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#I wanted to be wanted so badly my hands shake with it
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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my heart over yours; part two | j.fleming x reader
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prompt: your attention is suddenly not fully on jessie and she's not taking it well.
author notes: here's the part two y'all wanted 🥳 thanks for all the love on the first part like i swear i seen everything, just too nervous to say anything back lmaoo. regardless i hope this meets expectations 💗 enjoy! p.s. i swear the fic reads better while listening to the song...
contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, jeffery is trying to not tweak out 💔 #failed, reader is sorta of a bad gf/about to be gf to blondie, slight guilt tripping (?) not on purpose, spelling / grammatical issues maybe ignore them, jessie is sorta mean in this..
part one
playing been away by brent faiyaz 🎵
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you don't answer jessie's question right away. easily being able to spot the badly hidden irritation in her voice, she could never hide her emotions from you. your heartbeat picks up as you look away from your screen. your eyes landing on your wall before you say anything. jessie asks something else before you can even answer her first question; "what did you say?"
"jess, what do you mean what did i say? if i said i forgot.. and.." you try to figure out what to say but can't find the words to tell your bestfriend that you forgot her game and technically can't make it because of a date with some girl you hardly know from class. jessie stays silent as she gets up out of the hotel bed. leaving her phone on the bed, her camera just facing the ceiling. you narrow your eyes in confusion, but before you could even say anything jessie comes back into the frame.
she grabs her phone then sets it up against something on the nightstand next to the bed. your confusion worsens as you notice some type of shirt in her hands as she walks back a little so that most of her is in the frame; now that you can fully see her you notice that she's wearing your plaid pajama shorts and your hoodie.
"so that's where my clothes went?" you say in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. you smile once you see jessie let out a soft giggle. she shakes her head before holding up the shirt; showing off the backside that has your last name on it. now that you can see what the shirt actually is you can see it's a national canadian team jersey. you let out a loud laugh of disbelief, not expecting to see your name on the back in of a national team jersey ever. "jessie..what..?" you say, a smile on your lips.
jessie holds up the jersey for a few minutes before moving out of frame to go put it back near her bag on the other side of the room. she comes back to the phone, picks it up, and lays down on her bed.
"all of the team said we should get you this since you're always at every game.. sometimes.." you giggle hearing jessie say sometimes, she gives you a little eye roll before continuing, "and we were going to surprise you with it this weekend but.."
her trailing off makes you frown. guilt rushes into your mind. you have been to a majority of the canadian national team's games especially if they happened in canada; it just felt natural to support jessie and pretty soon after attending your fifth game, you weren't just attending for jessie. you went to the games to see the other national team players as well. with the whole team becoming close to you just as they are close to jessie. you're basically a honorary player.
"god, jessie-" again you try to explain yourself more, but she cuts you off again. "sorry i just keep not letting you talk, but, god.. you don't have to come if you don't want to. it's not like i want to guilt you into doing something. never that," jessie says softly. you let out a sigh at how kind-hearted jessie can really be. she was a true sweetheart.
you go silent for a few moments. thinking about the current situation and how you could possibly not hurt anyone's feelings in the process. jessie was your top priority, but sasha didn't deserve to just be blown off. she wasn't too bad; she was really a good person too. it didn't feel fair to just drop her. you let out a soft gasp when an idea comes to your mind. jessie furrows her brows as you say, "i'll come but i have to talk to sasha first. you know about the date. don't wanna just blow her off."
"oh, okay. yeah that's.. whatever," the freckled woman tries to hide the irritation that's back in her tone. why did you have to talk to sasha about anything? especially something pertaining to you and jessie, not sasha. you hardly knew the girl and now you needed her opinion on decisions that frankly don't have nothing to do with her? it was slowly pissing jessie off. she fights off to urge to say that you actually don't have to talk to sasha first and you could just get on the first flight to san diego instead of wasting your time on some blonde chick who doesn't even know you; well, doesn't know you like how jessie knows you.
she wasn't even your girlfriend, just some date. hardly that, more like a project partner.
you can hear the irritation in her voice easily, again, jessie couldn't hide her emotions around you to save her life but you don't address it. reminding yourself to talk to her about it when you come down to san diego for the game.
soon enough the conversation moves away from anything sasha related with you not wanting to annoy jessie any further. she rambles to you about this show she's been watching throughout camp and how when she went to the beach she got thrown in the water and also how she saw this shop that she thinks you would like and so much more. that short time period where it felt like you two hardly talked really took it's toll on her, who else could she talk to about anything and everything? no one else. that period of time took it's toll on you too. you didn't realize how much you missed jessie until you talked to her for hours.
that night she refused to let you hang up, not that you were going to. asking (pouting at you) for you to fall asleep on facetime with her. you obviously agreed; falling asleep first. once you fully fell asleep, jessie took a few facetime photos. putting them in her folder in her gallery that she has for you. eventually she drifts off to sleep too. sasha long forgotten.
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in the morning you're the one who hangs up first at the dismay of jessie. the canadian player tried her hardest to get you to stay on the phone until she had to go training which was in two hours. unfortunately, you had a morning class and felt weird about staying on the phone while in a classroom of nearly hundred people.
"i'll be silent, c'mon," jessie pouts. her hair is an absolute mess, stray hairs flying everywhere out of her loosely tied ponytail. she's still so tired. you can tell by how she's trying to keep her eyes open; her tired voice makes you smile.
"no, jess, you c'mon. you are so noisy when you're getting ready," you say. jessie lets out a groan before shaking her head, "no i'm not. i think you confused yourself with me because that's all you."
"stop lying to yourself, freckles."
"whatever, whatever. go ahead and leave me here.. all alone.." you roll your eyes at jessie's dramatics. she groans again when even her dramatics don't work. you finally hang up after promising her that you would call her tonight. she texts you hardly a minute after you hanged up,
freckles 💗
you woke me up, left, and now i can't sleep 😐
you
that's not even my fault
blame ucla
freckles 💗
im not saying you should have skipped class for your long term bestfriend..
but im not saying you shouldn't have
you
did someone replace my bestfriend?
my jess always forced me to go to class so..
freckles 💗
👎👎👎
not replaced it's called upgraded
you send a few texts back before slipping your phone into your bag. it seems that jessie falls back to sleep as you don't feel no vibrations from your phone as you walk to your first class.
the day passes by slowly as you bounce from class to class. why did you pick this major again? you can't even remember at this point. jessie sent you a few photos of her eating breakfast earlier. those made you smile and feel a little less exhausted. if only she was here. the day continues on and eventually you reach the class where sasha is in.
you two haven't talked since she asked you out yesterday. you were busy talking to jessie and you guess sasha had other things to do as well. now she's sitting next to you in class. sasha's playing with your fingers while telling you about how she struggled to cook dinner last night. you make a few jokes about how she could probably burn water if she had the chance which makes her give you a playful push to the shoulder.
"uh, sash. can i call you that?" you ask softly, unsure about giving her a nickname. sasha smiles, "of course you can. it's better than blondie, you know."
"who calls you that?"
"idiots who don't know me," she gives you a cheeky smile before shrugging, "but you do know me so don't call me blondie. alright?"
you give her a nod while smiling. the woman has a good sense of humor, you won't deny it. not like jessie's but funny. you mentally scold yourself for comparing the two; they are two different people, obviously they won't act the same.
