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#i do need to beat the absolute shit out of him and have him loose all his fucks to give about anything
ja3yun · 3 months
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Undercover Lover | P.JS
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detective!jay x detective fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), !!rough!!, choking, throat fucking, tit slapping, pure filth, , jay gets like super angry (but he's secretly a sweet soul), swearing, slight mention of alcohol, not proofread.
wc: 9k+
synopsis: you've been forced to work with your work rival, park jongseong, on a case that could bust one of the biggest dealer in seoul, but things don't go according to plan.
(part 2)
a/n: hi! it's me, just giving you a little something while you wait for the sunghoon fic <3 this was originally part of a bigger plot but i didn't finish writing it. Also, if you've ever seen Just Go With It, the dinner scene might be a little familiar since i based it very loosely on it. i hope you like it, it's a bit rough and isn't the best well written because you know i thrive on lovey dovey simp men, regardless, enjoy!
“I cannot believe I got stuck with you on the assignment”
“Feeling is fucking mutual, Park.” 
When your boss told you’d be working with Park Jongseong you protested to the high heavens, and you downright refused when he told you that you would have to pretend to be his wife.
“Absolutely not.” you crossed your arms in a huff, not even sparing a glance at either of the men in the room.
Heeseung groans loudly, “Listen, don’t give me shit okay, I already had it from him,” He points to Jongseong who is leaning casually on the office door, as if barricading you from an easy escape, “You’re the only female on the squad that isn’t on a major assignment right now.” 
“Why can’t he just do it himself?” You ask.
“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not buzzed about this either but Kim Kwangmin invited me and my ‘wife’ to a private dinner and overnight stay, and in case you haven’t noticed I haven’t got one of those.” Jongseong pushes himself from the wall as he speaks to you.
Jongseong is undercover to do a massive drug bust that won’t only take down one of the biggest suppliers and dealers in Seoul but also get your department a massive boost in funding and recognition. It was a big deal to your boss and the whole department. You just had to work with your biggest rival in the precinct. 
“Just tell them your ‘wife’ is sick.” You claw to find any excuse not to do this. It wasn’t just pretending to be his wife but the scenario in which you have to; you can’t possibly sit in his company and pretend to be in love with him for a whole dinner.
“It’s either that or I'll suspend you,” Heeseung warns.
“Hee, you can’t do that! It’s unjust suspension.” You proclaim, standing up.
“Yeah, and I’ll file the paperwork,” Heeseung stands to mirror your challenging stance, “You will be Jongseong’s wife. End of story.”
So here you are in his hired car as he drives you to the hotel in the middle of nowhere. In a way, you understand why they basically forced you to do this, the payout would be phenomenal, but you still grudge it.
The drive up has been anything but pleasant. You and Jongseong can’t agree on anything, not even the radio station, so you’ve been in silence for 3 hours, only barking out judgments of his driving or telling him how awful the idea is.
Pulling up to the hotel you stare in awe, it’s a whole different level than you’re used to, the tall white building that looks more like a castle beats every Premier Inn or Motel 6 you’ve been forced to occupy. Despite not seeing the inside, you can already guess the marble detailing and artwork on the ceilings, like something out of a princess movie. 
You’re too busy gawking to realise the car has come to a halt and Jongseong is stepping out of the car, the only thing that alerts you is the unnecessarily loud bang as he slams the door shut behind him. 
Opening the passenger door, you walk around the car to meet him as he flips open the boot to take your suitcase out. Inside, you had everything you’d need for 2 nights: dinner dresses, heels, pyjamas, guns, and handcuffs - all the necessities for a weekend away with your ‘husband’.
Jongseong pulls out your case with one hand and examines it, looking at you quizzically. You don’t understand what he’s so puzzled about, it’s just a suitcase, “What?” you finally ask since he won’t give it to you.
“It’s fluorescent pink…with fucking daisies on it.” His eyes are ridiculing as he looks between you and the case. 
“So what?” You nab it from his grip and wipe it down. A few years ago you had seen the suitcase in a shop window and instantly fell in love with it and had to have it, no matter the cost. Petunia has never left your side since, and being on this assignment wasn’t going to change that.
“You’re supposed to be my wife, not my daughter,” he snarks, pointing dramatically to the semi-childish suitcase, “We are going to meet with the most powerful drug lord in all of Seoul and you’re carrying around a Dora the Explorer bag.” 
You take offence, of course, you would, how dare he compare Petunia to a children's cartoon backpack, “Don’t speak about her like that, she’s got feelings.” 
Jongseong’s face deadpans as you stomp away. He quickly retrieves his own luggage and locks his car before chasing after you. Opposite to your luggage, his is a sleek, black metallic case, that matches his personality - cold and hard. Somehow, your suitcases said everything about each of you.
“You aren’t seriously upset are you?” He asks, pulling you back before you get to the main door, “Look, you can’t fucking blow this for me, okay? I’ve spent months on this case and if we aren’t on the same page, he’ll guess something is up.” 
You want to slap him right now because his tone is so condescending, it’s infuriating, “Apologise.” You face him, eyes tough as they look into his pupils.
Jongseong groans and almost throws a tantrum. Grabbing your arm he takes you to the side, all too well aware how anyone could see you two bickering. He didn’t need this to be the reason he lost this assignment, “Fuck, look, I’m sorry for slagging off your suitcase, okay?” 
But you don’t budge, eyebrows lifted expectantly. Your eyes point down to the pink case, “Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Petunia.”
“Petu-, what the fuck are you talking about, Y/N? I am not saying sorry to a fucking case.” He is going red in the face, frustration coursing through his veins. “Are you really going to be that childish right now?”
You stand your ground, waiting for him. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, hands on his waist once he comes to understand you are not going to let it up. He is going to have to apologise to an inanimate object if he wants to proceed with the weekend, “If I say sorry to…Petunia…will you please start cooperating with me?” As you nod, he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, “Okay, I am really sorry Petunia, I think you’re a lovely suitcase.” 
Feeling accomplished, you grasp the handle of your case and smile, "She accepts." You walk away smugly, head held high, leaving him behind to head to the front doors again, this time with a spring in your step. When you return to the office, you will gladly inform the girls in admin about this.
As you and Jongseong walk into the building, it is exactly how you described it, classic and grand with a bustle of wealthy people. Suddenly, the jeans and blouse you’re wearing don’t fit right on your body. 
Something touches your hand and you yank it away quickly, almost going into defence mode before you look down to see Jongseong’s hand stretched out beside you.
He looks down at his empty hand and back up to you, his face serious, “Take my hand,” He asks, bored of this conversation already.
“Ew, why?” 
“What do you mean ‘why’, you’re my wife, remember?” Oh, yeah…you suppose the charade started as soon as you walked through the massive turnstile door. Sighing, he takes your hand again except this time he successfully intertwines his fingers with yours, the feeling of your hand in his is foreign and peculiar, he doesn’t think he’s ever held hands like this with someone despite being in his 20s, “You ready?”
