and i started it a few days ago). so i told them a bit about it and started chatting again on the topic of reading and i guess i was just naturally smiling and the same one who complimented my hair said "look at those dimples. i just can't w you"
#made me wanna cry a little. i was like thank u mom#felt beautiful at work. who do i tell this to?#tales from diana#i have never had my dimples complimented not to my memory at least#i kinda forget i have them bc i don't. i don't like. smile naturally and get a good view of them when i look in the mirror#i dont think they show up when i dont smile candidly either? unless im forced-smiling really hard#yeah idrk what they look like i guess#i received both of these compliments with a little bit of an 'oh shucks' (blushes) attitude#i have to say. it's not that i don't get complimented on my appearance. but most of the time it doesn't sound... don't wanna say 'sincere'#it doesn't feel like. FELT. as a compliment. a lot of the time#like sometimes it feels like courtesy. and other times. it feels like#someone will mention to me that im like young and pretty but theyll say it in a 'but im not impressed' tone which is really#odd bc. it's not like i asked?#it's like in a small way it's to 'put me in my place' or address some elephant in the room#like it's an annoyance to them rather than an expression of. you know. admiration#not that i need to be admired for my appearance but that's what i mean. like it felt nice#like a lot of the time ppl will tell me im pretty it sounds either like flattery or like some kind of weird anti-flattery#they're trying to give me a big head or they assume it's already big and they wanna deflate it#yeah that was nice tho. i talked w one of those paras for a pretty long time abt art and photography#she has a children's book coming out soon too and it sounded so interesting. i liked her a lot#i also like the kid i worked w today. i had been w her before but not in like 6 months. she's a sweetie
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machidielontheway · 11 months
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i don't want to sing :(
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evilminji · 5 months
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You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?
That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.
But!!!
WHAT IF?
They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?
Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.
Riot in the streets.
Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-
Ah.
So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.
One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.
It Fiiiiine, Sam.
He's just here to Talk.
He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.
ON LIVE TELEVISION.
He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~
"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!
And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"
*drops mic*
Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.
Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.
The press secretary faints.
PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!
Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!
And Danny?
Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~
If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.
Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.
(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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samuraisharkie · 1 year
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man is it too much to want to get a hug without being the one to initiate or having to ask. like just getting a hug bc someone you’re close to knows you and knows you’re feeling bad and just wants to give you a hug?? why is that so rare
#vent#btw I hesitate to tag this as vent bc it’s a cry for fucking help#like I don’t want anything other than just. a little moment of tenderness#I just need to be held sometimes without having to go through a social qte first#I’ve been feeling so starved for like. not awkward sympathy or anything but just some irl acknowledgement that I’ve been grieving.#I’ve gotten it from like. one friend . (zazha.)#one family member (kitty).#NO one else has acknowledged my grief or initiated any comfort irl.#I mean acknowledged beyond a quick ‘oh yea sorry abt that btw :/ anyway’ halfway through a conversation#is it like. not a big deal to them so they forget?? is that it? bc I pretty clearly don’t feel the same way#I’m not even mad I’m just desperate. it’s hard for me to start the conversation sometimes. sometimes maybe I don’t want a talk just a hug.#just some expression that the people I’m close to know I’m going through something and could use comfort without me having to spell it out.#I promise y’all I’m not averse to surprise hugs when I’m going through a bad time. thats not gonna be a bad thing.#I have to start tearing up in front of people to get displays of affection or sympathy/comfort and I do NOT like that#I don’t like crying in front of people but when that’s the only way for me to get a semblance of understanding out of people.#then I’m just gonna have to deal by myself bc my body will literally suction those tears to my eyeballs unless I’m especially broken up atm#part of me wants to say I haven’t expressed enough that I need it but at the same time. my pet died. you’d think that’d be enough?#to let someone know I’m upset and could use some tenderness? I know for some people it isn’t such a big deal but like.#I was pretty openly shattered by that. and whenever I express that brokenness irl ppl get uncomfortable#I’m not even doing it in a weird way I’m just saying ‘I’m going through a lot right now. if I’m a little low energy or monotonous—#— that’s why.’#just. goddamn. i know I’m typing like im mad but im more distraught and a little hurt.#it just hurts when I have to be the one to emotionally spell everything out so whenever that’s difficult for me im just fucked#like I know those people I’m close to are going through their own shit but. goddamn. 😭#you’d think after your friend is dealing w a death you’d be able to spare SOMETHING#I’ve been meaning to schedule an appointment with my therapist that I rarely contact bc she’s Christian and maybe calling blue cross#but that takes some MAJOR emotional energy and also some time and space for me to be by myself and private in the house#which isn’t really possible#long story why the therapist is Christian and yet I haven’t found another btw. short version is finding therapists is hell#and she at the very least doesn’t impose her religion on me
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seiwas · 3 months
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₊˚⊹。 i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu
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wc: 2.4k
summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 
contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 
a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)
part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
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Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 
Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 
Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?
Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 
This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 
So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—
—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 
This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 
“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 
Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 
He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 
“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 
This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 
The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 
There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 
And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 
“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”
When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.
And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 
It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 
He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 
His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 
Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 
Other than that, home has always been your place. 
And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 
The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 
It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 
The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.
Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 
Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 
Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 
.
“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 
The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 
Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 
“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 
Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 
His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 
All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 
“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 
Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.
But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 
“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 
Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 
.
His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 
He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 
And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 
So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 
He’s never been this nervous in his life. 
The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 
What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.
So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 
You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 
“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 
The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.
“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.
His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 
“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 
You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 
“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 
Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks like dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepen. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 
This is why Atsumu loves you—
This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 
—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 
“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 
He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 
You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 
After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 
You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 
“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 
You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 
“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”
The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 
He feels like crying again. 
“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 
Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 
But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 
You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.
The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 
You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 
“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”
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thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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crheativity · 4 months
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Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?
SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?
WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!
COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!
Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.
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Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.
After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.
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Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.
As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.
(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)
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Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.
He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.
(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)
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Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.
At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.
Just like you, he hopes.
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Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.
If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.
If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?
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Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.
Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.
Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.
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Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.
He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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Etho cannot deny that in some way, the ocean is messing with his friends, and that he noticed far too late.
It targets Gem first, long before it goes after anyone else, so subtly it’s almost undetectable. Here’s the way he notices: her little boat is cute, but the mangrove wood on the trim seems old and rotten in some places, murky river water staining the paint that coats the sides. The lighthouse, when built, seems washed out, as if the color has been sucked from the stone that forms it. Etho finds this strange, but refuses to jump to conclusions- Gem is still his little sibling with the same warm smile, so he lets it be for now.
It’s really when the fishing craze begins where Etho starts having doubts about the normalcy of things. Grian is in no way an average person most of the time, but this level of dedication is new and sort of suspicious. It starts with the mending book, which is fine, since he’s decided to avoid villager trading this season. Etho comes over sometimes and jokes about the luck of the sea. Here is where it gets weird, though: when he comes over to make that joke again, Grian turns his head, oh so slowly, expression serious and eyes blank as he replies.
“The ocean will provide the book. It’s the next one, I know it.”
It takes a little more effort than it should for Etho to not turn tail and run. The tambre of his friend’s voice is off-kilter and strange, almost hollow in the way it echoes. And it’s the way he doesn’t say mending, he just says the book- Etho can’t help but feel like he isn’t fishing for enchantments anymore. The air smells of rot and slime. He swallows bile, gives a little uh-huh as a reply, and leaves as soon as he can.
Then there’s Pearl and Beef, obsessed with salmon, of all things. Pearl’s thing seems like a one-off, but Doc tells him that Beef has taken the joke about “big salmon” a little too far, claiming he’s gotten emails from them that have threatened the goat directly. Etho doesn’t really know what to make of that, or Pearl’s salmon head, or the continuous slapping of fish on noteblocks that’s driving him insane.
But he knows this: he’s never really liked fishing before, not for its intended use, anyway. It’s good to have in a death game, but not once has Etho found the monotonous motions of fishing appealing. Grian said it best himself: he used to think fishing was lame. And he did. Does. He thinks it’s lame. He thinks all of this stuff about the river and the boats and the ocean and the salmon and the rot is all really weird and not at all cool. He’s only here to make sure his friends are okay. Not to fish, because he doesn’t want to, just to keep Magic Mountain in line.
But Grian says it again: Etho walked up here and was like ‘this is lame’, now look at him! Etho, in turn, looks at his hands. When did he start fishing? Was the sun always that high in the sky? Did the ocean always sing like that? Was there always a magnetic force to the waves at the shore, pulling him closer with every lap of sea foam? Was the lighthouse always this beautiful?
No, no it wasn’t. He knows this. Something is very, very wrong. There’s something in the water that’s making his friends lose it, and there’s something supernatural that’s trying to pull him in. He needs to get out of here, back to the jungle, with its nice green grass and earthy smells-
To his right, Etho hears his death call. The bell rings, the swan sings, and the water keeps lapping at his feet. It’s too late, he knows it, in the way that his hands are gripping the fishing pole with white knuckles, in the way the lilypads seem to grow under his feet to get him closer to the great deep blue. The music continues, the serenade settling into his bones, giving him an eerie sense of calm.
In the magnetic pull of the moment, he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.
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emphistic · 16 days
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
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“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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fanfic-wonderland · 5 months
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Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}
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Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader
Word count: 2.6k
Read part two here.