"alright. anyways, i have something to ask you," your eyes glance over to the door of the classroom where your professor now comes though, "after though. our professor finally decided to show up." sasha giggles at your jab before nodding, pulling away from touching your hand.
the lecture lasts for nearly three hours. with the professor at the end reminding everyone to turn in their projects next week. good thing you and sasha finished that huge hunk of work earlier in the week; you didn't feel like stressing about that while down in san diego. sasha holds onto your arm as you two walk out of class then towards her dorm. "i didn't know rather your question was something important, so i wanted to give us some privacy. you know," sasha smiles as she lets your arm go.
"yeah, i get it," you walk into the vaguely familiar space after she unlocks the door. dropping your bag onto the floor next to her bed before sitting on it. you watch sasha slip her shoes off before joining you on the bed; shoulder to shoulder. for some reason you shift away, not out of rudeness. you just didn't want to be that close right now. if sasha cared she didn't say anything.
"okay, so, do you know about the usa vs canada friendly that's happening in san diego over the weekend, right?" you say, remembering how sasha and you talked about soccer sometime ago.
"yeah. what about it?"
"you know my bestfriend, jessie?" you don't notice how sasha purses her lips hearing you say jessie's name, you continue, "she plays for canada and i always go to her games. i been missing her and her entire team, so i planned to go to the game this weekend and forgot to tell you. i don't regret saying yes to the date, but i was thinking.. instead of going on the date you could come with me to the game? it would be so fun, i swear!"
sasha was feeling conflicted at first. she wanted to spend time one on one with you, so you two could possibly further this relationship between you but having the opportunity to go to an international friendly wasn't usually given to her. "yeah! okay, let's go. i been wanting to see the usa play for so long anyways," she gives you one of her usual bright smiles. seeing that smile calms your nerves. now you just had to tell jessie.
you spend almost ten minutes in sasha's dorm. just playing around and talking before you notice how it's starting to get late. sasha walks you all the way out of her dorm building, telling you to sleep well as you leave. you give her a smile before continuing to walk away.
the moment you get into jessie and yours dorm, you text her.
you
i asked sash if she wanted to come to the game
she said yes
can you get her a ticket pleasee. all the good ones sold out
freckles 💗
who is sash??
you
sasha..??
jessie just came back from training, already having taken her after practice shower and changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. she wanted to be ready to facetime all night, no interruptions. she wasn't expecting you to text her about sasha; at least not like that. after last night, jessie almost prayed for you to text her the next day that you were coming alone. she didn't expect you to text that you invited sasha to her game. and now you're giving this blonde chick nicknames? all jessie can do is roll her eyes. she fights the urge to lie and say that she couldn't get any tickets; that the game is fully sold out, but she knows you would catch that lie easily. while jessie's thinking about it, her phone vibrates with another text from you.
you
im going to get in the shower
text me yes or no
if yes send the ticket 🙏 ur a lifesaver if yes
your text makes jessie sigh. she doesn't want to disappoint you even if it kills her. around ten minutes after you sent that text, she starts to ask around if she could get a ticket for the game. claiming it was for "a friend" she cringed saying that, but regardless. it wasn't hard to get a ticket, she is a player after all.
you get out of the shower an hour later. you're drying your hair as you move over to your bed to grab your phone; noticing a text from jessie. you smile as you read,
freckles 💗
i got one
*photo attachment sent*
you can give it to her when she comes down with you i guess
i'll just give it to you
you click on the photo, zooming in to see what seat sasha will be sitting at. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you realize the seat on her ticket is on the other side of the stadium, away from you.
you
bro jess
that ticket isn't even near me 😭
freckles 💗
you didn't say anything about wanting the ticket to be near you
be clearer next time what 👎👎
you
be so serious..
jessie facetimes you and obviously you answer. now sitting down on your bed, your phone propped up against a plushie near your pillow. you sitting slightly to the side, trying to braid your hair. once jessie phone connects, she's pouting, "i can't see your face."
"yes you can, jess," you giggle. jessie pouts gets worse, "hardly.."
"you're such a baby," you look at the screen to see jessie resting her face against one of the hotel bed pillows, her hair a little messy and out of a ponytail. the sight makes you giggle again; how she's looking is just proving your point. jessie is a baby.
"i'm not a baby. just miss you..wanna see you," she says softly. being away from you without talking much was already tiring her out. she wasn't used to it, if you two could be on the phone all day she would. the second you step foot into san diego, you aren't getting rid of her. irritation bothers her mind again as jessie remembers that you invited that blonde to come see the game. she smiles when you say, "miss you more. i feel so bad. it's my fault we haven't been talking and seeing eachother as much."
"blame ucla, isn't that what you said earlier?" jessie jokes, "no but seriously, it's not your fault. you're just so hardworking. it's admirable"
"i know jessie fleming isn't calling someone else hardworking," you joke back. trying to hide how jessie's compliment makes you smile so hard; it's her favorite thing to tease you about. she was addicted to complimenting you it seemed. the canadian always had something good to say about you, it's a habit she gained back when you two became friends in elementary.
she scoffs, "i swear you work harder than me." right after saying that she yawns. you don't even try to argue with her. knowing how stubborn jessie can be sometimes. you yawn too, the day was tiring enough and seeing jessie makes you even sleepier. you read somewhere about how people get all sleepy around others who make them feel safe? yeah, that's what's going on here. too bad you weren't in her arms right now, instead talking to a screen. you get up out of bed, going out of the frame to go cut off the light before coming back to lay on your bed. shifting to be in a similar position as jessie.
"god, now you're copying me? you're obsessed," she jokes, making you roll your eyes. "be so serious with yourself. you are the one always wearing my clothes."
"alright. i can't argue against that," jessie yawns again. you decide this is the best time to talk about the ticket situation before jessie ends up dozing off like she always does. you shift again, pressing your face against your pillow as you pull up the cover; making your lips slightly pouty. jessie smiles seeing you all pouty and sleepy. she couldn't wait to see you in person. too bad that smile doesn't last long as you say, "why would you get sash seats so far away from me? that woman is going to be so lost."
the canadian scoffs, not wanting to talk about this right now or talk about sasha in general, ever. she curses how kind you are; why can't you just not care about this blonde girl? like you don't even know her truly. "that's the ticket they gave me when i asked. don't blame me, all the seats around you were sold out," she pushes away your concern nonchalantly.
"and since when was blondie, sash?" she asks. it's your turn to scoff, remembering how sasha said only people who don't know her called her blondie, you say, "since today. and why do you call her blondie?"
"because i don't know her name."
"you literally called her sasha the other night."
"not my fault that it's forgettable. it's not like she's my friend," jessie says, not adding in how sasha isn't your friend either. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childishness. it was funny and adorable, but slightly annoying.
"ugh, alright, freckles. i'll drop it before i annoy you to death," you roll your eyes once jessie smiles. she thanks you before the conversation falls into talking about how she failed a push-up contest earlier.
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you and sasha fly out to san diego the day of the match. unfortunately college made it a little hard to come out earlier than saturday with you having an exam on thursday, but still you two make it.
checking into the same hotel as the canada national team at around six, an hour before the game. getting from the airport to the hotel was easy but the traffic was not fun. at least it wasn't as bad as la traffic, but still horrible.
you're standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared hotel room with sasha. you texted jessie earlier before you boarded the plane that you would be there with her text back a quick okay since she was busy preparing for the game. there wasn't a need to text her that you were here, it's not like she would be able to answer it.