With a quick nod, you both make your way to the reception desk. The woman behind the counter is physically flawless. The pinned-up hair and her faux mink lashes fanned across her eyes making her gaze sultry, and her plump lips were upturned into a generous smile. 
You could tell Jongseong was a bit taken aback by her beauty because it took him a minute of staring before gathering his words, “Hi, we have a reservation, should be under Hwangs. I believe Mr. Kim Kwangmin arranged everything.”
As soon as he says the criminal’s name, the receptionist straightens her back, face whitening a little. She clearly knew of his nature and like most of the city, she did not want to mess him about. Usually in fancy establishments like this, they ask to see ID before checking people in, but not this time, the girl was too flustered to do anything other than nod and rearrange her desk. It’s lucky for you she didn’t ask for ID considering your undercover operations unit didn’t have time to muster up any fake passports due to the suddenness of the invitation. 
Your aliases for this case are the Hwangs. Apparently, you’ve been married for a year, dating for 3, and dotingly in love with one another. Jongseong is new money, he inherited it from his late Uncle who passed away. Kim Kwangmin prayed on people who had more money than sense, enticing them to create fake companies where he could ship drugs from A to B. That’s why it’s been so hard to catch him because he’s never the name on the papers. But if Jongseong can get him to talk about it in detail, he’s got him behind bars. 
The conversation of a wife came up randomly in conversation, Kwangmin is a family man who loves his wife and kids, and for Jongseong to gain his trust he spouted a load of bullshit about how he was in the world’s most perfect marriage with the love of his life. He doesn’t know why it worked, but he isn’t going to question it now.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hwang, you’ll be in the Ambassador Suite as per Mr. Kim’s written request. I’ll call someone to escort you and take your bags,” She points with her hand to the lift while two men come up to take your things, “If you make your way to the private elevator,”
Jongseong thanks her, bowing as he takes your hand again. All eyes are on you already but that isn’t surprising, it would be more bewildering if no one was watching you considering you’re the prestigious guest of a drug king.
You both get up to your Suite and it is unreal. The lift opens directly into the room and you’re met with nothing but luxury. Perhaps this assignment did come with some perks. Taking your shoes off, you whisper a little ‘wow’ as you look around, the clean cream carpets feel like you are stepping on a cloud, you almost don’t want to put on the complimentary slippers that are waiting for you, but you do anyway, trying to soak up as much of this experience as possible.
Jongseong walks straight ahead, not even soaking in the embellishments of the Suite. He wasn’t one for blissfully looking around, he had a job to do after all. 
You do a quick tour of the place before you hear Jongseong groan, “For fuck sake.”
“Hmm?” You prance over to him, still in a dream-like state from all the luxury and elegance, “What is it?”
“Look,” He keeps staring in front of him as you join him to look at the bed. It looks so inviting, the rich Egyptian cotton throws and fluffy pillows make you want to jump on the bed. So you do.
You take a step back before launching yourself onto it, squealing out a soft ‘wee!’ as if you’re a kid shooting down a slide in the playpark. The way you’re acting is perfectly representative of your luggage but you don’t care, you’re far too busy doing snow angels on the soft duvet, “What’s the issue? This is perfect,” You roll around a few times to really soak it in.
“Just wondering if you’ve had a look around,” He twirls his finger in a circle, looking at you disappointedly.
“Yeah! There’s a bath, a bar, a lounge area bigger than my house,” You go on listing everything you saw. 
“Mhmm, and was there another bed?” He asks.
You think, “No I didn’t see-”. Okay, you see the issue now. There was only one bed. With an annoyed scowl, he shook his head at the sheer obviousness of the situation, as if he was frustrated he even had to address it. 
Sharing a bed was the last thing any of you wanted, so you had to come to an agreement, however, both of you seemed to be thinking the same thing. “You can take the couch.” You both say at the exact same time and it creates an eerie silence in the bedroom.
“This is my assignment, I get the bed.” He argues, walking around to grab you and throw you off, but you use your weight against him, playing dead.
“No! I was forced here, my job was being put on the line, so this is my bed.” While you protest, he’s climbing on the bed, pulling at you to get off, his hands gripping your wrist to heave you off, but you won’t go down without a fight. Kicking your legs, you try to boot him off you, but he’s strong and half of you is off the bed already, “Jongseong! Let go!”
“Stop being a baby and let me have the bed!” He fights back. The hold he has you in is representative of a bodyslam that wrestlers would do in the ring, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, “Come on, Y/N. Give it up.”
With a swift kick, you boot him in the balls, causing him to groan and roll over, body going limp. Panicked, you sit up and check him, “Shit, Jongseong, you good?” But he doesn’t say anything, instead clutching his goods, face screwed in pain. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean over him, checking his pulse. He might be dead, he hasn’t moved for a hot minute.
Jongseong breathes out, trying to dull the pain. You played dirty, he respected it, but his dick didn’t. 
“Jongseong, hey, I didn’t mea-”
You don’t get to finish your apology because he’s suddenly got his hands on your shoulders and flipping you both around so now you’re the one on your back, his body weight keeping you down, “What the fuck was that?!”
Laughing you let out a pathetic ‘sorry’ but Jongseong isn’t amused. However, the snorts coming from your mouth sweeten his distaste for the situation a little. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shocked at the noises you’ve just made. Staring at each other, you both hit a fit of giggles. You haven’t snort-laughed in so long, not since a girl's night back at the beginning of the year. 
Once the hilarity dies down, you look up at him still hovering over you, the heat from his body bringing a flush to your face that you hope you can pass off as a lack of oxygen from the giggling. However, when he meets your gaze, you notice the same blushed colour across his cheeks. You swear for a whole second he looks handsome, like he has a face you don’t want to punch for once. 
This Jongseong right now shows an unexpected softness in his gaze which brings back memories of when you met him for the first time at the precinct. Back then, he was full of life, free of the responsibilities of the job. For a brief moment, it feels like you've caught a glimpse of a different, more approachable side of him.
Suddenly, his decoy phone he’s been using undercover rings loudly, startling you both off the bed and helping you regain your sense of judgment because the way you were starting to think about Jongseong as he lay on top of you was…It will never happen again.
“That is my bed. Period.” He says, swiping to answer the call on his phone.
Fixing yourself, you do your best to ignore what just happened, grabbing your case from the front door and unpacking it on your bed. 
He walks back into the room and chucks his phone on the bedside table, “Kim wants us for dinner at 8pm sharp. Go get changed.” There he is, the usual mean and cold Park Jongseong. Any feelings you felt earlier are gone with the wind because this is who he truly is. He doesn’t even spare you another look before he leaves to get ready himself.
Just two nights, that’s all it is. 