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When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.
You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”
Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.
“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”
Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…
You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.
“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”
“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”
Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.
A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.
“Anything,” he says.
You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”
Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”
“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”
“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”
“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”
“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”
You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”
Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”
He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”
Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.
Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”
“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”
Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”
Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”
She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”
Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.
***
You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.
Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.
You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.
You really shouldn't have come.
The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway. 
So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”
“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.
You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”
“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”
You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care. 
That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.
The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.
You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”
You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”
“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”
Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”
Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”
“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.” 
Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”
Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.
You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.
He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.
You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away. 
Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”
You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.
You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”
A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.
“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”
Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.
You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”
His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”
You gape at him. “Coryo…”
You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”
And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.
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peach-the-owl · 3 months
Text
I make my grand return! But I also wanted to try something different from what I normally do and expand my horizons (so to speak), I hope you all enjoy 😁
Meeting Each Other
Hazbin Hotel & Child!Reader
WARNING: Themes of abuse are present in Angel Dust’s scenario, also swearing in his, I did my best to keep the characters in character but there may be some OOC moments, (if there’s any warnings I miss but should add please let me know)
(Set before the events of the show)
Hazbin Hotel:
Charlie and Vaggie
You peek out from the flaming wreckage you used as cover to hide, seeing the coast is clear you carefully step out of where you’re hiding and roam the corpse riddled streets. It reeked of death, not exactly an unfamiliar scent but not a pleasant one either. You hear something shuffle, or maybe someone? You quickly turn around but don’t see anything, now paranoia starts to creep in making you wonder if you may have exposed yourself too soon and any moment an exorcist will swoop down and finish you off. To your utter surprise that’s actually not the case when you see to woman conversing as they strolled down the street, it was so odd to you how casual they looked doing it or maybe you were just getting too used to all the violence that happened on the daily that it struck you as odd. Either way your curiosity gets the better of you and you try to sneak closer without being noticed to see what they were talking about.
“… idea… to work.” You just barely catch the one in the suit say. An idea? Wonder what it could be? You sneak closer.
“…I know… rlie, but try not... aren’t exactly going to…” You hear the one with the X over her eye say, less enthusiastic then the one in the suit. Who’s going to what? You needed to get just a little closer and… you slip and fall. The girl with the X over her eye immediately wipes around, pulling out an angelic spear, with the fire still burning around you she, for just a brief moment, looked like an exorcist ready to strike you. That was enough motivation for you to shuffle back fearfully, as you do her angered expression drops to one of guilt?
“Hello.” You jump a little at the voice, not noticing the lady in the suit had approached you. “Are you lost my little friend?” She asks. You don’t say anything, you’re not sure what to say so you just kinda stare her down. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you.” Charlie gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen as she holds her hand out to you. You weren’t sure you could trust this supposedly kind gesture of hers so instead you pick yourself up off the ground and give a small nod of acknowledgment, which she still seemed extremely happy about.
“Maybe we should go, you know before their parent? Parents? Whoever might be looking for them comes along. Besides, the kid doesn’t look like they’re much for conversation.” The X eyed one says rather bluntly.
“Or… this could be the perfect opportunity to find our first attendants!” Charlie bounces excitedly before turning back to you. “So you know me. And this amazing person is my girlfriend Vaggie.” She introduces, to which Vaggie gives a bit of an awkward wave.
“I don’t.” You finally find your voice to speak. Vaggie raises a slightly confused eyebrow while Charlie looked at you curiously.
“Don’t what?” She now kneels down to your level.
“She said something about a parent coming to look for me.” You point to Vaggie. “But I don’t have anyone looking after me, even when I was alive no one really did.” You say, crossing your arms uncomfortably. Charlie looked like she was about to cry after hearing that and the next thing you know you’re being scooped up in her arms, surprising you.
“Oh Vaggie! Can we keep them! Please?” She asks, giving big puppy dog eyes.
“Charlie…” Vaggie starts looking at your confused self. “I don’t know… maybe they should decide that for themselves.” She reasons. Charlie holds you out at arms length a less enthused and more gentle smile on her face this time.
“Well? What do you think?”
“Umm…” You stare a bit stunned by all this, not entirely sure how to process everything. You’ve been alone for so long, barely trusting people for your own safety and while part of you wanted to run here and now another was telling you to just give this a chance. “I… I wouldn’t mind… I guess.” You mumble out sheepishly. Charlie bounces around happily with you still in her arms, something you realize you’re probably going to have to get used to, while you catch a faint smile on Vaggie’s face.
“Alright. Well, if you’re staying with us, can we at least get your name kid?” She asks.
“Oh, ummm, the name’s (y/n).” You tell her, she gives you a nod and with some convincing to finally get Charlie to put you down the three of you head off to this hotel Charlie won’t stop talking about.
Angel Dust
“Get back here you little shit!!” You dash away from the Sinners chasing you, mentally slapping yourself for being a little too reckless. You couldn’t help it, the items they had looked so shiny. Having been able to manage some distance between them you quickly skid into a rather empty alleyway to hide. Taking a moment to catch your breath beside a dumpster when a side door slams open, you press yourself against said dumpster and blend in with the shadows around you. You watch as someone is literally thrown out the door another figure peering down at them.
“You think this is some fucking joke! Am I a fucking joke to you Anthony!?” The one peering out the doorway hisses.
“No, no I-I never… I would never-” The other figure sounded panicked, quickly being cut off again by the first.
“Enough! We’ll discuss this later, once we get this mess cleaned up.” With that they slam the door. You sneak a bit closer getting a good look at whoever had been left in the alley with you, their spidery features struck you as familiar, remembering some of those posters you’d see around the city promoting some adult film with a one Angel Dust. And if that’s the case and if he was so popular then he must have some cash on him, ripe for your sticky fingers to grab. This motivation in mind gets you shuffling closer staying as close to the shadows as possible to avoid detection, now all you had to do was reach over and…
“Who the fuck!!” You’re suddenly grabbed by the arm and flung to the ground, now staring up at the angry spider. “The hell? What’s a kid like you doing here?” He still looks mad just with some confusion added to the mix.
“You mean in hell, or just in general?” You question back shoving him back a bit so you could sit up.
“Don’t play cheeky with me kid, you was trying to steal from me, weren’t ya?” He narrows his eyes accusingly at you.
“Trying would imply I didn’t get anything.” You say slyly, holding up a bag of drugs. He immediately snatches it back from you.
“How the fuck did you do that!?” He seemed genuinely surprised you took something without his noticing. You shrug casually in response.
“Oi! Is someone there?!” You freeze when you realize your little stunt cost you time to get away from the Sinners you were running from. Without much time, or thought you scramble into the dumpster just hoping they didn’t see you. The footsteps thump closer and closer, halting right by your hiding spot.
“Well well, if it ain’t the beauty of the Angel Dust themselves.” Shit, you forgot Angel Dust was right there, stupid!
“It is, and what can I do for such strong capable folk like yourselves?” You’re gonna be ratted out for sure.
“Uhh- *ahem* Right, we’s looking for a kid, about yay big and kind of stupid. Like a real piece of shit.” Rude much, if anything they’re the stupid ones.
“Is that so? And what exactly are ya gonna do when you catch them?”
“Oh nothing really, we’s just gonna teach them a lesson, right boys.” A small cheer of “yeah’s” ring from the group. This was it, you were doomed and all because you just-
“I think I saw ‘em run that way and turned left.” You sit there stunned as the footsteps disappear into the distance, unsure if what just happened really just happened. “Coast is clear kid, you can come out of there, hehe cum.” He chuckles at his own unintentional joke. Slowly you peek out from the dumpster looking around to be extra sure that gang was gone before crawling out entirely.
“You… you didn’t rat me out?” You look at him genuinely puzzled, he just shrugs. “Why?” He’s quiet for a long moment before answering.
“Well… why don’t we just say you owe me now.” He says, crossing his arms and looking away from you.
“Oh, so you want my soul for something.” You huff.
“As nice as that would be, I was thinkin’ more a fair trade.”
“Like what?” You we’re getting very confused and curious as to what was on his mind.
“I use my ravishingly good looks and smooth talk to get you out of trouble, and you use those little skills of yours to snag me some of that good nose candy.” You think on this for a second, letting his words sink in and it wasn’t the worst situation to be in, all things considered.
“Alright! You got yourself a deal.” You shake each other’s hands, a thread like a spiders web wraps around your hand while a wispy one wraps around his, sealing your deal together. You both blink in surprise at this. “Did you that was gonna happen?” You ask him as you pull away.
“Nope… eh, I’m sure it’s fine.” He brushes off nonchalantly. His calm demeanour quickly shifts to to fear when the door open once more.
“Angel I’m so sorry for how I yelled at you earlier. I didn’t mean it, honest, it’s just been so stressful today. You understand, don’t you?” The pimp says in a sickly sweet voice.
“I uhh…” Angel takes a small look over his shoulder a second to see his own shadow give him a quick wink then disappear into the darkness of the alleyway. “Of course…” He shakes himself off and with a small second of hesitance, re-enters the studio.