"wow, you betrayed me. canada really?" sasha playfully says as she walks into the bathroom. wearing a usa jersey that has s.mewis on the back while you're wearing your usual fleming canada jersey. you smile as you tease back, "i'm canadian. what did you expect? you betrayed me actually. really, usa?"
sasha shrugs, leaning against the bathroom counter, "gotta support the fellow tall blonde. sammy is a total beast." you just smile and don't argue back. what could say? sam mewis is a force on the pitch. it's been years since you played and even you knew that.
you finish getting ready after almost fifteen minutes. with sasha coming in and out of the bathroom while explaining that she actually really enjoyed the usa when they played, but is just a casual fan. you two leave out of the hotel room with just enough time to grab a drink before going to the stadium.
"sorry that your ticket is like so far from me. jessie couldn't get one closer," you say to sasha as you sit beside her in y'all's uber. the blonde woman takes it well, just saying that she will catch you after the game. you explain to her that you two are going to go down on the pitch after, so she shouldn't leave and go back to the hotel.
"forgot your bestie was a bigshot," she says when you two reach the stadium. shutting the car door after you get out of the backseat. "yeah. freckles is just that good," you smile, pulling sasha along to one of the entrances. once you two go inside, y'all split up. sasha joking that she'll see you on the other side which makes you laugh.
when you reach your seat, you get comfortable. sipping on your strawberry drink as you wait for the match to get started. the stadium has a nice amount of fans, with you even noticing that some seats around you are empty. shaking your head as you think about jessie's excuse last night; all the seats around you were sold out? as if. speaking of jessie, you spot her on the pitch. she waves once you two's eyes meet. quinn, who's beside her, waves as well. giving you a heart gesture that you return.
soon enough the game starts. it's fast and intense with players on both sides being aggressive in their own right. jessie even scores a goal for canada which makes you scream. she gives you a smug smile when she passes by where you are in the stands, making you roll your eyes. the match continues on with you screaming a bit more everytime things got too intense. the score line ends up being seven to six; the usa scoring a last minute goal to secure the win. your eyes look at the usa players fall into a group hug before looking around the pitch at the canadian players who obviously didn't look as overjoyed.
fans start to leave the stadium after some of the players walked around to interact. jessie is still far off somewhere on the pitch while you get out of your seat and walk over to the stairs of your part of the stands. leaning against the railing, trying to look around if you can see a certain tall blonde in the rapidly emptying stadium. you don't notice when she comes up to you. she playfully pushes your arm as she says, "told you the usa would win."
"yeah, whatever. canada is going to get y'all back next time," you tease back. you two stand near the bottom of the stairs, right where the pitch meets the tunnel. it takes a bit but jessie starts to make her way over to you. a bright smile on her lips. you can tell how excited the freckled woman is by her fast walking, making you giggle. when she gets close enough you walk onto the pitch to meet her. pulling her into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck. sasha walks onto the pitch behind you but stays a few steps back.
"god, missed you," jessie's words come out half muffled as she nuzzles her face into your neck. her hands holding onto your waist. you sway a little, saying, "missed you more." soon jessie pulls her face out of your neck, still hugging you as she rests her head onto your shoulder. sasha and her eyes meet; jessie's hands moving lower onto your lower back, rubbing at the skin there with one of her hands going underneath the fabric of the fleming jersey you have on. the other resting on top of it.
"ew, your hand is all sweaty.." you mumble against her ear. jessie just chuckles, partially at your small disgust and partially at how sasha's eyes glance from where jessie's hands are on your body then back to meeting the canadian's eyes. the soccer player gives sasha a smug smile right before you pull away from the hug. you don't stray too far though, interlocking your hand with jessie's afterwards.
you pull jessie closer to sasha. smiling as you say, "sorry sash. we haven't seen each other in a while, so i got distracted." sasha nods, a small smile on her lips that don't really meet her eyes. she's about to speak when jessie cuts her off, "yeah, sorry.. savannah..? we just get carried away sometimes. i just been missing my bestfriend so much." you gently smack jessie's arm which makes her let out a soft ow. she looks at you and you look back.
while you and jessie are looking at each other, having a silent conversation with just eyes alone, sasha is looking at how you two's hands are interlocked. the way your thumb is rubbing on one of jessie's fingers; the way jessie gives your hand a light squeeze. her eyes look back up when jessie speaks, "sorry for forgetting your name. with the game and all, i'm just so tired."
"oh no, it's fine. we haven't even met really so i get it," sasha says. you let out a sigh of relief. just thankful sasha didn't take any offense; being rude to the only person in your entire lecture who actually talks to you would not be a good outcome. the conversation soon falls away into something else, with everyone wanting to move away from the awkward interaction.
eventually it's time to head to the bus to get back to the hotel. jessie doesn't let go of your hand once as she walks with you to the bus. sasha trailing behind. jessie stops next to the bus, glancing at sasha before saying to you, "are you going to come on the bus with me? everyone wants to see you and we were going to stop by this donut shop nearby that i know you'll like, i don't know where we're going to park such a huge bus, but we'll make it work i guess?"
you let out a giggle at her last sentence before considering jessie's question for a moment. stopping yourself from saying yes right away; jessie and donuts? you wanted to say yes badly, but then you looked behind you to see sasha and remembered that you didn't come to san diego alone.
"can't, jess. i don't want to let sasha take an uber alone. it's evening time," you explain. the blonde woman smiles hearing how you are so considerate. jessie wants to pull that smile off her face; what is she even smiling for? it wasn't some over romantic gesture. you're just a nice person. that's why blondie is here anyways because you want to be nice to people who frankly don't even hold value to you. jessie pushes away her annoyance, just saying, "okay. better come to my hotel room the moment i get to there, you have to get your donut." you smile and nod, pulling jessie into a hug before letting her go onto the bus.
sasha and you walk back to one of the entrances of the stadium. waiting for around five minutes for an uber, you hold the door open for sasha to let her in first and then you get in after.
the ride back to the hotel is awkward, but alright. you wanted to apologize for basically leaving sasha out the moment jessie appeared, but you thought that bringing it up would make everything else worse. while in the uber, sasha asks you a question, "there's this pizza place near the hotel that i been wanting to go to. never had the chance, college and all but i was wondering if you wanted to go. like tonight."
"tonight?" you look at sasha, seeing a hopeful look in her eyes. that look sealed your fate the moment you saw it; you been blowing her off all day, she deserves this one thing, right?
"yeah, sure."
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you two reach the hotel before the canadian national team bus does. after going to y'all's hotel room and changing out of your match outfits. you slip into one of jessie's t-shirts and some jeans. while sasha is changing in the bathroom into a yellow sundress. while you're sitting on your bed, waiting for sasha, you get a text from jessie that the team is back at the hotel.
"i'm going to go see jessie! she's here! i'll be back soon though, i swear," you shout out towards the bathroom before leaving out of the hotel room quickly. not even catching sasha's response. you find jessie's room, the freckled woman standing there next to her door. she must have put her bag inside of her room because it wasn't anywhere near her. she's holding two donuts, smiling when she sees you walking towards her, "gotchu your favorite. had to fight off ashley for it."
"you could've let her take it. we could have shared," you take your donut, taking a small bite. you enjoy it for a moment before remembering you have come here on a mission. "okay, jessie, listen.." by your tone jessie can already tell you're about to say something she wasn't going to like.