_______
8pm comes faster than you thought and as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss to your lips, you hear Jongseong complaining about how you will both be late. Instead of paying him any mind, you give yourself the once over in the bathroom mirror. Your makeup is smoky and sultry, and your hair is curled loosely since you didn't have the time to fight with bobby pins to put it in an updo. The dress you’re wearing is a little over the top but when you read the case file you noticed how Mr. Kim loved extravagant, and boy was this dress just that. The black body-con, dinner dress hugged you perfectly and accentuated all the right places, a bold slit travels up your thigh which reveals just enough skin with each stride, and the sweetheart cut paired with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves just add to the drama of it all. You looked like you stepped out of a James Bond movie, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.
“Can you please hurry up,” An impatient Jongseong bangs on the bathroom door.
“Relax, oh my god!” You place the lip gloss in your matching silk bag and walk out to greet your ‘husband’. 
“About fucking time.” He mumbles, looking at his watch, “We need to…go.” His words trail off as he finally sets his eyes on you, “Woah.”
“I look good, huh? Can I pass for a millionaire’s wife?” You twirl, widening the slit to show more of your leg and Jongseong’s jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s so used to you in athleisure wear or jeans with your hair held together by a claw clip that’s missing two prongs, he didn’t think you could look so elegant, so beautiful.
Floating over to him, you place your two fingers under his jaw and close his mouth, “You’ll catch flies, baby.”
Embarrassed, Jongseong regains his senses and swats your hand away, “Shut up. Let’s go.” He pushes you slightly to the door as you chuckle over how flustered he is. It did make you feel a little bit sexier than you did before because if you can make Park Jongseong swoon, you’re definitely going to have the attention of Mr. Kim, and attention is all you need to gain a confession.
With your arm in his, Jongseong leads you to the dining room where you’re set to have dinner. He spent the elevator ride going over the plan. You had to act a little dumb, make him feel like he’s leading the conversation, and be all over your man. Of course, Jongseong would make his wife obsessed with him, he doesn’t get any action outside of this fantasy, well, that’s what you tell yourself. His personality is so repugnant that you can’t imagine anyone being with him. No matter how hot he is, especially in a suit.
His beauty in the tailor-made suit didn’t go unnoticed by you, he looked delicious, but he was still a prick, a prick that hated you.
The dining room is filled with upper-class cartels, all businessmen who would do anything to be on top. It makes you feel a little queasy, but you swallow it down and focus on your role. You state your business to the host and urgently, you’re shown to your table where Mr. and Mrs. Kim are already there. That’s a bad start, no one should ever be late for a meeting with Kim Kwangmin, and by late, that means he gets there before you.
"Mr. Kim, hello." Jongseong's stance is more poised than normal, but you can feel his nervousness. If he cracks this case, he will be the youngest detective to do anything of this magnitude, so you can appreciate what he is going through. In an attempt to reassure him, you swipe your thumb over his arm, which he only feels through his suit jacket. Nevertheless, he’s thankful for it.
Mr. Kim stands and reaches his hand out, “You’re late, Hwang.” 
“Apologies, Sir-”
“That was my fault, Mr. Kim. I made him change a few times. Every suit he was trying on was giving last fall, and I said to him ‘Babe, only the best from Mr. Kim’, Isn’t that right, Jjongie?” You don’t know why you took on the persona of a teenage girl who has a tweet count of 20k, but it seemed to do the trick because Kim Kwangmin is laughing.
“The things we’ll do for our girls, eh?” Mr. Kim says and Jongseong awkwardly laughs with him, nodding. When he looks down at you, his expression is appreciative, “Please, have a seat. I’ve ordered some entrees.” The man extends his arm as he sits himself.
Jongseong bows and pulls out your chair for you and as you sit down, he kisses your cheek lightly, the act of service making your stomach flutter.
This is going to be a long night.
And it was. Jongseong is getting nowhere, every time he tries to hint towards Mr. Kim’s dealings, the man just brushes him off, too busy talking about the stock market and other men in suits kind of chats. To be honest, you zoned out about 20 minutes ago, your fork rolling a pea across your plate. You hate business talk, it’s so mind-numbingly dull. Who cares about all of this, really?
“Ah, Jongseong, looks like I’ve bored your little lady,” Mr. Kim points out and it brings you back to attention. 
“Not at all, Sir, she just gets a little distracted, don’t you, Princess?” He tries to cover for you, eyes glaring at you. 
You giggle and stroke Jongseong’s arm, “I don’t get business talk, I just like the money.” Your fake honesty earns you another laugh from Mr. Kim, he has taken a shine to you throughout the dinner which works in your favour and this is your chance to try and wiggle something out of him, “My baby, spoils me but sometimes he’s so stingy with money.” You pout and Mrs. Kim raises her glass to your statement, clearly understanding your faked pain.
“Tut, tut, Jongseong, we should always spoil our girls.” He reprimands your husband and you nod eagerly, playing your dumb role quite well. If being a detective doesn’t work out, maybe you should try acting.
Jongseong strokes your head and laughs, “I treat her well, that’s why she married me. But I suppose I could venture into bigger waters to make sure she’s well looked after.” Cringe. Jongseong hates to speak about you like you’re nothing but an object, a black hole for his fake money because that’s absolutely not who you are, you’re the complete opposite. You’re strong and brave, and super smart. 
“Oh, Kwangie, let’s get them to do the love list?” 
Damn, that irritating wife of his. Jongseong had brilliantly set the tone for her husband to explain his inner connections, and she simply had to change the subject to what must only be the dumbest idea you've ever heard. You're not even sure what a love list is, but you don't want to participate.
Despite your inner monologue protesting the very thought, Mr. Kim doesn’t share your displeasement, “What a great idea! I tell you, it makes your marriage stronger than ever.” 
Mrs. Kim sees the confused look on both your faces, taking it as her opportunity to explain, “You look each other deep in the eyes, and whisper 3 things you love about one another. If you do it every day, you always see the good in them.” She looks proud as punch, clapping her hands lightly, “Go try it out!” She ushers you both together.
Even if this were a real marriage, why would anyone want to do this at all never mind in front of another couple they’ve just gotten to know? 
Desperately searching for a way out from this awkward charade, you turn to your husband for the weekend, only to find him sporting the same perplexed expression. If you two can't pull this off seamlessly, it's a sure bet that Kim will catch on. Throughout the night, Jongseong and you have been playing the part of lovers to perfection, and if the facade crumbles because you can't conjure up one genuine thing you both appreciate about each other, the entire plan goes to shit.
“C’mon you two, this should be easy, what with how you look at one another. Reminds me of a young us.” He looks at his wife and rubs his nose with hers. It’s hard to believe he is one of the scariest men in Seoul.
Jongseong puts one arm over the back of your seat and tugs you closer to him, staring at you, “I guess we could give it a shot, yeah?” Was he serious? The man hasn’t said one nice thing about you ever, and now he’s going to pluck three things out of his ass? This won’t work.