Alastor
The streets were quiet and the sky was darker then normal as you kept a decent pace behind the odd man with the strange static noise coming off of him. He’d appeared not too long ago seemingly minding his own business, no one bothering to look twice at him but you found him interesting. After all he basically just got here and already he’s strolling around with the confidence like he owned the place. He turns and without thinking you follow, only to end up staring down the dead end street at nothing. The static sound fills your ears loudly, you quickly cover them and tilt your head up to see the looming figure grinning back at you.
“You seem lost my little friend! T̷͈̜̑o̶͈͊̌ ̸͔͂̎w̵̫̠̕ḣ̴̗̋a̵̐͜ţ̵̗̊́ ̴̣̯̈́d̷̛̪ȍ̷̘ ̷͉͚̍̓Ǐ̶̬ ̴̠̦̉̄o̸͉̍̔w̶̧̟̃é̸͎̻̆ ̸͉̎t̸͇̀̂ͅh̷̥͝ê̶͕̞ ̷̠̍̅p̴̢̓l̴̨̹̑͒ẻ̷̮̅a̷͔͛͊ş̸̾ȕ̷̩͍r̶̹̔e̸̮̬̓ ̵̱̼͌͗ó̴̧͉̈́f̷̡̬̓̓ ̷̰̝͒̀y̴͚̪͘͝o̵̙͋ǔ̵͙ ̶̙̇̂͜f̵̧̪̓ö̶͉́ͅl̶̢̮̅̌l̶̝͂͘ͅo̵̗̳͌̂ŵ̷͓͓̽i̷̧̛̼̾n̶̹̝̔̈g̷̡̡̿ ̴̤͝m̶̩̊̓è̷̹̭?̷̩̻͂͠” The grin never falters as his tone lowers leaving an uneasy feeling in your gut.
“Umm… c-curiosity?” You say shakily.
“Well why didn’t you just say so! If I’d known I already be paraded by fans I’d have given a better welcome!” He laughs jovially. “Though…” He leans down to get a closer look at you. “You don’t appear as someone who’s well versed in the art of radio.” He raises an amused eyebrow at you.
“Oh… umm… I…” You struggle to think of a good excuse, still new to the whole radio stuff. “I am aware of them.” He straightens himself up, still holding a look of amusement on you, then a look of realization crosses his ever smiling face.
“Oh ho! Where have my manners gone? The name’s Alastor, my fine little friend. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He introduces himself.
“Uhhh, my name’s (y/n).” You greet back.
“Hmmm, so tell me. What really pulled you to follow me?” Alastor hums in thought, being slightly less threatening then earlier.
“You walk with a lot of confidence for someone who’s only been here for about a week. I was curious for why.” You confess.
“Is that all? Haha! Why it’s very simple my little friend. With confidence you hold the upper hand against your opponent no matter the situation.” He proclaims proudly. “Now then, I for one couldn’t help but notice you’re… unique attributes about you.” You look away from him nervously. “Now now, no need to feel shameful. In fact I believe you should embrace it! And I can help.”
“You can help me? How?” You knew exactly where he was going with this but played along.
“Isn’t it obvious? By giving you reason to put those skills of yours to use! And there’s no better person then I to help give you that reason.” He gleefully remarks.
“I mean… I guess.” You draw out the words as an idea forms in your head.
“So… ĭ̸̍̚͜t̴̝̫̆̊’̸̲̺̈́̚s̸̗̓͆͂͆̀̚ ̶̥̖͋͆̾̆̅̏̓ą̴̢̳̤̋̋̉̽̍͌͠ ̸͓̜̲̭̳̦̠̅͗̋̅d̶̙̾̉͗̒e̴̛̙̿͐a̴̟͗́̂̆̎ĺ̴̠̻̒ ̶̧̺̺̳̕t̵̢̰̍̿̍̈́̓͒͌h̵̢̼̰̠͕̀̔̽ę̵͖͚͕̲̓̋͠n̷̢̫̻̆͐͆ͅͅ?̵̲͗͗͒” Alastor holds out his hand to you a green aura around it as a small gust of wind whips around the two of you.
“Only if you promise me that I don’t get in trouble or harmed by anything or anyone.” You quickly say.
“Is that all?” He tilts his head curiously at you. You nod in response, he narrows his eyes at you a second or two before answering. “Cross my heart.” He says to which you then accept his handshake sealing the deal between the two of you.
There it was, a deal was made and the two of you left that dead end street. You weren’t sure what Alastor had planned but that didn’t really matter to you, all you wanted was protection and that’s exactly what you got.
As for Alastor, while not exactly looking to be someone’s “bodyguard” the pros of this deal heavily outweighed the cons so he let slide…
J̶̡̡̣͈͚͓̱̬̳͇̬̻̲̍̈́́͒̐͒u̵̟̞̞̜̲̖̹̳̇̍͊̀̽͂͜͠s̷̥͖̭̣̞͍̑̄̆̈́ţ̴͎̥̰̲͓̖̓̀͗̄̒̂̒̍̏̽͊̕͝ ̶͔̬̹͚̝̯͖̟̭̹̤̇͋͐͑̉͐t̴̡̜͕͕̠͖̗̺͓̣̫̔̓̑̍́̈̇̚͠͝ḧ̴̰͚̯̯̤͓͍̤͚͒̇̈́̆̌̉̑̚͝i̸̘̬̻̐̊̇̎̚ś̴͇̮͕̐̐̓͆̒̓̍̂͝ ̸̡̡̛̩̩̥̰͈̝͔͓̤̖́͒͛͑̆̎̓̈́̚͘͝ö̴̜̭́̀͑̾̑̕͘̕͝ṉ̸̲̥͌̀̽́̓͋̆̒͝c̷̨̨̘̱̲̰̝̟̠̏̍e̸͈̹̒̆̌̒̆…̵̡̭̙͉̱̣̄̐̈́̀̋̂. I
I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want me to continue this or add any characters. (Side note: I have a separate WIP for Helluva Boss characters coming soon (hopefully))😁
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roosterforme · 6 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 37 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley realized on the way to the lake house that he hadn't taken a vacation in years, but he already knew he was going to want to go on so many more with you and Noah. And you weren't going to let Bradley get away with an omission of precious information. In fact, you had several things to surprise him with as a result.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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The next morning while you made breakfast for yourself and your boys, you could hear Bradley on the phone in the living room. You stopped mixing up the bowl of pancake batter just in time to hear him say, "Hey Tracy, can you go ahead and finalize that updated copy of my will?" There was a short pause, and then he said, "Right, but if any assets need to be combined later, we can discuss it then. We can both come in and meet with you."
You wondered if he was talking about you, but then his voice got a little quieter at the same time Noah bounded into the kitchen. "Mommy, I don't want to go to the lake," he said, face practically crumbling into tears. 
"Why not?" you asked, setting everything aside to kneel and pull him in for a hug. "What's wrong? I thought you were so excited."
Then he started crying as he asked, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake? I don't want to see any big bears."
"Oh, sweet Noah," you whispered as you hugged him and tried not to laugh. Then it dawned on you that you actually weren't sure if there were any bears there or not. You knew it was a good three hour drive from San Diego up into the mountains, but you hadn't even considered that.
When Bradley walked into the kitchen to see you and Noah on the floor and his son in tears, he asked, "What's going on?"
You covered Noah's ears and whispered, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake?"
Bradley laughed for a few seconds, and then his expression turned contemplative. "I... actually have no idea. I'm going to go ahead and call Maverick." Then he was gone again, and you were left to try to coax Noah over to the kitchen table with the promise of some pancakes covered in melted butter. 
You were wiping his tears while the batter sizzled on the griddle. "It's okay. Daddy won't let anything bad happen to us."
"I know," he muttered, sniffling.
Bradley poked his head back into the kitchen. "It's very unlikely, especially this time of year," he said with a shrug.
"What does that mean?" Noah asked, and you were afraid the tears would be back as you flipped the pancakes.
If they wanted you to be the mom, then you were going to go ahead and be the mom here. "It means you have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? Now do you want to eat your breakfast on the red plate or the orange plate?" you asked, holding up both options. Noah pointed at the red plate, and Bradley walked in and kissed your forehead.
"Good save," he whispered. "You're a natural." He ran his hand along your tummy with a wink, and you felt yourself flush with heat. 
"You get the orange plate that nobody else wants," you told him with a breathy giggle. "Now go sit."
He did as he was told, and when you handed him his plate and a larger one with a stack of pancakes on it, he started to get one ready for Noah. "After this, I'll pack up the car and we can head out."
"Sounds good," you replied, adding a pancake to your own plate. You had discreetly packed some snacks for Noah on top of the box of items you didn't want Bradley to see, so you thought it was fine for him to pack the car. Once you were done eating, you took Noah into the living room and watched Bradley cart bag after bag and box after box out to the driveway. 
He was looking a little sweaty when he came back inside one last time. He took you by the hand and scooped Noah up as he said, "Can't forget to pack these two." He led you outside and kissed Noah all over his face while he laughed hysterically. After Noah was buckled in and reassured that you had packed him ants on logs to eat during the drive, Bradley was pulling away from the house. 
Once he was on the highway and you had started up the kid friendly playlist, he sighed. "I'm so happy you made a playlist for Noah so I don't have to listen to the Sesame Street soundtrack or something equally egregious." 
"Isn't Sesame Street from the '70s? Just like you?" It was so hard not to laugh as you asked him that. 