"sasha asked to go to this pizza shop that she's been wanting to go to for so long and i have been ignoring basically all day and i feel so bad, so i'm going to go with her but once i get back, i'm sleeping in your hotel room," you say. jessie lets out a soft groan at hearing that you were going to technically blow her off for blondie. that tall chick couldn't have to want to go to that place that bad. she does smile hearing you say that you'll come sleep in her room after, but still, she wanted you for the whole night. not as some afterthought.
jessie shakes her head before saying, "i don't wanna impose but can i come along? you know i'm always hungry after games." that sentence wasn't even a lie she made up to join in on your little pizza date. you knew how hungry jessie got after every game especially if she was a starter.
"your appetite can never be squashed. whatever, c'mon," you laugh, pulling on her arm to bring her along with you down the hall.
"i haven't even eaten my donut yet and neither have you!"
"we'll snack on the way to the room!"
"what about my clothes? i have to change, i don't even have my hoodie on anymore."
"god jessie, you steal my clothes any other time. just borrow again."
you two bicker like usual all the way on the walk to the hotel room. the donuts are half gone by the time you two reach it. "so is sasha like in the room on the left or right of yours?" jessie asks. you give her a look, about to tell her that actually sasha and you got a joint room, but you don't even have to as sasha opens the door.
jessie stares blankly from sasha to you to sasha to you and finally landing her glance on you.
"what..?" jessie doesn't even hide the irritation in her voice, this was really starting to piss her off now.
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author notes: woww another cliffhanger 😱😱 i hope y'all liked it because i enjoyed writing it, tell me your thoughts about it too 💔💔 all the engagement was fun last time
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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bahablastplz · 2 days
Text
Changbin + Choking
CW: Choking (obviously), Slight dom Changbin, praise, thigh riding WC: 650
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Thinking abt asking Changbin to choke you for the first time…
“You want me to what?” 
“You know, choke me? If you’re okay with it, I mean… but I just thought it would be hot.” 
“But what if I hurt you baby?” He looks up at you for a second, concern washing over his features. 
“I kind of… want you to?” He looks at you with wide eyes, but you interrupt him before he can speak. “Okay well, it’s more like, really hot to think that you *could* hurt me, you know? Like you have these really big and sexy muscles, you’re really strong so you can like, hold me in place and squeeze my throat without really hurting me, but I’ll feel it, right? Like, you’re the one that has all that power over me, you’re the one in control,” you say. You know you’re rambling, but when you look up your boyfriend has a pained expression on his face. 
“Mhmm,” is all he says, but it sounds more like a squeak. 
“Bin… you okay?” “Am I okay… yeah yeah yeah yeah, I’m fine!” He says all too quickly. “I’m so fine. I’m really good, actually, I’m–” 
“Bin.” 
He takes a deep breath and looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks. “Fine, baby. That was just so hot, I don’t know. I’m just embarrassed about how that made me feel. Why don’t you come here, yeah? And I can show you?”
He pulls you into where he’s sitting on the couch, his hands on your hips as he guides you down. As you start to straddle him he tsks, picking you up and placing you right where he wants you–His thigh. 
“Wait, Bin… I want you–”
“Shh,” he interrupts. “You’re gonna be okay. Can you show me how badly you want me? Need you to get off on my thigh first.” 
You hesitate for a second but when his hand wraps around your throat you gasp. Your hips start moving back and forth on his clothed thigh before you can even think further. 
“Fuck, baby. Just like that. You like my muscles that much? Need you to show me how good my thigh is making you feel.” 
The hand on your throat squeezes just a little bit and when you let out a delicious moan your boyfriend lets out his own breathy sigh in return. He looks just as utterly wrecked, eyes dark and lips parted and hair messed up and sticking out in the wrong places–all from the simple actions of you grinding against his thigh, your clothed clit rubbing deliciously against the material. 
You get worked up way too fast until your hips sputter, losing your rhythm. Before you realize, you’re rocking back and forth at that same speed, and you realize that Changbin is pushing and pulling you onto his thigh by the grip on your throat. His grip is sturdy but not bruising, though the way he manhandles you by the most vulnerable part of your body with all of the control in the world makes your head spin. You let your body still, him now doing most of the work for you.
“Fuck, close…” you warn. 
You feel him flex his thigh underneath you, the muscles contracting against your clothed core. He drags your body against the fabric even harder, the pressure building up even more. 
“You look so good like this,” he breathes. “God baby, cum for me. Let me make you finish all over me so I can fuck you on my cock.” 
Your thighs shake as you finish and he helps you ride out your release before he lets go of your neck. You slump forward into him, catching your breath as he cradles your head into him, stroking your hair. 
“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay baby? Want me to choke you while you ride my cock?” 
*** Masterlist Recs
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nerdyloverparadise · 2 days
Text
Getting to know Chuuya (pt2):
Chuuya technically had pulled you into the Port Mafia so he was the one who had to hand down an item to you. The day Mori told him to give you something of his was the most irritating day ever for him but… he ended up giving you his choker.
“There, keep it… just keep it.”
“Uh… a collar?”
“NO NOT A COLLAR… just put the d*mn thing on.”
The following day, he acquired an identical replacement for himself, inadvertently matching with you.
"I definitely wear it better," he remarked, a hint of amusement softening his frustration.
The bickering almost NEVER ended and there was always something being quarreled about.
“YOU’VE JUST ABOUT PUSHED ME TO MY LIMIT, CHUUYA!” you exclaimed, frustration boiling over as you grabbed him by the throat.
In retaliation, Chuuya seized you by the collar and forcefully pushed you against the wall. “YOU’RE ASKING FOR TROUBLE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!”
There were many times when Chuuya and you would yell in one another's faces, grab each other by the throat, and occasionally crush one another up against the wall. Your heated exchanges often escalated to shouting matches, with both parties grabbing each other in fits of anger. It was a volatile mix of fury, frustration, and a primal need to vent. But in this particular moment, the size of both of your pupils and the lift of your brows had grown rapidly… along with a few other things… like the tension in the room. As his gaze swept across yours, it seemed like he was committing every part of your face to memory and couldn’t stop… until Mori knocked on the door to assess how you were settling in. After that day, You and Chuuya had undeniable chemistry but it was never really touched on or acknowledged.
Over time you started to get used to Chuuya and his behavior. Bickering was always a common trend between you both and it seemed like hate at first glance but most times the real issue was that you both weren't used to expressing any type of emotion besides anger, even when comforting. Despite the constant friction, there were moments when you noticed a softer side to Chuuya. For example…
- Chuuya made sure to protect you under all circumstances no matter how badly you both bickered. Like the time a bullet almost pierced through your arm in a mission. It didn’t take corruption for Chuuya to send the bullet flying back through the assailant's skull…. and leg… and torso. We get it, Chuuya.
But acknowledging those moments felt like admitting vulnerability, so instead, you both continued to trade barbs and sarcasm, hiding the budding warmth beneath the surface. As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the tension between you only seemed to grow, sparking a fire that neither of you dared to extinguish.
After that mission was over, he wanted to go out to the bar but didn't really want to go alone.
“Man, I could really use some booze right about now.”
“I'm surprised your body can even tolerate booze, half-pint.”
“Half-pint of alcohol does sound grea- wait a minute. YOU CALLIN ME SHORT?”
“Of course not.”
He dragged you along to a bar with him despite you not wanting to go and ordered a bunch of drinks. You sit next to him, swirling the drink around in the cup and tapping your foot. Chuuya drank so much you had to be the one to carry him back to the Port Mafia and the one to deal with his violent hangover the next day. When you both arrive back at the HQ, you lie him down in his bedroom and take off his hat, placing it onto the top part of the lamp and letting it hang like he always does.