“Y/N, you go first.” 
Well, shit a brick and call it Mary. You are fucked.
Jongseong sees your worried expression and shakes his head as if telling you to keep it together. He leans into you, “Make up anything, even if it’s not real,” 
Three pairs of eyes stare at you, awaiting your love confessions. What do you appreciate about Park Jongseong? “Um, I think he’s really handsome?” The statement pops out like a question which seems to displease the couple opposite you.
“No, Y/N, start it with ‘I love’ and tell him little things that make you fall in love with him,” Mrs. Kim instructs, giving you another chance.
You cannot fuck it up this time. So you look deep into his eyes and search into him for your history, past all the bickering and agitation. His face softens, knowing this is putting you in an uncomfortable position, and it gives you a line, “I love that he knows when people around him are left out, and he tries to include them in every conversation so they feel seen.” 
Jongseong seems surprised by your answer, or more the sincerity of it. It was true though, you did appreciate that about him. One time, you were sitting as the only girl at the table having after work drinks, and not one of the guys included you in any of the banter, and when Jongseong noticed he pulled you into the conversation - albeit it was poking fun at you, but after that, the guys opened up around you.
Your eyes are still glued to his as you rhyme off another one, “I love that, when you’re not being uptight about things, your face loses its contours and you look so soft and squishy,” you laugh and pinch his cheek, “Like right now,” He hadn’t realised his hard shell had fallen as you spoke to him, making his appearance gentle. 
Giggling as he shakes you off, demeanour now shy, you think of a final one. This has been a lot easier than you thought, and you think you could probably say more than three now that your brain was on a roll.
“And I love the way you push me to be the best version of myself, even when I think your criticism is sometimes harsh and uncalled for, you make me want to be a better de-, person. I love that the most.” 
None of you let up eye contact as Mr. and Mrs. Kim applaud you, thankfully satisfied with your answers. Jongseong’s lips tug at the edges, giving you the first genuine smile of the night. He’s glad you managed to come up with things to keep the pair off your backs, but also because they were real things you liked about him. 
“Hwang, your turn. Tell your girl how you feel.” Kim instructs almost like he’s a love coach and you’re his patients. But Jongseong seems to forget that his alias has a different second name because he ignores the man and just keeps looking at you. You swear at one point he does the triangle method but you can’t be too sure.
“Jjongie?” You utter, voice just above a whisper, “Your turn,”
“I love,” He pauses, licking his lips, “I love that you give inanimate objects names, and care about them like they’re real people,” You laugh, recalling your previous events with your beloved Petunia, “In fact, the way you take care of everyone around you, and how you will do anything for anyone, I love that. That’s my first one.”
He sits with the next one for a while, making you nervous, but you don’t have to be, “I love how you put me in my place whenever my ego gets a little big. You keep me grounded without knowing it.”
You smile and pout at the same time, finding his words infiltrating your heart a little. Jongseong takes your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles gently as he finishes his love list, “I love…that you are by far one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the privilege to be around, inside and out.”
Oh, he is good.
The eye contact you’re both still holding is sparking a fire inside you, the warm feeling in your tummy makes you feel electric, like you could do anything. You’re both so engrossed in one another that you don’t hear the Kims leave, whispering how they should leave ‘you love birds to it’. 
You don’t know how long you sit there just looking at one another, but you think it must be about 10 minutes before you start to notice how quiet it is at your table. Breaking the contact first, you look around and see the man you’re after is gone, “Uh, Jongseong?” 
“Yeah, baby?” He’s still deep in his character, still focused on your side profile.
“They’re gone.” You state, pointing your head to the empty table. This is bad.
Jongseong finally removes his gaze from you to the problem and his face falls. How the fuck did they just sneak out like that? You daren’t look at him because you can already feel the anger radiating from his body. His jaw clenches and he bangs the table loudly, “Fuck!” 
Without a word, he stands up and storms out of the dining room and all the way up to your room, leaving you to waddle after him, not used to the heels you’re in. He is pissed, no he’s livid, seething at the fact his opportunity to get the dirt on the man he’s been after for 8 months just slipped away like water in a sieve. How could you both be so reckless? This never happens to him.
He swipes the key in the door and angrily strips himself of his shoes and jacket, not caring about anything other than how he can make this right. Before the door closes, you catch it, stepping into the room and following him quietly. You don’t know the best way to approach him.
“Jongseong, we still have tomorrow.”
“Like fuck we do, Y/N! This was the dinner to get in on his schemes, to finally get something on the guy I’ve been stuck kissing ass to for months!” He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs it harshly, “If you weren’t so fucking incompetent.”
“ME?! I didn’t do shit,” You argue back, offended. How can he blame this solely on you? As if he wasn’t the main part of this.
He spins and points to you, “You did plenty! Why didn’t you just make a load of shit up for that list and get it over and done with? I was doing great on this case before you turned up and ruined it.”
You don't want to fight with him, but you will since that is your true dynamic, not what you were like at the table, which was just a charade. This was the authentic you and Jongseong, “You’re acting like I did this all on my own but you were the one that brought up having a wife in the first place, you made me be here! And then you started making eyes at me when we were doing those stupid love lists, that’s on you, not me.” 
Jongseong has veins popping all over his body, his frustration overtaking him like you haven’t seen before. You see him charging towards you before he grabs your shoulders with force, but not enough to hurt you. He shakes you a little, “You drive me fucking crazy, I can’t stand you.”
You raise your voice to match his, pushing him off you, “Fuck you, Park!”
“Fine.” Grabbing the back of your head he pulls you to him, smashing his lips against yours. The action is sudden so it sucks the breath out of you. Were you really kissing Park Jongseong? “You’re so fucking infuriating,” His words are venomous but it doesn’t stop him from gripping your hair and pulling your head back to kiss you deeper. 
If you weren’t dizzy from the wine at dinner, you are now. This man is a psychopath, blowing hot and cold, and yet you’re kissing him back with just as much fervour as he is giving, your lips smushing with his. 
When he feels you reciprocate, he waltzes you to the wall behind you, accidentally slanting a few frames on the wall. You've never experienced anything like the force he has over you, and you can't get enough of it.
“I’m gonna ruin you like you ruined my case.” He spits, pressing you flat against the wall with his body, the arousal evident. 
Driven by a blend of rage and lust, your tongues collided furiously, resulting in a passionate kiss. 
Your head is so scrambled that you can’t decide what you want, so you push him off you to give you time to think. 
Standing about a meter apart, both of your chests rise and fall heavily as you pant, already gasping for air from the heated kiss. He looks dishevelled, hair a riot and your lipstick smothered over his mouth, it’s only adding to your attraction towards him.
Both of you stand, staring at one another, waiting for the next move. But who’s going to make it? 