"Funny," he deadpanned. "I was born in 1984. You know how old I am." 
"Do I?" you asked, your voice taking on an accusatory edge as Noah asked you to hand him more snacks. 
"Mmm," Bradley hummed as he drove. You and he held hands, and you offered to drive if he got tired. "I'll be fine," he promised softly. "Why don't you just relax? It looks like Noah is about to doze off."
"Okay, Daddy." You squirmed down in your seat until your cheek was resting on his hand, and then you fell asleep, too.
-------------------------
Bradley tried his best to drive one handed up the rough trail toward the house, but he really needed two hands at this point. His right hand also happened to be asleep from the way you'd cuddled up with your head on him. "Princess," said, wiggling his fingers beneath you. "I need my hand back."
You moaned as you sat up, but when you looked out the window, you gasped. "It's beautiful here!" The early afternoon sunlight was reflecting off the lake and the mountains beyond. It was stunning, and Bradley realized it had been years since he'd taken any proper time off from work that didn't involve a day at home with Noah while he was too sick for daycare. 
"If you enjoy this weekend together, you're going to have to make sure I take some vacation time. Because I actually never do."
"Is this some sort of joke? Of course, I'm going to love this weekend! I get to spend it with my boys! And wait... are you telling me you've never taken Noah to Disneyland?"
"Never."
"Daddy!" you complained loudly. "I thought you were a good parent!"
Bradley laughed as he looked for the correct driveway. "Clearly we needed you, Baby. You make us better."
He could practically feel you preening next to him as he put on his turn signal and pulled up the long driveway. "You need to take that sweet child to Disneyland. And you need to get him a dog," you said, kissing his cheek as Bradley pulled up next to Penny's car. 
"So this has nothing to do with you wanting to go to Disneyland and you wanting to get a dog?"
"Not at all," you said, but you were smiling. "This is about what's best for the child."
"Right," he said once the engine was turned off. Then he kissed you, wrapping his hand around your neck before letting his fingers dip down into your shirt to toy with your bra strap. "Hey," he murmured against your lips. 
"Hmm," you hummed, pulling his lip between yours and nibbling softly. God he just wanted to take you inside for some uninterrupted sex, but he knew he'd have to get through the afternoon and evening first. 
"I love you," he whispered, running his fingers down to cup you through your bra. 
"Daddy?" Noah called from the backseat, and you broke the kiss immediately. 
"Yeah, Bub?" Bradley asked, his eyes still on you as you smiled at him. He couldn't seem to help himself; thoughts of diamond rings and the perfect proposal were always near the surface now. He kissed your nose and then turned to look at Noah.
"Don't let the bears come out, okay?" he asked softly, a smudge of peanut butter on his cheek. 
"I won't," he promised, and you were already climbing out of the Bronco and walking around to get Noah. Bradley was just so impressed with the way you pulled a wet wipe out of your purse to wipe Noah's hands and face before you got him out of the car. You always had everything under control in a way that he just never seemed to be able to do alone. 
"We'll be inside saying hi to everyone," you called over your shoulder, and Bradley was left to unload everything. Every time he carried bags inside the house, he could hear everyone talking and laughing. When he finally made his way into the sprawling kitchen where everyone else had congregated, Penny rushed over to give him a hug.
"Pete and I are so happy the three of you could come!" she said, giving him a tight squeeze. Amelia was chasing Noah around the room while you talked to Maverick. The house was beautiful, and he finally felt relaxed. 
"Thanks for inviting us," he replied as Maverick kissed your cheek and headed toward Bradley. 
"Grab your sunglasses. It's time to test out the boat."
"Boat?" Bradley asked. And about five minutes later, he was holding on tight to the side of a speedboat as Maverick drove it around the lake. 
"This thing is fast!" Bradley shouted over the engine. The man was addicted to pushing things to the limit, and Bradley would have to make sure he was driving the boat if Noah came with them next time. 
Maverick finally eased off the throttle once they were out in the middle of the lake, and Bradley was able to let go of his death grip on the boat. "Grab a beer," Maverick said, gesturing to the small cooler he brought along. "So, tell me, Bradley, you going to make that girl a permanent fixture?"
Bradley laughed as he opened a can and took a sip. "The thing is, she's pretty much been a permanent fixture since the beginning, at least as far as Noah is concerned."
Maverick nodded and opened his own beer. "I heard him calling her his mom."
"Yeah," Bradley replied, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as his brow creased. "I encouraged that. Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Like ever. But that felt right."
"Well, if you're keeping her around, and you plan on marrying her, then she really is his mom."
Bradley thought better than to mention his updated will, but he nodded. "Been thinking about it a lot, actually. I'm going to propose soon. In a few more weeks, we will have known each other for six months. Noah and I are sure about her, and that seems like a good amount of time to wait before buying a ring."
"That sounds like a very solid plan."
Bradley smiled at his dad's best friend. "Don't you dare tell Penny. She talks too much," Bradley warned.
"I won't."
"I want to surprise her and make everything perfect." He already had some ideas, but in his mind, you deserved perfection. You'd put up with just being his babysitter for way too long while he tried to convince himself you weren't the one for him. And you'd dealt with Meredith like you would have protected Noah with your life. You'd be the best mom, and Bradley wanted you to be his wife. He was thirty seven now. He knew you were the one. It was time. 
Luckily, he was able to convince Maverick to let him drive the boat back to the dock, and he took things at a much slower pace. He passed a few other people out boating on the way back and decided he'd bring you and Noah out with him tomorrow or on Sunday when it was supposed to be even warmer. 
On the walk back up to the house, Bradley's steps slowed as he asked, "Were those lights hanging up like that before?"
Maverick looked at the strings of sloppily hung twinkle lights all over the porch and scratched his chin. "I don't think so?"
"This was definitely not here earlier," Bradley remarked when he opened the front door to reveal an eight foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the living room. It looked like someone had thrown strands of lights at it from across the room, and there was Christmas music playing. "What the hell?"
"Happy birthday!" 
Bradley and Maverick both turned toward the kitchen where Noah was sitting on the island and the three women were standing. You looked absolutely delighted with everything that was going on as you waved them in. 
"What's going on, Baby?" he asked as you walked over and took him by the hand. 
"It's your birthday party! Mav's too!"
"Why is everything decorated for Christmas?" he asked with a laugh, because you, Penny and Amelia clearly thought this was normal. And Noah was giggling as he colored in a Christmas coloring book.
"It's Christmas in July!" you explained, still leaving so many unanswered questions. 
"Apparently the house is a popular holiday rental," Penny added as Mav hugged her. "And all of the Christmas decorations were already here, so we just rolled with it."
Bradley pulled you tight to him, careful to keep his hands on only the most appropriate of body parts. "My birthday was a month ago. When I was deployed."
"Yeah, thanks for letting me know," you said sarcastically, lightly smacking his cheek before kissing it and pushing your fingers into his hair. "I had no idea until I saw your driver's license out last week. You deprived yourself of a proper party, so now you get Christmas in July."
"And Maverick's birthday is in August," Bradley added with a huge smile.
"We don't play by the rules," Amelia said. "We have Christmas cookies to decorate and a movie to watch."
So Bradley spent the evening of what actually wasn't his thirty seventh birthday licking frosting off your cheek while you laughed and then holding Noah during the movie Elf. It seemed absolutely ridiculous as the oversize French doors were open to let in the summer air and the sounds of crickets chirping. It was also somehow exactly perfect, and it reminded him that he was allowed to have all these things in his life now that you were there. You'd probably want to do things like celebrate his birthday every year and decorate the house. And Noah would get to benefit from all of it. 
"I want another birthday movie," Noah said as he yawned uncontrollably. 
"Not tonight," Bradley told him as he carried him to the small bedroom where you'd already unpacked his things for the weekend. He changed Noah into pajamas and read the dinosaur book you'd left out on the dresser, and pretty soon his son was sound asleep. 
It wasn't too late yet; Bradley could still hear the others out in the main living space, but he decided to see if you'd gone to the bedroom already. "Princess?" he called as he walked into the pretty wood paneled room that had a view of the lake and the last bits of purple sky as it got darker. Then you came strolling out of the en suite bathroom in nothing but a tiny lace bra and matching panties. 
"Are you ready for your birthday present?" you asked sweetly, draping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips. 
"Oh, I like my birthday present," he murmured as he ran his hands down your back to cup your ass. 
You kissed along his neck and whispered, "You could have had some special treatment sooner if you told me when your birthday was, Daddy."
He grunted, both from the feel of your lips on his skin and because he knew you'd find out when it was eventually. "I just feel a little self-conscious sometimes about my age."
Your mouth paused, and then you were looking up at him like you were embarrassed. "But I tease you all the time."
"I know," he replied right away. "I know, and I love it when you do. It's not that." You combed your fingers through his hair and gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm just more than twelve years older than you. Sometimes it seems like a lot."
"That doesn't matter at all," you replied, holding eye contact with him. "In fact, I think I like it more this way. It's so much better being with someone who is serious about me and has his life together." One hand trailed down to his chest as you added, "It's almost flattering, the fact that you love me."
"I do," he said, watching your hand slip lower down his body. "I love you."