“Chuus… *you laugh softly and shake your head.* you're reckless as hell.”
Chuuya starts to snore loudly, almost tauntingly as he rolls over in bed.
“Asshole.”
For the most part this became a weekly thing. You carried Chuuya back to the PM every Saturday when he had drank entirely too much and you both bickered constantly, even worse when drunk. Even then, Chuuya's invitations to the bar carried with it a weighty undercurrent of yearning, his desire for companionship masked by casual banter. What’d you expect? He’s emotionally constipated and let’s be real… you probably are too...
To be continued...
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elllisaaa · 3 days
Note
Can you do sub Beomgyu smut?
[cuz I'm a female dom, and I absolutely fucking love hove bratty he is and his whines make me- well, wet]
uk those fics where the reader, teases them in public and they punish xer/xim in the bathrooms/public???
can you do that with sub beomgyu, and rough and dom reader[any gender is fine, preferrably female]?
only if you're comfortable though...
ALL MINE - C. BEOMGYU
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-> pairing : brat sub!beomgyu x fem dom!reader
-> words count : 1.6k
-> genre : smut
-> warnings : dom/sub dynamic, teasing, dirty talk, praising, semi-public sex, face slapping, cock slapping, gagging, humiliation, bondage, choking, use of 'good boy', 'whore', 'slut' and 'miss', handjob, cum eating
+ the way i'm depicting beomgyu does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language
-> author's note : i fucking love to write subby men, and beomgyu and his bratty attitude gives me the perfect opportunity to do so. as you said, he gives out that vibe so much ! it was so fun to write this, thank you anonie, hope you'll enjoy this !
-> masterlist | txt masterlist
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Going out with your friends had always been an activity that you liked, the feeling of joy when you reunited with them couldn’t be compared to anything else. But now that you were taking Beomgyu with you, it was even more fun. Why ? Because he wanted to impress your friends so badly, he wanted to make a good impression on them. That’s why he kept trying to present himself in a good light, and acting as if he was the one leading your relationship when you both knew that behind closed doors, you had him on his knees for you. 
Despite that being well established, and your rules being really strict, Beomgyu had been not so subtly touching you the whole night : putting his hand on your thigh, leaning in to whisper some dirty things in your ears, and even taking your own hand to bring it closer to his crotch under the restaurant table. Not that you particularly minded playing this type of game in public, but it wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You had made it clear to him before going out - that he will get his reward for having been good all week if he did one last thing for you, which simply consisted in behaving and not teasing you during this dinner out. 
After spending two years together, you thought that you would have finally succeeded in taming his bratty attitude. But no. It was coming out every now and then, and always when you were the most frustrated and had the least patience left. It was almost as if Beomgyu had a second sense that allowed him to know when to mess with you just so he could get punished harshly. Well, truth be told, maybe it was exactly why he was doing this - because he knew that the way you were going to torture him will be delicious. 
“- Haven’t I made it clear, baby ? Keep your hands off me tonight and you’ll get what you want, okay ?”
Beomgyu threw his best pleading eyes at you, still not listening to your orders as you felt his fingers creep up higher underneath your dress. You let out an exasperated sigh, pushing his hand away from you. Under the guise of getting closer to you, your boyfriend nuzzled his head in your neck, whining in your ears.
“- But I need you so bad, I’ve been good, just let me touch you, I’ll be quick.
- You know what, you wanna be a slut and a brat ? You’re gonna get punished instead. Go to the bathroom and wait for me.”
For once, Beomgyu listened, getting up from the table and excusing himself. You let some minutes go by, and when you felt like he had been marinating for long enough, you got to the bathroom too, saying that you were going to see if your boyfriend was doing good.  
“- You’re not even able to not touch yourself for ten minutes ? You’re a fucking whore Beomgyu.
- Y-Yes but only for you.”
His cocky smile despite his shake voice and his hands stroking his clothed boner made you want to break him, to wipe the smug look in his eyes. You entered fully in the small cabin of the bathroom, pushing him to sit down on the toilets. You locked the door behind you and detached the ribbon you put in your hair before going out. 
“- Give me your hands. 
- No.”
The loud sound your hand produced when you slapped him echoed in the bathroom along with the moan he let out. You grabbed his hair roughly, tugging on them to get him to look at you. His once confident look was now completely gone, his eyes glassy and he was almost ready to drop on his knees. But he loved to test your patience even more. So he still didn’t give you his hands, and moaned again when you slapped his other cheek. 
“- You’re getting on my fucking nerves Beomgyu, if you wanna cum you better give me your hands.”
Without saying a word, he did it and you tied them together with your little pink ribbon. It was quite funny how you were always dressed so cute, with cute little make-up and cute little hairpins, but once you were alone with him, you turned into the nastiest little demon. And Beomgyu loved this contrast, loved to know how people could never suspect the real dynamic of your couple. 
“- See ? You know how to be good so behave.
- But I don’t wanna.
- You will when I’ll make you cry. All it takes is for me to touch your small dick and you’re begging for me to let you cum, right ?”
Beomgyu wanted to protest, to say something, but you were already squeezing his hard cock through his clothes, stroking him at a quick pace, that had him squirming in place and whimpering out loud. Your other hand came up to his throat, getting a firm hold of it, enough to shut him up a little. 
“- Y/N… Baby, baby…
- What ? You’re complaining now ? You’ve got what you wanted though, or is it still not enough for you, fucking slut ?”
Your boyfriend nodded as he tried to free his hands from the ribbons, but you had grown too used to tying him up because he was constantly acting up. It felt good to be completely at your mercy, but he also wanted to touch you, wanted to feel and lick your skin, wanted to grip on the flesh of your ass while you bounced on his cock and milked him dry. 
“- You’re so greedy. You’re gonna take what I give if you wanna cum, understood ? 
- A-And if I don’t want t-to ?”
A sinister smile spread on your lips, your hand squeezing his throat harder, making him choke on his own words. 
“- Then you don’t cum at all.”
You let go of his cock, going as far as taking a step back and Beomgyu’s eyes opened wider. He tried to reach your hand and pull you back to him, but his tied wrists wouldn’t allow it and he let out a desperate whine. 
“- No, no, no, I need to cum !
- Beg for it.”
He shook his head and earned himself another slap, his cheeks starting to get red, and not only because of the unbearable heat of his body. But he loved how much it stinged everytime you hit him again. Beomgyu let out another loud moan when you slapped his cock over his clothes this time, and you shoved two fingers inside his mouth, smirking at the way he gagged around them, and at how quickly his eyes welled up with tears.
“- I said, beg for it. Are you ready to be good now ?”
You slapped his hard on once more, staring at his face when a tear rolled down his left cheek, saliva starting to drip down his chin and neck. When you pulled your fingers out, he was a mess, and you knew you had finally ruined him for the day.
“- Please, please miss I’ll be your good boy now, I’ll do everything you want, just let me cum please, please !
- There we go baby, was it so difficult, uh ?”
When you slipped your hand in his boxer to touch him for real after having been deprived from the skin to skin contact for such a long time made him cry out so loud you had to shut him up with your fingers again, fearing that someone would hear him.
“- You want everyone to hear you, is that it ? Screaming like the slut you are because you love the attention ?”