You could, on the one hand, end this right now and give yourselves a little breathing space. You've brought the emotions from the dinner with you, impairing both his and your judgement. If you leave right now, you can stop this and pretend nothing happened.
But on the other hand, if you move towards him and take him how you want to, it’ll change the dynamic of your relationship forever, and possibly not for the better but could it get any worse? The man just said he couldn’t stand you, what’s one night of throwing caution to the wind, of finally claiming what you desire?
Fuck it.
You practically run towards him, almost knocking him over when you jump on him, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down to your level, kissing him just like before, only this time you’re taking control. It’s the stupidest idea you’ll have this year but you couldn’t give two fucks, the taste of his mouth inebriating. 
Wrapping one of your legs over his, you grind on his thigh, alleviating yourself of the ache that your clit has suddenly developed. It's calling out to him for sweet relief.
“I fucking hate you,” Jongseong says through gritted teeth, his bulge evident in his slacks.
“Fuck me like you do,” You breathe into his mouth. It’s an odd request, usually, the sex you have is filled with love, or at least tolerance, but this time it’s fuelled by pure lust, it’s intoxicating.
Heeding your consent, Jongseong grips your waist tightly and guides you to the bedroom, all the while his mouth is eating yours. The mix of both your spit in one another's mouths is messy and your teeth are hitting off his, you’re both on each other as if you’re on a time limit. Technically you are because one second too long and someone’s clear judgement will start to kick in and stop this. 
Before you throw yourselves into bed, you both have a little issue called ‘clothes’ to take care of first. The gown was nice but he had to see what was hiding underneath.
Reaching for the zip of the dress, he tries to pull it down but it doesn’t budge and he’s too impatient for this right now, longing for your body. After a few tugs it doesn’t budge and he growls, annoyed at this hurdle of inconvenience. He looks down, inspecting the dress to see if he can just pull it over you but he sees a better, more efficient idea.
His hands grip the fabric of your dress at the slit, fingers digging into the material and each side and with a sudden, forceful tug, the threads snap as your beautiful, very expensive gown is torn in half. He uses every muscle in his arms to rip it off you, he’s never been more thankful for hitting the weights 4 days a week.
“Jongseong!” You gasp, annoyed that he’s just ruined your clothes but he doesn’t care, not when you’re standing before him with nothing but your black thong, tits out, and the garter for your gun. He isn’t saying he’s imagined this scenario before, but you’re more gorgeous than he could have ever pictured. 
Throwing the torn dress across the room, he makes way for your mouth again, only this time his hands are massaging your boobs roughly. You can feel the grit on his hands, a testament to the hard work of your job, but the scratchiness of his fingertips only makes you weak at the knees, the sensation of him all over your tits was magical.
For a little revenge, and because you can’t wait any longer, you rip open his white linen shirt, buttons consequently popping and flying across the room. He’s kissing you so forcefully you don’t even get to bask in how his tanned skin contrasts the paleness of his shirt, or how his torso is perfectly lean, not too ripped.
You rub your hands all over him as if trying to memorise every muscle and tense abs. The feeling of your hands dancing over him has Jongseong snarling softly as your mouths continue to meld together, “Such a pain in my ass, L/N.” 
It’s an invitation to slide your hands down to his ass and squeeze his cheeks and at the same time push his cock onto your core. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his nails digging into you, scraping harshly. You’ll definitely have marks in the morning.
With a determined shove, he propelled you onto the bed, a sense of urgency driving his actions. Jongseong needed you. Now.
Just like your dress, your flimsy thong is torn from your body, the burn of the material being ripped along your skin only heightens your pleasure. You’re laid spread on the bed, waiting for his next move, but when he doesn’t budge, too busy drinking in the sight of you, you need to take matters into your own hands.
Situating yourself on your knees, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his boxers, freeing his hardened cock of the confinements. The mixture of the natural breeze from the room and your hot breath makes him twitch in anticipation, “You want to suck my cock?” You’re so infatuated with his shaft and the veins running along it that you don’t register the mocking tone of his voice which normally you would snap at.
Jongseong grips your jaw so tight your mouth automatically opens. He tilts your head up so you both look at each other, eyes hazed with desire, “Fucking take it, then.”
With that, he’s shoving his length into your mouth, pushing you down until he feels the resistance of your throat. He’s not a monster, he isn’t just going to start abusing your mouth, but he does shallowly thrust his dick a few times, testing the waters. Fueled with rage or not, he’s not going to hurt you.
You on the other hand, swirl your tongue around his shaft as you bob your head up and down, loving the feeling of him filling your mouth. Personally, you don’t mind it rough, and by the look on Jongseong’s face, he’s holding back a little. It’s oddly sweet considering he looked like he could have murdered you 10 minutes ago.
Placing both your hands on his hips, you sink your closed throat around the tip of his cock, pulling him in as deep as he can go.
Jongseong’s hands clenched into fists and grabbed your hair, his knuckles turned white from the intensity of the sensation. He tries to push deeper into your throat, meeting your gag reflex with a groan. 
You push his hips out before pulling him back in harshly, giving him a hint of what you want. Fortunately, Jongseong has always been a fast learner, “You want me to fuck your throat, hmm?” You hum around him which elicits a wicked smirk on his face, “Good.” 
Rapidly, his hips move on their own, his cock now fucking your mouth and throat raw. It burns in the best possible way, the taste of his pre-cum sliding onto the back of your tongue each time he pulls back makes you moan. 
“You look so much prettier when your mouth is stuffed with my cock,” He comments, noting how much he loved the way you looked with your eyes watering and puffed out. You look like a dream, a dream he hopes he never wakes up from.
He holds your head still will both his hands, ass clenched as he fucks into you, mind completely lost in the feeling of your mouth.
Jongseong loves to be in control, not dominant, but his partners definitely know their place, and it’s to be putty in his hands.
What he doesn’t notice is how he actually isn’t in charge, you’re just making him think he is. It was you that decided whether this happened or not, it was you who got him to fuck your throat dry, and it’s you that’s going to make him cum.
Sucking harder, you’re trying to coax him to cum all down your throat, to help soothe the pain, but he won’t let that happen. Yanking at your hair, he pulls you off and you gasp for air, not realising you are losing oxygen. 
He almost unnoticeably checks to see if you’re okay, gazing softly into your eyes, but once he sees you smiling, he goes right back to his ways, pushing you down onto the bed and crawling over you. 
The way he's confined you beneath him causes your body to arch up to meet him and draw his entire weight onto you; his bare cock accidentally scrapes against your clit, causing your hips to buck up to gain friction. 
“So fucking desperate for me. I haven’t even made sure you can take me yet,” He teases, his hips moving slowly to slide his cock between your folds, gathering your slick as natural lube. You’re so wet you don’t even need any help, his cock could slide right in.
“I can take it,” You match his arrogance, not completely sure of the certainty in your words because he’s big, but it’s all to do with his length rather than girth, so you think you can handle it. Plus, you won't ever back down from a challenge set by your work foe. 