You smiled softly as your hand rested on the fly of his pants. "Happy birthday." You undid the front of his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his underwear. He was semi hard and getting harder by the second as you bit your lip and sank down to your knees. And then you opened your mouth so Bradley could set his cock right there on your glossy bottom lip.
"That looks pretty," he muttered, already breathing harder as you ran your tongue along his tip. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently, eyes bright and cheeks hollow. His cock was throbbing for you now, but he was enjoying the way you weren't taking him deep yet.
He kept his hands soft on your face, stroking his thumb along your chin and jaw. And then you reached up with both hands and wrapped them around his base as you withdrew him and kissed along his shaft. "I love you, Daddy." Then you took him deep in one go until you were gagging and he was seeing stars. His hands were rougher now at the back of your head, holding you in place while he grunted and groaned. 
When you moaned around him, he released his grip on your head, and you popped him out of your mouth with a little gasp, and some strings of saliva dripped down to your chest. "More?" you asked, and he just nodded as you took him deep over and over again. Every time you gagged, you let him push a little harder, and you had tears in your eyes as you pulled him free and abruptly stood to kiss him.
Your tongue was in his mouth, and Bradley's hands gripped your ass as you ground against him. "Mmm, Bradley," you whined. "Ready for your present?"
He tucked his fingers inside your lace underwear and teased at your holes as your eyes went a little wider. "Is this not my present right here?" he grunted, trying to decide how he wanted to get off.
You shook your head in a jerky motion and whispered, "Not exactly..." Your voice was breathless and broken as you said, "If you think we can financially support a baby, and it's what you really want, then I'll let you flush my birth control down the toilet."
Bradley was gaping at you. A baby. With you. No more birth control. "Are you serious right now?"
"Yes," you replied. "I'm ovulating and I skipped my pill yesterday, and I want you to fuck a baby into me."
Bradley tipped his head back and moaned at how perfect that sounded coming from you. "Where are the pills?" he asked. 
"Bathroom counter," you replied, and he kissed you so hard you were clinging to him.
Bradley hauled you into the bathroom with him where he popped each remaining pill out of the packaging with unsteady fingers and his erection hanging out of his jeans. You were squeezing your thighs together and whining softly as he swept them into the toilet and flushed it before he rounded on you. 
"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he asked, voice dark and rough. 
"Yes."
"Then I'll fuck a baby into you." He picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, and Bradley carried you to the bed. He set you down gently on your back and marveled at how perfect you looked for him. You were playing with your tits and already getting a little loud as you watched him get undressed. 
And then he was on top of you, his cock aching to be inside you. He just kept thinking about you all pregnant and swollen as he pushed the lace covering your perfect pussy to the side and thrust into you hard and sure.
"Bradley!" you nearly screamed, scrambling beneath him and clawing at his shoulders. But he didn't stop the steady powerful thrusts that pushed you down into the mattress. He had to bring one big hand up to cover your mouth as he grunted.
"Keep quiet, Baby. Unless you want everyone to know how good it feels when I try to knock you up."
You nodded and moaned against his palm, but he just fucked you harder. Your legs were shaking as you spread them wider for him, and your fingers were tangled in the bedding. When your tits bounced free from that tiny bra, Bradley put his mouth on you, pulling your nipples gently one at a time. 
Soft squeaking noises and moans escaped you as he pressed his lips to your ear. "I'm gonna cum. You always make me cum. You always give me everything, don't you? Don't you, Princess? I'm gonna give you a ring, and you'll give us a baby. I'll give you anything."
You were shaking all over as he rammed deep and spilled himself inside you. He was panting hard when he slipped his hand away from your mouth, and then your lips were on his in the sweetest kisses. 
"I'm sorry I was rough," he whispered, running his fingers along your skin. "You okay?"
"I'm so good, Daddy. That was hot. I hope you liked your birthday present."
Bradley eased his body away from yours a few inches and gazed down to where you and he were still so perfectly connected. "Not sure if you or the unprotected sex was the actual gift, but either way, I liked my birthday present a lot."
You giggled as he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, keeping you close. "You said something about a ring."
"Did I?" he mumbled. He knew he was rambling while he fucked you, but he wasn't sure exactly what he'd been saying. Apparently it was a lot. 
"Mmhmm," you hummed as he ran his fingers along your lace bra, but you didn't push for more. "So what's on the agenda for the rest of the weekend? And when are you going to get us a dog? And when are we taking Noah to Disneyland?"
Bradley narrowed his eyes at you playfully. "Boating and barbecues for the rest of the weekend. And as for the dog and Disneyland? Just let me enjoy my fake Christmas-birthday in peace. Because I'm sure it will be my last one without a dog who is constantly bugging me to let it outside or to play with it."
You settled down on top of him, placing a kiss to his pecs with a smirk. "That's absolutely correct. You just enjoy yourself while you still can."
--------------------------
When Bradley kissed you the next morning and whispered, "I'll be back. Going out to buy fishing bait with Noah and Mav," you just grunted in response. The sun was barely up, and as you rolled over, you could feel the delicious aftermath of the way Bradley had fucked you so hard. You were tired and a little sore in all the right places. Very carefully, you extracted yourself from the bed and padded along the floor to the bathroom. 
He had flushed your birth control instantly, and you giggled just thinking about it. There was no turning back now, and you were so excited. You already had a family, and like Bradley, the idea of adding to it was enough to make you melt inside. 
Since you didn't have to rush to get Noah ready, you took your time with your hair and makeup even though you were just going out on the lake for the day. You changed into your purple bikini and slipped your purple sundress over it, both of which you had purchased using your credit card. 
When you made your way out to the kitchen, Penny was assembling sandwiches, and you could tell she was wearing her bathing suit, too. "Where's Amelia?" you asked, washing your hands so you could help her.  
"She's a teenager," Penny replied with a laugh. "She sleeps until noon. You'll see one day when Noah is older."
You pressed your lips together, because you weren't so far removed from those years yourself. But you also felt butterflies in your tummy as you thought about the fact that Penny stated so confidently that you'd be there when Noah was older. And now you were hoping you'd be there with Bradley for more than one teenage kid.
"He's so sweet," you said as you cut the crust off one of the sandwiches for Noah. "Don't remind me that he'll be a surly teenager one day."
Penny eyed you carefully. "You'll handle it well. You already do. I still can't believe you started out as the babysitter, while Bradley was delusionally going on dates with other women. And I can't believe I didn't notice the way he looked at you at first."
You ducked your head. "I didn't notice for a few weeks myself. I just knew I was already attached to the two of them."
"We're back!" Bradley called out, carrying Noah into the kitchen. And he was immediately looking at you just like he always did, and you couldn't help but smile. 
"And we have worms!" Noah said, holding onto a little styrofoam container. 
"And more beer," Maverick added as he set two six packs down on the counter.
"Well we have sandwiches and ants on logs and lemonade and kisses," you said, taking the worm container from Noah and kissing his cheek and then Bradley's. 
Amelia finally emerged from her bedroom as Noah started whining that he wanted to go on the boat and go fishing. "I'll take him down to the marina now so he can look at the water," Bradley said, but you shook your head.
"I'll take him. You help carry the coolers," you said, taking Noah by the hand and leading him past the Christmas tree. "We'll meet you all down there."
You grabbed your tote bag which was filled with coloring books and other activities for Noah, and then you and he walked down toward the boats while you sang his favorite dinosaur song together. And then you realized you didn't actually know which boat was yours for the weekend, so you led Noah out onto the long dock to wait for the others. 
"Make sure you hold my hand. The water is really deep here," you reminded him as he peeked over the side to look into the water.
"Where are the fish?" he asked as he looked up at you. At least he was no longer asking about the bears. 
"I think the fish are out in the middle of the lake," you told him. 
"Well, how do we catch them? With our hands?"
"Oh, sweet Noah, I love you so much. The boat has fishing rods."
"What does that mean?" he asked, still looking down into the water. 
You looked around at the boats docked in the slips and pointed to one behind you. "Fishing rods are those long things sticking up into the air on that boat. Come look." You led Noah down the narrower wooden dock between two large boats so he could see what you were talking about, and that's when you saw a man about Bradley's age looking down at you and Noah.
"Hi there," he said with a wink as he looked you up and down. And now you felt like your cute little dress was nonexistent as you awkwardly stood there looking up at him.
"We were just checking out your fishing rod," you told him, but he wasn't looking at Noah at all as he grinned. And you realized that it sounded like you were talking about his penis, and you wished you could just disappear. 
He jumped down onto the dock with a laugh. "Oh yeah? I'll let you touch it if you want."
"No thanks," you replied with a grimace. You turned to leave, your hand still gripping Noah's, but the man headed you off. And now you were looking around for the others, because he was blocking the narrow path with his body.
"Now just hang on a minute," he said, pulling his sunglasses off, presumably so he could see you better. "You look beautiful. What do they call you?"
Noah looked up at him and said, "She's my Daddy's Princess."
The man was finally looking down at Noah, and you didn't like that either. So you mumbled something as your heart pounded, and you shoved past him, making sure Noah didn't walk too close to the edge of the dock. He kept calling out to you as you walked along a different part of the pier, but a moment later you could see Bradley walking down in the distance holding one end of a long cooler and sipping a beer.
"There's Daddy and Mav," Noah said, and you picked him up to rush in that direction. 