Beomgyu tried to protest, tried to say that he only wanted to be good for you, that he made all these noises because he knew you loved it when he was loud, but the pleasure was already overtaking his body and all his senses. The rush of adrenaline this situation was giving him made him feel so overwhelmed he felt like he could cum right now. He grabbed the only thing he could reach -  the fabric of your dress - to catch your attention, his muffled noises giving away how close he was to his release. 
“- What is it baby ? You’re close already ?”
You chuckled when he vigorously nodded his head, closing his eyes to focus on him and trying to delay his orgasm because you hadn’t given him permission to cum.
“- I’ll let you cum then, but on one condition baby. You’re gonna stain your pretty pants with your cum, and then we’re gonna leave. And if you follow my rules for once, I’ll reward you once we get home. Did you understand ?”
He nodded once again, his hips jerking into your hand as if they had a mind on their own. 
“- Then go on baby, cum all over yourself, be my good boy.”
The last praise that you whispered in his ear did it for him. He came all over your hand and himself, a wet patch quickly forming on his blue jeans as he whined around your fingers, his own hands tugging on the material of your dress to pull you closer to him. Before he could even register what you were doing, you showed him your hand covered in his cum, and Beomgyu didn’t need you to ask him before he started cleaning you off, eating his own release from your skin. Once you were satisfied, you finally detached his hands, letting him pull you into a hug and bury his head against your stomach while you threaded your fingers through his hair. 
“- You did so good for me baby, such a good boy.”
He hummed in agreement, his hands sliding from your lower back to your ass, giving them a squeeze. 
“- Does this mean I earned my reward ?
- Don’t get too confident now, you still have to make it up to me for ruining my night out with my friends.”
And Beomgyu agreed with you, because that meant he would spend the next two hours with his head buried between your thighs - his favorite way to apologize.
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-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my works.
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txt taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@bbgnyx @hann1bee @iraisswiftie @lichyuu @foxinnie8
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somerandommess · 2 days
Text
Maxiel au 1400 words
Spies? Hitman? one of them. Idk where this came from but I really want to see what happens next, sadly I’m the one who has to write what happens next. Also, the maxiel is kind of implied…imaginary, almost. Pre relationship kind of. Squint while using a magnifying glass and you’ll see it.
inspired by the adore you verse (@onboardsorasora ) literally so good.
Max walked through the hotel corridors, tapping an envelope in his hand as he went. He kept his head on a swivel mainly to check if anyone was following him, but also to keep an eye out for the room he was looking for.
Suddenly a door opened behind him and he immediately tensed, turning his head around to see who it was. A man in a grey suit walked out talking loudly into his phone. The guy paid him no mind, but he still watched as he made sure he got into the elevator and the doors closed.
A minute passed and he tried to make himself relax. He brought his shoulders down from his ears and removed his hand that, on reflex, went to his gun holster.
He hadn’t always been like this. Two years ago you wouldn’t catch him using a gun. It made things too easy. However, recent events made him pick it up again. That, and the bullet wound in his arm made him decide that he doesn’t care if guns made things easy; getting shot fucking hurt.
He shook out his arms and continued walking.
330…331…332…
He stopped infront the door.
333.
He looked down at himself, his dress shoes had flecks of blood on them and his pants were a little dusty. He frowned but decided he looked good enough. He had stolen a shirt from house keeping earlier, but threw away the nameplate.
Sorry Jerry D. , but he needed to look presentable for what he was about to do.
He knocked on the door.
No answer.
He waited and leaned closer to try and hear if anyone was moving around.
Nothing.
He knows that there’s someone in there because the front desk said they hadn’t checked out yet.
He realizes now that the front desk could have been lying.
He knocks again. This time he hears a thud and mumbling. No one opens the door.
Max has had enough of this.
“Listen I know you’re in there. I have something you want,” he hears the click of a lock, and smiles a bit, “Daniel-“
The door flies open and he’s pulled inside and thrown face first to the floor. He couldn’t catch himself as it was so unexpected and he curses himself for it.
He rolls onto his back and reaches for his gun to shoot-
The gun isn’t there. It’s being pointed in his face.
He leans back on his elbows, “Daniel”
The click of the safety goes off.
Max gulps.
Daniel is in jeans and nothing else. His chest is badly bruised (broken ribs?) and he’s sporting a black eye. He holds the gun in his left hand while the right stays at his side, his trigger and middle finger bandaged together.
With his injuries Max expects his hand to shake, it remains steady.
“Did Zak send you?” Daniel asks.
“No one sent me. I came looking for you.”
“Bullshit”
Max tries to get up, but Daniel fires a shot in the space between his legs.
“What the fuck” he scoots back till he hits the wall, “Do you know whose hotel this is? You can’t shoot me!”
Daniel scoffs, “I didn’t shoot you. I almost shot you, there’s a difference. And Toto knows I’m here, he won’t mind” he waves the gun around before sighing.
He tucks the gun into the waistband of his jeans and sits on the bed. He passes a hand through his hair and looks at the floor.
“What are you doing here Max?”
Max gets to his feet and walks over to the doorway where the envelope he was carrying fell. He picks it up and hands it to Daniel. He doesn’t take it so he rests it next to him on the bed.
“Sebastian has an offer for you. A way out… Revenge.”
Daniel takes the envelope, “Revenge? Last time I tried that they broke my jaw”
Max puts his hands in his pockets, “You won’t be the only one. Fernando went rogue, took Stroll with him. Even George left. He blew up HQ to show he was serious”
He looks at Max surprised. “Russell George…” he murmurs.
Max turns and watches Daniel through the mirror by the door. He watches as he opens the envelope and pulls the paper out halfway. He averts his eyes from the paper but he doesn’t miss the fond look Daniel gives as he reads the letter. Seb has always shown his love for Daniel in his own way.
Daniel puts the letter back and closes the envelope.
“So, what do you want revenge for?”
Max blinks, “Pardon?”
Daniel gets up and stands just behind him.
“I know why I want revenge, and I'm assuming everyone is either getting out or wants revenge. Which one is on your to-do list?”
Max turns and faces him, “You know what they say about assuming,”
Daniel hums and turns to get a shirt from his duffel on the floor. He groans as he stoops and Max wills himself to stay put.
He pulls out a blue party shirt with pineapples and struggles to put it on.
Max can’t take it anymore so he helps him get it over his head. Focusing his eyes on anywhere but Daniels exposed body. When he’s done they’re standing eye to eye and he tries to convince himself that Daniel did not just look at his lips.
Max breaks the silence, “You getting your revenge is enough for me.”
They stand there before Daniel blinks like he remembers something.
“How long ago did George blow up HQ?”
“Yesterday?”
“You think since he you know…that Toto…” he trails off and looks around the hotel room.
“Might try and kill you? Yes” Max finishes.
“We should leave”
“Yes”
They move around the room like a well oiled machine. Max gathering anything belonging to Daniel and shoving it into his suitcase, and Daniel taking note of his various IDs in his duffel.
They leave the room in a hurry, and Daniel is still shoving his feet into sneakers when they reach the stairwell.
They reach downstairs to the car park and Daniel whistles when he sees Maxs car.
Max rolls his eyes and shoves the suitcase onto the backseat with his own.
When he gets in, Daniel is running his hands on every surface.
“It’s just car Daniel”
“A very nice car. Stolen?”
“Rental” he starts it and revs it just to see Daniels reaction.
Daniel laughs and leans back. Max peels out of there with a drift.
A few minutes into the ride, Daniel takes the gun from his pants and tosses it into Maxs lap.