His face looks a little dubious too, like he doesn’t believe you. You’ll just have to prove it to him.
You smoothly flipped him over on the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. As he landed beneath you, you held him in place, the thrill of the unexpected move adding an extra spark to the moment. It’s a carbon copy of how he pushed you onto the bed before dinner, just with way less clothes.
Not wasting any time you pump his cock a few times and spit on it, mixing the fluids of your saliva and his cum to help him ease into you.
“Fuck, you sure you can handle-” Jongseong’s words stop in place when his cock breaches your entrance as you start to sink onto him, “Holy shit,” He whispers, eyes shut tight as he feels the way you’re hugging his cock, the heat of you travelling to him. You feel sensational.
You start with shallow bounces, not taking his whole length into you just yet, but even just the 3 out of 6 inches you are experiencing are driving you wild. 
Jongseong wants nothing more than to bottom out and claim you right here and now but there’s something so satisfying about seeing you struggle to hold your weight up as you ride him. He could have some fun with this.
His hands rub your thighs, one of which moves closer to your cunt. You're too preoccupied to notice, so when his thumb circles your clit, you lose your balance and collapse onto him, all of his cock buried inside you now. The sudden stretch was glorious like you don’t understand why you didn’t just sit all the way on his dick in the first place.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? Too full of my cock to keep going?” He comments on your still body. Truthfully, you were just basking in the way his cock is stuffing you while his thumb keeps up the rhythm on your clit, you really didn’t have to move. But he’s taunting you to keep going and you can’t let him get away with it, he’ll never let you live it down if you just sit there. He’d call you selfish or a lone player, whatever else he’s called you at work.
So you start to move, grinding random shapes that would hilt his tip into all the perfect places inside your heat.
Like putty in his hands. He smirks, his tongue swipes his bottom lip as he watches you work for it. 
Your hands try to grasp anything that will aid you, but all you have is your hair, which isn't ideal but threading your fingers and pulling at the hairs on your scalp reminds you of how he had an iron grip on you when he first kissed you. 
Jongseong has to admire you right now because you’re taking your pleasure into your own hands, he’s basically doing nothing and he thinks you might be close to cumming. The competitive side of him knows what to do because he will be damned if he isn’t pounding you, making you scream his name as you cum.
He fucks up into you, taking over and making you lose the pace you had set. You would complain if he wasn’t hammering into you so good. The moans leaving your mouth are frenzied, calling out for more, which he’ll happily give you, just not in this position.
Cradling your back he sits up and throws you so he’s on top, your head now hanging off the end of the bed, the instant blood rush turns your brain to mush, and all the while he doesn’t stop thrusting into you, each time he moves, it hits a new spot you didn’t know you had. He’s fucking you so good, you’ll never get enough.
Jongseong dislikes the fact that he can't see your face, so he yanks you back onto the bed by your legs, causing him to dig deeper into your pussy. Once your fucked out face comes back into view, he smirks because you’re completely gone, eyes shut as you feel every inch of him. 
“Told you I would ruin you, didn’t I?” He grits out, slapping your left tit, causing you to yelp back into the world, your eyes now watering at the sting.
“Not ruined me enough,” You bite back, egging him on to go rougher. 
He tilts his head in disbelief as he keeps battering your pussy with his cock, the audacity you have to say that when you couldn’t even speak a minute ago. Roughly, grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, his forehead against yours as his eyes burn deep into yours, “Say that again.” 
Every fibre of your body tells you not to speak another word, but you never listened to yourself anyway, “You couldn’t ruin me as bad as you ruined your case.”
“Fuck you.” He grips your throat keeping your head up and kisses you roughly, his tongue sweeping all along your mouth. Jongseong can only see red because it was you who made him forget about the assignment because it was your eyes he was getting lost in. This was your fault and no one else. 
Harshly, he pins you back to the bed by your neck, not squeezing too harshly, but just enough to restrict your breath flow. He saw how much you loved the head rush earlier, so he took that as a sign you would like to be choked while he fucks you.
He was right.
“You know what? I’m going to make my own list,” He breathes out, “My hate list.” 
You’re a little confused but you’re too drunk on his cock to understand even the simplest of sentences.
Jongseong begins to snap his hips into you with each sentence, “I hate that you think you’re better than me,” His grip squeezes your throat, “I hate when you suck up to the boss’ ass and stick me in shit when it’s convenient for you.”
You let out a whimper at his brute force, “Jongseong…please,” You try to fuck onto him more, the single thrusts not giving you what you want quick enough, but that only earns you another squeeze of your jugular.
“And I hate that I love how good you’re pussy feels,” Your ears prick up at the twisted compliment, a sense of accomplishment coming over you, “You drive me batshit crazy, and I fucking love it.”
He withdraws his hand from your throat and trails it back down to your bud, now focusing all his efforts on helping you finish. 
“I hate that you can’t just admit you like me,” You breathe out, voice hoarse. 
For a split second, he stops all his movements, but he refuses to acknowledge what you just said because it’s not true. He doesn’t like you, not one bit…
This was treading into dangerous territory and Jongseong knew it, so he had to end this fast. With one smooth movement, he hoists your back up to arch it and pounds himself deep into you, his balls slapping against your ass due to his relentless pace. He was showing you no mercy, he was showing you how much he hated your guts.
“I’m cumming, Jjongie,” You whine out.
He notices the nickname and, while he won't admit it, he likes it. Only when you say it, or rather how you say it, especially now that you're clenching down on him and cumming over his cock. The way your pussy clamps him causes him to blast his load deep into you, his previously tactical thrusts now hilted so he can fill you up. 
Shared pants echo the room as you both sit in the consequences of your actions. 
You just fucked Park Jongseong - and you liked it. The mix of anger and desire just added a new level to sex you didn’t think possible. 
Abruptly, he gets off you, and his cock slips out of you leaving you feeling a little empty, “I’ll take the couch,” he says, face hard with seriousness. He was just going to leave you like this? Weren’t you going to talk about what just happened? 
“Oh…okay.” You say deflated. 
Jongseong notices and turns his head to you, his back still in clear view, but he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he sighs and picks up his case, retreating to the living area of the hotel suite. 
You feel a little tacky, not just physically but mentally. You weren’t expecting love and kisses after the sex, but a little ‘That was good’ or even ‘Are you okay?’ would have been enough. 
Attempting to push aside the lingering thoughts, you slip off of the bed and head to the shower, determined to rid your body and mind of all traces of his presence. As you retrieve your pyjamas and walk by him, you inadvertently overlook the gloomy expression on his face, like he wants to do more but he already complicated your relationship enough when he kissed and then fucked you, in his mind, it was best just to forget about it.