"Let's go get him." They were setting the cooler down next to a boat that was smaller than the other one with the huge fishing rods, and thankfully it was in the other direction as well. 
"Hey, Bub!" Bradley called out, and when you got closer, he took his son from your arms as you were slightly out of breath. 
"We didn't know which boat to go to," you told him.
"It's this little white one," he said, kissing your cheek. "You look beautiful."
"That's what the other man said," Noah told him.
Bradley's brow creased instantly. "What other man?" he asked, looking around everywhere. 
"It was nothing," you said, but Noah pointed toward the other boat immediately. 
"In the big, blue boat. Mommy was looking at his fishing rod, and he told her she was beautiful, and I said she's my Daddy's Princess."
Bradley kissed his cheek, and said, "Good job, Noah. She's your Mommy and my Princess." He set Noah down inside the boat where Maverick immediately started getting his life jacket buckled before he helped Penny and Amelia onboard as well.
But Bradley had one of his big hands on your hip as he slid his aviators down on his nose and smirked. "You were looking at a man's fishing rod?" he asked softly, an edge of annoyed humor in his tone.
"Oh, come on," you said, rolling your eyes and laughing. "I wanted Noah to see what a fishing rod looks like, and there were a bunch lined up on that boat."
Bradley nodded and kissed your forehead. "We've got some fishing rods on this boat, and I have a special one just for you."
You bit your lip and tried not to laugh. When Bradley said it, you absolutely wanted to learn more. When that other guy said it, you wanted to jump in the water and try to swim back to San Diego. "Really, Daddy?" you asked in your most eager voice. "When can I try it out?" 
He groaned softly and cupped your face, kissing you softly as he said, "Try to behave for a couple of hours, and it's all yours."
---------------------------------
Welcome! We are in our baby making era now! Even more lake house goodness coming soon! Also, if Noah sees a bear, he will never forgive Bradley and Princess. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 38
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
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bluemari23 · 27 days
Text
don't wanna cry || choi seungcheol
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summary: you had been ignored and neglected again, on the night of your soul bond anniversary. you were tired and felt defeated. and it took just that for your soulmate to snap out of his funk and remind you of why you were soulmates.
pairing: choi seungcheol x reader
genre: soulmates, soul bonds, soulmarks, angst, major angst
warnings: reader feels neglected, mentions of past issues, minor mention of death, cheol messes up bad and tries to fix it
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
---------------------------
It had been the fourth time the boys had run through the dance, Hoshi demanding they get it perfect once before leaving for the night. This specific dance had been trouble for some of the boys, different sections needing tweaking before Hoshi would give the okay. 
You were supposed to be going out to dinner with your soulmate; it was the anniversary of when you met and your soulbond kicked in. Seungcheol said he made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, and to dress nice. But when time passed, and it got closer to the time you were supposed to be ready and he still wasn’t home, you got worried. 
So, you got ready and went to the company, and found your soulmate and his band still practicing. 
“Oh goodness, baby! I didn’t even realize. I’m so sorry. I can’t leave until we get this dance right.” Seungcheol had run up to you, your outfit earning you a few teasing whistles from the boys and them earning a scowl from their leader. 
You sighed inside, knowing how dedicated your soulmate was to his group, but you couldn’t help the neglect you had been feeling lately. Tour season was coming up, and Seungcheol was just coming off from an injury. You knew he felt compelled to do his best for his group and for carat’s but sometimes you felt like you didn’t fit into the fold.
“It’s okay, Cheol. I’ll wait.” And you did, you sat in one of the chairs off to the side and watched as they practiced the choreography again and again. 
Time passed and you missed your reservation, you realized as you looked at your phone, checking the time. Your home screen a picture of you and Cheol, a big smile on your face as he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek. It was from your first date, a couple months after you found each other and his name appeared on your forearm in gold. 
You knew that Seungcheol was an idol, but you still couldn’t help but to feel selfish for wanting to be a part of his life; wanting him to spend time with you instead of staying up, for him to come home and instead falling asleep after midnight. You wanted him to make an effort to spend time with you instead of you staying around and waiting for him. 
You were soulmates but you felt more like a roommate. 
“Hey Cheolie, I think I’m gonna head back home.” You finally gave up; it was a little after ten pm and your reservation was scheduled for six pm. You had been here for hours and he hadn’t even glanced your way.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I—I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Seungcheol said the words he said every time, and you wanted to nod along to his words like every time, smiling softly at his empty promises, but you didn’t have the energy to this time. 
“I uhm, think I might go spend the weekend at my friend’s. She’s been wanting to uhm catch up. Don’t wait up.” You couldn’t help but sound defeated, not even giving your soulmate a smile as you spoke. You were tired. 
“Goodbye boys!” You yelled out looking past Seungcheol and waved goodbye to the boys before leaving, not acknowledging him. 
You couldn’t hide the tears you felt falling as you wondered if soulmates always ended up together. 
-*-*-
Seungcheol felt stunned, your actions and expressions making him wonder what happened. He noticed the tired expression on your face and how defeated you sounded and it had him wondering what he did. 
“Hey, is Y/n okay?” Joshua walked up to him as Hoshi called a break, obviously knowing something was going on. 
“I—I don’t know?” Seungcheol was confused, his eyes still watching the door you just walked out of. 
“Well, when was the last time you two talked?” Seungcheol’s mind tried coming up with any recent moment of just the two of you, but he couldn’t and Joshua could tell. 
“Cheol, do you remember what you planned tonight?” He asked again and grew a little annoyed at how clueless his leader was when he didn’t answer.
“Look, I understand that you want to jump right back into everything, but that doesn’t mean you neglect your soulmate. Tonight was your soul anniversary and instead of spending it with your soulmate, who was dressed so nice and pretty for you, she had to sit and watch us practice for five hours.” Joshua laid it down for him. 
Seungcheol couldn’t believe how bad he let things get. You had been through a lot this year, you both have. You lost your mom only a couple months back, right before his ACL tear, and you took care of him through the surgery and recovery. You had to travel home alone for the funeral because he was advised not to fly. You had done so much for him and he couldn’t even give you the time of day recently? 
What kind of soulmate was he? 
He knew he needed to make it up to you, and change. He needed to show you how much he loved and appreciated you. He needed to show you why you were meant to be together. He needed to be treating you like a goddess that needed worshipping.
He looked down at his watch and back up to Joshua before running out of the room, hoping to catch you at the apartment before you left. 
And he had just barely made it, opening the door to see you picking up your dufflebag. 
“Baby! Please wait.” He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure. 
You couldn’t look him in the eye, not wanting to in case you accepted his blank words again. You couldn’t keep doing that to yourself. 
“Y/n, please. I know I have been an ass lately. I’ve been such a bad soulmate to you.” You weren’t expecting his words and looked up at him, shocked. 
“I’ve been neglecting the most important person in the world to me, and it stops now. I didn’t realize what I was doing, I just… I just grew too complacent knowing you would always be there. I pushed myself wanting to be better for carats and I ignored who I should really be pushing myself to be better for.” 
You both had tears in your eyes now. Seungcheol kept stepping forward until he was right in front of you, your bag now on the floor as he held your hands in his, holding them to his chest. 
“I love you so much and sometimes I don’t know how to show it.” You opened your mouth to speak but he shook his head. 
“No, please, I—I will do better, I will treat you like the princess you are. I can’t lose you.” You could see something changed in the way he looks at you. How he holds you. He hasn’t held you like this in a while. 
“I—one last chance, Cheol. I—I can’t keep going and just hope you look at me once when you get home. I need you to make me a priority too, Cheol. I can’t keep wondering if you truly want me or not.” You finally tell him how you feel, trying not to hold back once you see the tears start falling down his cheeks. 
“You thought I didn’t want you?” He was heartbroken. He didn’t realize he had let things get this bad. His own soulmate thought he didn’t want her. 
His hands moved up to hold and caress your cheeks, taking a couple of seconds before he surged forward, capturing your lips in his. The taste of your salty tears on his tongue as he pulled back. 
“Of course I want you. I will always want you.” He pulled you into his arms, unable to hold back now. 
“I’m never going to let you go. You’re stuck with me forever and I will spend that forever worshipping you and never letting you go without knowing I want you and love you.” You let out a sob at his words, not knowing how much you needed this moment, his touch and reassurance. 
“Now, you sit down and keep looking like your beautiful self, and I’m going to make us an amazing dinner, with candles and rose petals and everything.” Seungcheol made himself busy, knowing how much you believe that actions speak louder than words. 
You had gone through a flurry of emotions tonight but couldn’t help but to still love the sight of you goofy and sometimes slow, soulmate as he begins to season the steak you had in the fridge, your favorite vegetable to the side as moves around the kitchen.
Relationships were always about communication, but sometimes actions truly did speak louder than words. 
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tojivu · 4 months
Text
nightmares ⋆ nanami kento
an. my finals start in june i'm gonna explode yall
cw. sfw. gn!reader. kento has nightmares and he needs you
playing. oh my god by fog lake.