Max tries not to swerve, “It could have gone off!” he curses in Dutch.
“Safety was on”
Max takes the gun and puts it in between them next to the gear stick.
He takes the next left to the airport and Daniel freezes.
“I can’t exactly get on a plane right now. I have people looking for me”
Max rolls his eyes, “Everyone’s looking for you,”
Daniel tenses, “I mean more recently. They’re kind of upset that I stole from them. I can’t fly commercial”
“We’re not” Max says simply.
Daniel goes for the gun and points it at him. Max isn’t fazed.
“We’re flying private”
—-
“Since when did you get a jet?” Daniel watches in shock and awe as they pull up to the aircraft.
“It wasn’t my idea.” They both watch as the door opens and someone comes down the steps.
Max barely has time to put the vehicle into park before Daniel opens the door and steps out.
“Charlie?!”
Charles turns his head, “Daniel!”
They run and hug each other while Max rolls his eyes for what feels like the twentieth time today.
“Where have you been? Last I heard you were in Canada doing wet-work with Scotty”
“That was a year ago”
Charles sighs, “It’s been hard to keep in touch with you,”
Daniel feels guilty, and it must show because then Charles pats him on the back and shoves him up the stairs of the plane.
Max follows carrying two suitcases and a duffel bag.
They get settled and Daniel drinks two glasses of champagne.
Charles comes back from speaking with the captain and sits across from him and Max.
“I’m sure you have questions-“
Daniel cuts him off,
“Just one for now,” he taps the window, “where are we going?”
“London” Max answers easily.
“London? What’s in London?”
——
Not beta read
What’s in London? We may never know.
it’s Lewis. He’s in London and he brings them to a base, explanations happen, flashbacks. We find out- [gunshot]
I’ll stop
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clubdionysus · 1 day
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[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers
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warnings: alcohol, clubbing
soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland
wc: 3.5k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."
The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.
"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame
The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in. 
You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."
"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"
"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"
"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips. 
You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.
"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."
Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you. 
"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."
"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes. 
You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night. 
The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.
From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball. 
He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic. 
Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it. 
Especially the bartenders. 
"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"
A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid. 
What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.
It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.
"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."
Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."
It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.
It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.
And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade. 
"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.
You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar. 
He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy. 
Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.
"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?" 
Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"
"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.
"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning. 
"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."
He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.
"I'm joking, you idiot."
Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point. 
"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"
"Don't like orange juice."
"Do you like anything?"
You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.
You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.  
But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol." 
He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."
Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?
He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.
"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.
"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."
"Are we fine dining?"
"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."
Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"
You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.
Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore. 
"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."
You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet. 
"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."
"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it. 
When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.
"Thirsty," you shrug. 
He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.
He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery. 
Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."
The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"
"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."
You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye. 
He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"
"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."
Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."
From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.
Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house. 
10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."
He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too. 
You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?
Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."
And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts. 
"If he doesn't take her home, I will."
"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."
"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."
Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much. 
Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar. 
That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.
You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.
"On the house."
"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.
"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."
Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.
And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.
"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate. 
"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."
Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends. 
The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.
Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.
Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"
Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature. 
"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.
"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."
"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"
"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week. 
He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.
"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"
Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least. 
And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.
"Purple Starfucker time."
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT
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justauthoring · 3 hours
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a promise he'll keep.
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requested! -> also “who did this to you” with astarion would go absolutely bonkers. food for thought requested by! -> @the-sunflower-room
a/n -> thank you for your request! i saw your other one as well and definitely plan on writing it hopefully soon! also! i literally have been in love with this man since the game came out but im so nervous about writing for him i never gained the courage... tho, meeting neil yesterday made it feel like its only write i finally commit and write to him!
tw -> mention of blood, bruises and cuts/violence
pairing -> astarion x f!reader/tav
blood poured from the rather large cut across the side of your forehead, staining your skin and seeping into the tiny cuts littered across your cheek and jaw. bruises lined your neck, in the shape of a hands, and astarion was sure that the rest of your body mimicked the damage across your face.
armour torn, shaking and hurt, astarion's heart burns with a rage he's not felt in a long time.
long ago had he forgotten about the bloodlust of fighting. long ago had he healed from the trauma of his past. years had passed since astarion had first met you and years had passed since the both of you, along with the rest of your companions, healed yourselves from the parasites in your mind and effectively, saved the world.
your bodies had never quite healed though. the trauma of what you'd both experienced had never faded and most likely never would. you'd both accepted that as a fact of your lives and used each other as a means of healing from it.
it had been years since astarion has seen you bloodied and hurt like this, and it feels ten times worse then it ever had before. never a fighter, the second you'd no longer been forced to fight for survival, astarion knows you'd given up that part of your life.
you were strong. there was no doubting that. you could hold yourself and you'd proved that well enough given what you'd done for the world and most importantly, your companions. more than anything, you'd proved that with how you saved astarion from his tormentor and the horror of his past.
but you look so vulnerable in that moment; broken and hurt and bruised and his chest tightens, nails digging into the palms of his hands as the rage coarses through him, burning his veins and has him desperate to make whoever hurt you pay.
painfully.
"who..." and his words hesitate, the fire his chest making it hard to find his words. he doesn't want you to think any of his anger is directed at you... "who did this to you?"
you twitch at his words, arms coming around to hold yourself as you shiver, hesitating.
astarion's face falls.
taking a step towards you, he reaches out for you, hands moving to cup your cheeks, gently and wary of your wounds. he worries you'll pull away, given how afraid you are, but you know astarion and recognize his touch and some of the rage fades with concern and love for you as you lean into his touch.
his fingers work to brush the blood from your face, get rid of the dirt and grime that clings to your skin and tries to soothe you.
your eyes flutter shut in response.
"i'm sorry," astarion whispers. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to scare you."
you shake your head, humming in disagreement. "you didn't scare me."
astarion hates the way your voice trembles.
"i don't want you getting hurt for me," you explain. "you don't deserve that."
and astarion shakes his head. "it doesn't matter if it's you." he assures and he frowns when he realizes he might've not made that clear enough. he had a lot to make up for if you think that he wouldn't do anything for you. "i can't let them get away with hurting you like this."
"i'm okay," you try to deny.
astarion just tightens his grip on you, not enough to hurt you, of course, but enough to pull your attention on him. "you're not," he argues, desperate for you to understand how much it pains him to see you hurt like this. "you're bleeding, y/n. and fuck... you're hurt, badly. it breaks my heart to see you like this."
your eyes fall on him at that. wide eyes meeting his own as your lips part, as if shocked by his admission. maybe shocked wasn't the word—he likes to think the expression on your face is one of reassurance at how much his heart burns with love for you.
the tears that you'd been holding back fall then, your bravety and strength fading at astarion's warming and soothing words. they build at the corner of your eyes and astarion is quick to brush them away.
"i'll never let them hurt you again," he promises then, meaning every word of what he says. he says them with confidence, desperation and sincerity, eyes softening with a plea as he holds onto you, afraid you might slip from his very fingers. "them or anyone else."
your hand grabs his, squeezing.
"i know," you whisper, "this isn't your fault."
he just shakes his head; "it's whoever did this to you's fault," he assures, although the twinge of guilt that festers in his belly is undeniable. he should've been there with you, keeping you safe; even if you knew you were capable of keeping yourself safe... having him there would've assured him and would've stopped this from ever happening.