_____
The next morning you awake with the brightness of the day shining on your face. Your body is sore from the way Jongseong handled you last night. If it was any other circumstance, you would probably be smiling, reliving the best fuck you’ve had for years, but you’re not smiling. You can’t, not after he left you so coldly.
A buzzing from your phone diverts your attention into the real world. You read his name at the top of your phone and you begin to read the plethora of messages from this morning
Park Jongseong
5:12am: 
Gone to see if I can arrange lunch with him.
Wear something nice.
5:32am: 
Meet us at 11am in the dining room.
7:23am:
I’m sorry for last night.
I was a prick.
You ignore the apology and look at the time, it’s currently just past 10am which means you better get your ass in gear and get ready. 
It’s time to be Jongseong’s devoted wife.
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invidiia · 9 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ "you're obsessed.." 𖤐 various bsd yanderes // reader.
bsd yanderes ada, pm, doa, hd + the jealousy scale.
[ a/n; hi i was bored and gotta feed the people bc my next big post is takin a bit 🏃‍♂️]
[ warning; jealous yanderes lolol ]
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atsushi is a 6 of 10. definitely hides any jealous thoughts, at least until you're both home, but is absolutely bitter about it after
dazai is a fair 7 of 10. i don't have a lot to say about him, but he most definitely gets jealous easily
kunikida is a 5 of 10. when he's with you and you get hit spoken to by someone else, he just takes control of the situation and leaves with you. obviously against your choices, but he doesn't trust you.
ranpo is a 6 of 10. doesn't get too worried about other guys because he knows you wouldn't go for anyone else other than the greatest detective ever, but when another guy flirts with you, he just feels the need to.. step in.
yosano is a 7 of 10. she doesn't mind when others speak to you, as long as they aren't flirting with you, and that's a loose term with her. asking for directions in a large mall could get someone's fingers chopped off if she was in a particularly annoyed mood.
fukuzawa is a 4 of 10. he doesn't care if people talk to you either, but flirting is off the table with him. even so, he'll just leave the area and take you with him, he can't just let some other guy talk to you, are you crazy?
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akutagawa is a 8 of 10. if someone's making small talk or something he doesn't care, but even speaking to you or looking at you for too long is just like asking for him to beat them senselessly.
chuuya is a 8 of 10. like akutagawa, small talk doesn't matter to him. you're socializing, who cares? but he's absolutely jealous of your friends, especially your close ones. strangers, he can beat the shit out of those, but your friends? he can't do anything there, so he just sits in silence.
higuchi is an 9 of 10. she hates when anyone else talks to you, she just can't stand it. she'll openly tell you how much she hates it when other people beside her 'flirt' with you, and makes you promise not to hurt her like that again.
gin is a 3 of 10. she does get jealous of other people like your closer friends, but doesn't act on anything, just sits in silence. maybe she'll express to you she was jealous, but she won't hurt anyone unless they make advances on you
tachihara is a 6 of 10. he does get jealous of your friends, but doesn't hate them. he just wants to be in their place. who says you should spend all your time with them? leave some room for him, won't you?
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sigma is a 7 of 10. he won't make direct moves if he's jealous, he'll only tell you he's jealous afterward, or work behind scenes to get rid of the certain person he thinks talks to you a little too much for his liking.
fyodor is a 9 of 10. he doesn't think you'll talk to anyone else, it's about others talking to you. he just can't have you talking to anyone but him. why would you need to anyway?
nikolai is a 8 of 10. i don't have a whole lot to say about him either, but he's not afraid to be... himself,, if someone talks to you a little too much.
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jouno is a 9 of 10. he knows you won't actually speak to other guys.. but still. he isn't chill when other guys talk to you, and gets worse when they eye you the wrong way,
tecchou is a 4 of 10. this man sees no reason to be jealous of your friends, or anyone who says they don't want you. why would they lie to him anyway? look at him, he's strong as hell. would you lie to him? didn't think so
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[ a/n; sobs im so tired can you telllll ?? i only wrote doa trio bc.. fukuchi is strange, bram is just.. bram, plus i kinda only see him as platonic yandere loll, didnt do teruko cuz idk her actual age.. sorry this is so rushed lol its 2am i gotta go to beddd, but next post is dazai fr!!!!! ]
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a shore thing
bucky barnes x fem reader
i decided to write it hehe
a/n: any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo
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Bucky calls your name for the umpteenth time, beyond exasperated as you stumble away, giggling uncontrollably as you evade capture. He's hardly tipsy anymore, having decided to nurse a single beer for the last couple hours when he noticed how heavy you were drinking. Somebody needed to be responsible, he told himself. Even Steve was letting loose more than usual. But, to be fair, they were all on vacation.
“Guys, the taxis are here,” Nat announces, yet again, leaning heavily against one of said vehicles. “Bucky, we gotta go.”
“I’m trying my best here,” he replies. Although, that's not entirely true. “Someone should've cut her off ages ago.”
“Boooooo,” you heckle as you run past him.
Bucky sighs heavily. “Fine. You can stay here by yourself.”
You pause abruptly, almost tripping over your own feet, but you catch yourself before you face-plant into the gravel. “You're leaving me?” you ask in a pitiful tone.
“Yup.” Bucky turns and takes a few steps away, hearing you whine in protest. “Have fun.”
“Noooo, wait!”
Your uneven steps come closer and closer to Bucky and as soon as he gauges you're within arm’s reach he spins around with a smirk. It makes you lurch to a stop, gasping as it dawns on you.
“Betrayal!” you shout, pointing an accusatory finger at him. You try to take off running again, but Bucky is quicker. You're swooped up into a fireman’s carry before you even register your feet leaving the ground. “Ack! Put me down, you absolute caveman!”
Sam sticks his head out of the taxi. “There's room in this one.”
Bucky steers his steps that way, feeling your tiny fists beating his back the whole way, and plops you into the open seat. You let out a cute oof that he ignores as he tries to latch the seatbelt. You're a squirmy little shit though, and he soon finds that the only way he’ll be able to get the group back to the hotel is to enter the taxi himself and pull you into his lap. He quickly shuts the door and finally latches the seatbelt around the both of you, telling the driver to go.
Sam shakes his head in amusement in the seat beside Bucky. “You're seriously the only one who can rally that firecracker of a woman.”
“Hey!” you object with a pout. “I'm drunkies, not deaf. I can still hear you.”
You and Sam begin bickering and Bucky rolls his eyes, but he doesn't do anything to interfere. He's too busy trying to think about literally anything else other than the ginormous mistake he made by placing you on his lap. You, the person he's been in love with for far too long now, who has absolutely no clue of his feelings and sends constant mixed signals.
There are days he's sure you feel the same with the way you look at him, but then the next day you go out of your way to make sure he knows the two of you are just friends. He's losing his fucking mind. He doesn't know if he should tell you how he feels or try to move on.