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nanami's been getting more sleep ever since he left jujutsu tech and that shitty nine to five he used to slave at every damn day — along with the fact that he's able to spend more time with you. he likes to say that it helps him sleep, having you within arms reach (something that was extremely rare in the past, considering he had no time to rest).
kento thinks you resemble closely to a human sized pillow, and he often treats you as such. his arms are wrapped around your frame, one of his legs laying on top of yours — his chest rises and falls slowly, small snores leaving his lips — and you're thankful, very thankful; nanami was never able to sleep this soundly when you two lived in tokyo.
you try your best to push his heavy weighted figure away: you groan and complain that he's too big to be sharing this bed with you and that he should be sleeping on the floor instead. yet, you welcome him with open arms every night — pressing kisses to his forehead and running your fingers through his blonde hair.
you'd rather clingy and sleepy nanami who uses you as a personal bolster pillow in the night than sleepless nanami who locks himself away in his office, or exhausted nanami who drags his feet through the entrance of your home with bloodied limbs. it broke your heart more times than you could really count, seeing kento that way.
nanami kento saw his life flash before his eyes in shibuya, and all he could really pray for was to make it out alive so he could see you one last time — even if it were just for a few minutes. he clung desperately onto the last bit of energy and will he had in hopes of making it out alive; even if he was mutilated to a point beyond recognition, he needed to be with you. that was the only way he could let himself go — he would crawl back to your home if it meant he could kiss you one last time.
he never told you how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even come back at all: so you waited anxiously, refreshing news pages and watching the television every night for some sort of good. any sort of indication kento was okay.
he doesn't return home. you only see him when you rush down to the hospital they take him to — barely conscious, holding on to hope he didn't know he still had. nanami regains his full consciousness in the weeks following, the first thing he says being that he's done.
yes, nanami didn't want to risk it. never again.
it's 2 in the morning and you're unable to sleep, nanami's groans and sudden flinches are keeping you up.
"ken?"
the expression on his face is horrific — you feel the guilt wash over you like a wave, high and then crashing; so your fingers find his arms and you try your very best to shake the man awake.
your husband wakes up with a whimper; tired eyes almost brimming with tears at the fact that he is awake and you are real. his mouth is sealed, unable to utter a word, but the way his lips tremble tells you everything he cannot say.
"are you—"
soon, calloused fingers are gripping the flesh of your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. a nightmare, you can already tell: his hands feel clammy and his breathing is laboured.
"ken," you whisper. "'s okay. i'm here."
he sucks air through his teeth, trying to catch his breath. his body shudders at your touch as you graze over his skin — tracing circles on his bare back, your lips on his forehead. kento feels like he's about to cry, but he's not sure from what: at the fact that he had the worst dream of his life, or the fact that he's not dead and you're still here.
"'m s-sorry," he mutters. his voice is strained, still that deep and low tone that you're familiar with — but your heart still breaks as he apologises. "i'm sorry for waking you."
"don't be sorry," you comb your fingers through his hair using your free hand. "you know i don't mind it."
he sniffles and you yearn to hold him even tighter, but you think he would suffer broken ribs if you went through with that; so you settle for his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around his back.
"love you," nanami mumbles, voice getting softer and his grip looser — he feels his heart calm and his mind empty when you touch and hold him just like this. "i love you so much."
nanami wanted to be your protector. he hoped he would be for the remainder of his life — he likes to think he's doing a decent job at it now — but sometimes, it feels as though you are his; you fit awfully well to the title.
he supposes that's why he sleeps longer with you in the same bed as him; it's a peaceful thing knowing you're next to him if he has another bad dream, or if he feels cold and needs your warmth — or if he just wants to lay with you.
"i love you more, ken," you lulled, the tips of your fingernails scratching the skin of his trapezius; he recognises the heart shapes you trace on him. "get some rest."
"okay," he hums, his nose poking at your collarbones — his lips slowly leaving trails of kisses along them. "goodnight, darling."
your lips curl into a smile almost instinctively and you think it's embarassing, but it's much too dark for kento to see you blush at the name he calls you. you're thankful.
"goodnight, baby."
he's thankful that it's close to pitch dark, as well — kento thinks you can't see the smile he has on his face — but what he doesn't realise that you can feel him on your skin; feel the way his cheeks puff and his lips form the small smile you are so familiar with.
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090124 — happy new years Tartaglieo fandom my gcse's are upcoming.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
Text
Confessions
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you get a bit loopy after having your wisdom teeth pulled.
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“Sammy,” you whined as you tugged on your big brother’s sleeve. “I don’t wanna get my wisdom teeth pulled! What if it hurts?”
“Honey, they already pulled them,” Sam grinned as he opened the door to the back seat of the Impala and gestured for you to get in.
“Oh,” you frowned. “They did? Did it hurt?”
“Nope,” Sam said. “You were asleep the whole time.”
“Cool,” you giggled as Sam placed his large hand on your head and pushed you down into the car. “No!” Your demeanor changed rapidly when Sam tried to help you with your seat belt. “I don’t want it!”
When Sam persisted, you turned to Dean.
“Dean! Sammy’s being mean to me!”
“You have my permission to punch him as hard as you can,” Dean said.
“Thanks a lot!” Sam glared at Dean, even though your punch to his arm barely hurt.
“It didn’t work!” You whined.
“Ok baby, what’s Sammy doing that’s so mean?”
“He’s trying to make me wear my seatbelt!”
“He’s supposed to do that.”
“Oh,” your struggles suddenly ceased, although you still glared at Sam as he reached over and buckled you in.
“How did you do that?” Sam asked, to which Dean shrugged.
“What are you doing?” Dean wondered as Sam got in the passenger’s seat.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not gonna stay with her?” Dean gestured to you as you pulled your seatbelt out all the way just so you could watch it zip back into place.
“She’s fine.”
“Whoa!” The boys glanced back in unison at your outburst. “We’re moving!”
Dean had just pulled the Impala out of the parking lot, and you peered out the window.
“How is it doing that? That’s so cool!”
“What on earth did they give her, and where can I get some?” Dean chuckled. Then he glanced back at you again, and his expression changed. “Whoa, hey!”
Dean pulled over when he saw your wide-open door, you leaning much too far out of the car.
“Sam, go back and sit with her,” Dean demanded, and Sam was already halfway out when Dean got to a full stop.
“Ok kiddo,” Sam unbuckled your seat belt and scooted you over, coming to sit between you and the door.
“I was looking at the wheels!” You cried. “I wanted to watch us move!”
“How about you watch us move from inside the car, baby?” Dean suggested, and though you huffed in annoyance, you relented, and Dean got back on the road.
“Ow!” Sam cried not two minutes later. “What was that for?”
You tugged again on his hair, and giggled while he frowned at you.
“Your hair is funny!”
“Funny?” Sam grabbed your hand when you tried to reach for his hair again. “Hey, that hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam’s eyes widened when you began to cry.
“Dude, what did you do?” Dean glanced in the rear view mirror.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, stop doing it!”
“Hey, hey,” Sam soothed. “It’s ok, you’re ok.”
You were inconsolable until Dean pulled up at the bunker, the sight of which made you instantly stop crying.
“I know this place!” You said.
“Ok then,” Sam grinned. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
“Yay!” Sam grunted when you jumped on his back the moment he stepped out of the Impala. “I wanna go to my room!”
Sam carried you inside and deposited you on your bed, placing a hand on your head to stop you when you tried to get up.
“You need to sleep.”
“Awww! But I don’t want to!”
“C’mon Sam, she’s funnier like this,” Dean argued.
“Dude.” Dean relented at Sam’s glare.
“Ok, ok.”
Once Dean left the room, Sam turned to tuck you in.
“Sammy?” You mumbled, your head already drooping.
“Yeah kid?”
“I love you.”
Sam smiled, pushing your head back against the pillow.
“I love you too. Now go to bed.”
“No, I mean I really love you,” you insisted. “You’re nice. And you’re funny. And you’re a good big brother.”
Sam didn’t say anything, he just pressed a kiss to your forehead, smiled down at you, and left the room, turning off the lights behind him.
“Dean!”
Dean turned at the sound of your voice echoing down the hall. Sam had left your room not three minutes ago, and Dean had been under the impression that you’d conked right out.
“Yeah baby?” He asked as he opened your door.
“You didn’t give me a good night kiss.”
Dean bit back his laugh when he saw how serious you looked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, coming to stand beside your bed. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but when he turned to go you grabbed his arm.
“Dean?”
Dean hummed.
“I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too baby,” he grinned.
“I think you’re cool. You take really good care of me and Sammy, and-and…” you seemed to be losing your train of thought, your eyes unfocused as you blinked. “And I really really love you.”
“I’m gonna have to remind you of this conversation when you go back to normal,” Dean muttered, then he leaned closer to you again, pulling your covers up around you. “Ok kiddo. It’s time to get some rest.”
“M-k…” you were asleep not ten seconds later.
Neither Sam nor Dean ever told each other, or even you, what had been said that day.
But neither of them ever forgot it, either.
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tomkaulitzssgirl · 8 months
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i need to get fucked by tom when he realizes how turned on i get from him humping his guitar 💀
live every second | Tom Kaulitz
you stood behind the scenes, your arms folded against your chest as you smiled brightly watching tom run around the stage and jump.
he kept inciting the fans to scream as a grin spread across his face. they were all rocking it.
the show had been amazing, everything was impeccable, and the crowd was CRAZY. i had never seen such a turned up crowd.
they were singing “live every second” now and of course, the fans knew every word. i found myself singing too as i danced with my best friend, jessica, she was gustav’s girl.
finally, the part that i think everyone was waiting for arrived. tom and georg stopped playing as gustav’s drums accompanied bill’s singing as he said “live every second”.
your heart began to beat faster knowing what tom was about to do.