"y/n," he calls again, voice soft, measured and even as he stares into your eyes and doesn't let you pull away. "who did this to you?"
and your lips part, breathing shakily but there's an ease that washes across your expression and then the names of the men who hurt you come pouring from your lips.
astarion memorizies them, keeps them trapped in his mind as he nods. "thank you." and he is thankful. thankful that you trust him to do what he'd promised. thankful that you know he won't fail you.
"i'll make it better, okay?" he whispers, his thumb stroking across your cheek as he pulls you into his arms, a hand falling on the back of your neck to press you into his chest. "i promise."
you hum your response, leaning into his touch before letting him guide towards your home so he can dress and clean your wounds.
and most importanly, shower you in the love you deserve.
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brazen-kenobi · 3 months
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wanting and being wanted
sources:
1. chaandajaan // 2. schuylerpeck // 3. phantom pain by caitlin conlon // 4. desperation sits heavy on my tongue by a.m // 5. what I could never confess without some bravado by emily palermo // 6. are_you_okay66 on tiktok // 7. ashstfu // 8. lily rain @/lilyrainpoetry on insta // 9. love as an act of merciful conquer by silas denver melvin // 10. 300122 by @ryebreadgf
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anglerflsh · 1 year
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If the lord won’t let me die for something / I can live to prove I’m worthy / Make his sacrifice my own
I know how you felt, now, your pain was a penance / A prayer’s a deception unless it’s a groan
(Litany of the Martyrs, from the Adamandi musical)
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p4nishers · 9 months
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let me just say this: if crowley EVER makes an actual move on aziraphale and aziraphale gives even a HINT of reciprocation it's over for him in SECONDS bc u know aziraphale half asses nothing so it'll be like crowley tries to brush their fingers together and aziraphale fully beams at him and interlocks their fingers in seconds. crowley stares speechlessly at their hands for 5 minutes, looks up at aziraphale and faints. crowley gets aziraphale flowers and aziraphale puts them in the very center of his shop where everyone can see and keeps them alive for months. crowley fights a giggle every time he sees them. crowley offers his jacket on a cold night and aziraphale wears the jacket everywhere for weeks and gushes about it to everyone he meets. crowley chokes on his breath every meeting aziraphale is in it without fail. crowley slyly asks aziraphale on an actual romantic date and aziraphale SLAMS down their wedding invitations infort him of like "im so glad u asked, dear, i've been waiting for this" then launches into a rant about flower arrangements and table cloth colors and crowley is left blinking at him and trying not to explode. poor snake.
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erlandious · 7 months
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If I’m ever talking to y’all and I either have a slow/short response or just don’t respond at all, I’d like to say that I am simply Nervous, especially on call. Either that or I didn’t hear you because there was too much noise and/or I zoned out. But most of the time I’m just nervous
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frecklystars · 9 months
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When there’s a high quality version of the Barbie movie out for me to 🏴‍☠️ it’s over for everyone. You know how many gifs I’m going to make of Ken???? [counting on fingers] at LEAST... four
#ok spoilers in the tags incoming#every time I see the movie I want so badly to gif that part where#he is on the beach goin to war and he’s shaking. eye twitching. breathing erratically#and his dancing AGH i wanna gif those body rolls so baddddd it's so hot#or when he stabs his chest that move is so good too. but luckily that gif is already out there#I want to gif the part where he’s crying his eyes out and he looks down at his trembling hands and clutching them to his heart#and you SEE those tears on his face and his breath is hitching and he looks so fukcin BROKEN#BRO-KEN IF YOU WILL.#I hype myself up for literally every single scene he’s in#doesn’t matter what he’s doing in the scene he does SOMETHING cute or funny#whether it’s a laugh or a way he moves his hands or the way he tilts his head...#there is always something that catches my attention and holds it so tightly#like literally almost every single line he says is so fucking funny#or the way he looks at barbie while he's walking away and not takin his eyes off her#THE BOW? WHEN THE LADY ASKED HIM FOR THE TIME? AND HE BOWED SAYING 'I SHALL SEEK MY FORTUNE THERE'?#LIKE HONEY BABYGIRL ANGEL DARLING SWEETHEART WHAT WAS THAT. AND CAN YOU DO IT AGAIN#'I have all the genitals' knocks me out every time#and not even just funny moments but the moments where he's DEVASTATED I live for that shit#him breaking down yelling 'NO *YOU* FAILED *ME' while SHAKING and then he falls onto his knees#i really went into this movie not expecting anything. but most of all i didnt expect to be THIS in love with Ken of all characters#I really entered that theater expecting Barbie to be my main f/o and yeah she is one. but the MAIN main f/o is Ken??????#that’s when you know it’s a good movie when you make me give a shit about a Ken doll#barbie movie spoilers#woof#love notes#that being said can anyone let me know if u find a HD version of the movie floating around...#i only see ppl recording the movie screen w/ their phone dfjsfjdf
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june-again · 2 months
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i'm unwell over Firebird.... this is brilliant, every moment of it
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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Sick of jerking off to porn now i just look up pictures of kiryu in his little grey tracksuit whenever i need to cum
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iniziare · 1 year
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Question: Sae, how do you feel about fanon takes for Tifa Lockhart? Me: I hate this place, I hate it here. I want to burn it all.
... Half of my tags were eaten alive. I oppose this.
#[ out of character. ] whatever. i don't really care. i'm just gonna sit this one out.#[ that's a lie-- i'm not gonna sit this one out. i don't wanna sit stuff out anymore. ]#[ i'm angy and the world must know-- am i going back to 2016/2017 sae; who am i. ]#[ i'm shaking at fanon takes. fucking save me. ]#[ i perpetually have salt shakers lodged in the palms of my hands. ]#[ listen-- i have respect for people's portrayals. i do. ]#[ except i don't when you misread a character so badly that you forego the very basis of their entire character arc. ]#[ this throws me back to the days when i made ezio because i read that someone thought he /enjoyed/ revenge. ]#[ like no i don't respect that. i don't respect that shit because you have such an abysmal take on the very foundation-- ]#[ of a character. ]#[ i don't care what you /want/ a character to be or do. that stands /entirely separate/ from what a character actually is or will do. ]#[ i need people to hear me on this one. ]#[ /your opinion is not fact/. ]#[ and yes i know people will go 'but sae this is your opinion--' ]#[ i'm going to throw these salt shakers-- what even is my salt tag. please blacklist this. ]#[ salt. ] If there were such a thing as terminal literalism; you'd have died in childhood.#[ god who was it on my dash the other day who said this-- but i take such immense offense to... ]#[ this concept of 'everyone's take is their own opinion'-- i'm sorry. what is critically analyzing material. ]#[ am i just pulling shit out of my ass here? ]#[ am i-- who claims to be canon strict and do /nothing/ if there's no strict basis for it within canon-- ]#[ am i held in the same regard as someone who just goes 'eh-- well i don't like what canon does SO I'M GONNA BE HEADCANON-BASED'. ]#[ no?? ]#[ no. please don't. then why am i here-- why am i here? ]#[ if not to analyze the shit out of these characters-- keeping what creators might actually intend for them; based on intricacies shown...#[ within canon material? ]#[ i'm sorry-- no. i'll stand here and die on the hill where i say that not all portrayals are even. ]#[ i'll bring that damn post back out that people were supporting for a while. ]#[ about this very topic (except remove the little extremes). ]#[ i also literally was salting about this in call a while ago; i don't respect your bad takes. ]#[ i don't respect your bad takes when they actively disrespect a character? why should i respect that? ]
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