“he’s doing it. he’s doing it.” you repeated to jessica as she laughed, grabbing you arm.
tom took his guitar and as usual, he began humping it, his hips going back and forth. the crowd screamed even louder than before and you just wanted to join them, even though he was your boyfriend.
“oh girl, that’s what he will do to you tonight.” your friend said while she kept giggling at your expression.
your jaw was literally about to touch the ground. why did this turn you on so much? you saw him do it at every show but it never failed to make you want him right there.
it didn’t help that tom turned to look at you and winked with a smirk on his stupid but handsome face.
you shook your head at him while pressing your lips together. he knew what he had done.
right after the song ended, the band took a break. they came behind the stage, trying to get some fresh drinks.
tom walked towards you, kissing you as soon as he got closer, his hands on your waist, stroking the skin with his thumbs. he found his way to your core, rubbing over my panties and you gasped, looking around to see if anyone was watching.
“tom, you’re crazy.” you stopped his hand movement and intertwined your fingers together.
“i saw how you looked at me.” he whispered with a cocky smirk on his face, “we’re not done. just wait until we’re over, i’m gonna make you cry.”
was all he said before going back on stage. you stood there, speechless.
——————————
“what a good fucking show!” bill exclaimed as they all came back. the concert had finished and they were all sweaty and tired, but happy.
all the staff and of course you and jessica clapped your hands and hyped them up.
tom took a bottle of water and drank it fully. you watched as his adam’s apple went up and down.
“i messed up a bit.” he said right after he finished the bottle, throwing it away.
you could see he wasn’t that satisfied with himself and it made your heart ache. “what? you were amazing.”
“yes tom, you know i would make fun of you if you messed up.” bill said laughing.
you went up to him ready to hug him but he stepped back, “baby, i’m all sweaty. i look fucking disgusting.”
you rolled your eyes and hugged him anyway, resting your face against his chest, not caring of what he was saying. he wrapped his arms around you.
“why don’t we finish what we started earlier?” he whispered in your ear. you looked up at him with a sly smile and nodded.
“guys, we’re going to sleep a bit.” tom said taking your hand in his.
“yeah…sleep.” jessica held back a laugh while side eyeing you two.
he took you to his changing room, slamming the door behind him before pushing you against it making you yelp.
his lips kissed yours hungrily, his hands traveled roughly across your body, removing quickly your top, leaving only in your bra. he squeezed your breasts as he watched them in his hands, biting his lower lip.
“fuck. so hot.” he continued to squeeze them and massaging them gently, making you let out small moans. your hands went inside his big shirt, he understood you wanted it off and he quickly threw it away.
you observed his toned chest, stroking it and feeling his muscles beneath your hands meanwhile he took off your jeans.
his big hands cupped your ass and he kissed your neck, leaving marks on your skin.
“p-please tom.” you just wanted him, feel him inside you.
“what? use your words.” he teased as he took off his belt and baggy jeans, remaining in his underwear that clearly showed how hard he was.
“i want you in me.” you took your time, stroking every part of his upper chest and arms, giving attention to his biceps, abs, back muscles, everything.
tom revealed his length, taking it in his hand and stroking it a bit. “take off your panties.”
you did as he said, showing him your most private part. you always got shy as if it was the first time.
his hands went under your thighs, picking you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. he could feel the heat coming from you against his skin.
his teased you sliding up and down his tip, making you squirm against him. “c’mon tom! please just fuck me.”
“was it so hard to say?” he smirked and put him himself inside you quickly, making you arch your back against the door.
“shit! you always feel so good around me.” tom groaned beginning to plump in and out of you.
“mmh, i’m so wet for you daddy.” you moaned kissing his neck, making him hiss when you found his spot right beneath his ear.
“fuck fuck fuck. i know you are. shit keep doing it.” his pace became fast as his fingers were deep inside your skin.
you continued leaving wet kisses on his neck, loving hearing him groan in pleasure. you moaned on his skin when he hit your sensitive spot.
“mmh, you were wet even before. you’re such a slut for me even seeing me with my guitar turns you on.” his hand wrapped around your neck, plying with your ability to breath.
“you know i-i am, just for you daddy.” you loved making him feel like the only man in the world, because he was at least for you.
“i know baby, you belong to me, say it.” you could hear the door creaking and slamming as he kept pushing you against it with his pace.
“i-i’m yours! oh my god!” you almost screamed, tears forming in your eyes for the pleasure you were feeling and he had to cup your mouth so that no one heard you.
“shh. look how deep i am inside you.” he watched as his dico went in and out of you, seeing a little bump in your lower belly. he pressed on it, making you roll your eyes back and moan against his palm.
he kept pushing, rotating his hips causing more friction before starting with his previous pace.
you clenched around him as your nails scratched his back, letting him know you were so close and you felt him twitch inside you. you were both ready.
“fuck! i’m coming inside you!” tom groaned and you nodded frantically, not being able to say something coherent.
you came before him, pushing your hips forward against him as your mouth hanged open, only moans coming out of it.
his juices coaxed your walls and he kept pushing, riding out his high.
“fuck-king. slut.” he said with the last pushes before stopping, his head falling between your neck.
he let you down, your arms still wrapped around his neck for balance because of your trembling legs.
neither of you said anything, you just tried to catch your breath as you guys gave each other small pecks.
“i love you.” tom said after awhile, placing a lock of your hair behind your ear.
“i love you too.”
little did you guys know that everyone else heard you.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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Hello hello my lovely Mei!! How’s it going? I am a bit scared to go into my kitchen because I saw a long bug that was really fast and it disappeared somewhere behind a cabinet :/ I’ve come to you for some comfort maybe a little something about this with Bradley or Jake? I hope you’re doing well <33
Bradley's sleeping. The whole reason you're in the kitchen in the first place is because you want to make him breakfast in bed, so waking him seems counterintuitive. But something long and squirmy and crawly just slipped behind one of your cabinets, the one you'd wanted to reach into, and there's no way you're making pancakes with an extra houseguest.
"Brad," You push at his shoulder gently, marveling the way he's face-down in the pillow and somehow still breathing, "Bradley!"
"Mmf?" Comes his rather unsavory reply, muffled as he groans it straight into the pillow.
"There's a bug," You hiss, "In the kitchen. A big one, and I'm scared."
"Okay." He pushes his palms flat against the mattress to lift himself off of it, and you adore the way he muscles through his sleepy state to help you. He barrels down the hallway towards the kitchen with far less coordination than he'd have if he was fully awake, but it doesn't seem to bother him; he's tired, so he'll go after the bug tired, because you need him to. He's not going to make you wait and worry while he scrolls through his phone, and he's not going to get coffee first to wake him up. You need his bug-catching services, sleepiness be damned.
"Where?" He grunts, eyes still struggling to stay open. You point warily at the cabinet it had escaped behind without crossing the threshold into the kitchen itself, merely poised at the doorway watching.
"Got it," He grumbles, taking a spatula from a jar on the counter.
"Oh- Bradley, no!"
"Hm?" He turns to look back at you, spatula in hand, "What, babe?"
"That's for the food," You fret, "The bug's dirty. And- and so is behind the cabinet."
"Okay." He agrees thoughtlessly once more, taking orders like you're his commanding officer, "Can you get me a hanger?"
You retrieve a metal one, so that it can be bent and warped to however he wants to fish the bug out. But his brain isn't functioning that intensively yet, and he merely swipes it behind the cabinet. To his credit, he pushes it out and away from you, but all he does is displace the creature, not capture it.
You let out a mangled sound, something between a gasp and a cry. The bug scuttles away from you at first, but then to your horror, rounds on you, like it knows you're the one who snitched on it.
"Ew- I- Bradley!" You gush, already backing away from the doorway that it's charging. He's finally more awake now, and though you'd have liked to merely set the thing outside, you're not upset when Bradley crunches it with the bottom of his slipper.
He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when it's trapped beneath his foot, and you try to calm your racing heart.
"You okay, honey?" He asks, and you nod disjointedly.
"That was scary," You note, and he hums in agreement.
"He's gone now. I'll clean him up." He grimaces slightly at the mess under his shoe, "Can I have some wipes?"
Bradley doesn't make you move the bug's corpse, just scoops it up into a bleach wipe and scrubs down the floor. You watch with a perpetually nervous expression, even though the threat has been neutralized.
"All gone." Bradley reports, the bleach wipes falling sadly into the garbage can. You nod, gratefully accepting the embrace that he tugs you into, leaning into the kiss that he smushes against your forehead.
"Why were you up so early?" He asks, some of that sleepy fog still thickening his voice.
"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed," You admit, and you feel him chuckle against you.
"Should I go get back in bed?" He asks.
"I think I want you to stay," You fret, holding the end of his too-long sleeve, "But I won't make you cook. You just have to be on bug patrol."
"Bug patrol," He echoes curiously, testing the title on his tongue. He seems to approve, leaning in with a smug smile on his face to peck at your lips, "That's me, honey."
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