You're wiggling suddenly, body jostling atop Bucky’s and his mind is forced to return to the present, only to see you and Sam slap-fighting like children.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” he addresses the driver, “I swear they're actually adults when they're not three sheets to the wind.”
The driver waves off the apology with a chuckle. The fight ends with you pinching Sam’s nipple, his cry of pain and outrage making you giggle wildly and throw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. After you catch your breath you sit up and wiggle some more until you're sitting sideways and can look at Bucky. Your eyes are glassy and your smile is sly and a touch wonky, and Bucky still thinks you're the cutest, sexiest woman he's ever known.
“Why don't you like me for real?”
The taxi is uncomfortably quiet. Bucky blinks a few times, shifting his gaze to Sam, who’s suddenly very interested in the passing streetlights and palm trees outside the window. Traitor, Bucky thinks. With no help from his supposed friend, Bucky looks back to you.
He clears his throat. “I do like you.”
“No,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I mean like, like me like me. Like, more.”
Bucky is silent again, his mind whirling with a million questions–the biggest one being what the fuck?
“I'm not sure what you mean,” he says carefully. He hopes playing dumb will work in deterring the conversation, but he should've known better.
“You always just joke about it, but you never mean it. Always get my hopes up.”
“What are you talking about?” he blurts, truly flabbergasted, but he cuts you off before you can reply. “No, don't answer that. You're drunk, okay? You don't know what you're saying.”
You poke his cheek roughly, pouting. “I just want you to like me back, Buck. Wanna kiss you whenever I want.”
Bucky swallows thickly, unable to take his eyes away from yours as you lean in closer.
“Don't you wanna kiss me?” you question, reaching up you play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?”
Your lips graze his, a feather-light touch, and he exhales shakily. Of fucking course he wants to kiss you. He's wanted nothing else for the last year. But he doesn't want it like this. He says your name, voice low in warning. You either don't hear him or you don't care.
Bucky’s eyes flutter closed as you continue pressing light kisses to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin, along his jaw. He fists his hands where they rest on either side of you, praying for the will to remain strong.
“You're drunk,” he repeats, a last ditch effort in getting you to stop, but even he can hear how weak the protest is.
“I still know what I want, what I feel.” You brush your nose against his. “I want you.”
Sam coughs pointedly beside both of you. “We’re here.”
Bucky is quick to unlatch the seatbelt and help you out of the car. Nat walks over and grabs your hand, Steve walking leisurely behind her.
“Let's go to bed, please,” she begs as she drags you with her.
You begin whining again, reminding Bucky of your inebriated state. He shouldn't have let you kiss him. You're not going to remember any of this tomorrow. Guilt punches him in the gut. He's so fucking weak when it comes to you.
“I wanna sleep with Bucky,” you complain as you resist.
Natasha squawks. “What?!” Her eyes are as wide as saucers, flicking back and forth from you and Bucky. Sam fails to hide his snort.
“His bed is bigger,” you explain, “You take up too much space.”
Natasha gasps. “How dare you!”
You turn to Bucky with pleading eyes. “Bucky, please let me sleep with you.”
“I… I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he replies.
You stomp your foot. “Pleeeease?” Your pout is lethal. “I promise I won't take up too much space.”
Sam puts his hand over Nat’s mouth before she can start yelling, doing his best to frogmarch her into the hotel so they don't cause a disturbance. Steve follows languidly, which is the sign that he's quickly coming down from his drunken high and will likely crash the moment his head hits the pillow.
“You should just sleep in your room with Nat,” Bucky advises.
“I don't wanna sleep with her,” you say, stepping back into Bucky’s space. One of your hands grasps his shirt, the other trailing across his chest. He fights the shiver threatening to run down his spine. “I wanna cuddle you.”
You look up at him through your lashes and Bucky knows he's lost. He sighs. You grin and giggle, grabbing his hand to lead him inside the hotel. He's quiet the whole ride up in the elevator. Your head is resting on his shoulder, humming along to whatever song is playing in your head. You’re still holding his hand.
When you're both standing in front of his room door, Bucky pauses, about to try one last time to get you to go two rooms down to the one you're supposed to be sharing with Nat, but you snatch the key card out of his hand and open the door before a word can leave his mouth. He doesn't trust you to be alone right now, and with Sam babysitting Nat and Steve probably snoring away in his own room, Bucky accepts his fate. He enters the room, closing the door with resignation.
“Ugh, god, these heels are the worst,” you grumble as you trip your way over to sit on the bed. You fight with the small buckle before making a noise of complaint. “Buckyyy…”
“Jesus,” he mutters, huffing as he walks to you.
He kneels in front of you and carefully takes your shoes off. You hum, pleased, once your feet are free, wiggling your toes.
“Why do you wear them if you hate them so much?” he mumbles.
“Because they make my legs and ass look fantastic, duh.”
Well. That's fair, Bucky supposes.
“Can you unzip me now?”
Fuck. Bucky chokes on nothing.
“Unzip you? What are you planning on sleeping in? Your pajamas are in your room,” he points out.
“Can't I borrow one of your shirts?” you ask, blinking innocent eyes up at him.
He doesn't trust it one bit.
“Please, Bucky? My dress won't be comfortable.”
Your pout makes yet another appearance. He doesn't bother pointing out that you wouldn't have this problem if you went to your own room. You'd ignore him anyway.
“Fine,” he grumbles. He rifles through his bag to find a shirt for you, grabbing pajamas for himself while he's at it. “I'll go change in the bathroom.”
He turns to head that way, but you stop him.
“My dress,” you remind him, spinning around and pointing at the zip.
Bucky's pretty sure you could do this by yourself, but he's just ready to go to bed at this point, so he’ll do whatever he has to to get there. He tries not to put too much thought into the action, but his mind can't help but wander, imagining unzipping your dress with different intentions. The more skin that is revealed to him, the more his breathing picks up. He takes note that you didn't wear a bra with this dress, which makes him realize you'll be wearing his shirt with only your underwear beneath it. He curses mentally.
He steps away like he's been burned once the zipper reaches the bottom. “There you go,” he says, voice gruff.
He doesn't wait for your response, quickly escaping into the bathroom before anything else can be asked of him. It doesn't take Bucky long to change his clothes, but he still lingers in the small space to gather his wits, taking his time as he brushes his teeth, and even splashes some cold water on his face. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment.
“She’ll forget all of this by morning,” he assures himself.
He's not fond of the way that statement makes his stomach twist.
When he leaves the bathroom, he finds your dress pooled on the floor in the same spot you stood as he unzipped it. You're standing next to the bed, fidgeting with the hem of Bucky’s shirt that hangs off your small frame. He raises a quizzical brow.
“I don't know which side you prefer,” you say, unsure.
Bucky feels himself soften at your expression. “I'm good either way.”
You dart for the left side, lifting the comforter and sheets and snuggling underneath them. Bucky's lips twitch, but he resists smiling.
“C’mon, Buck, I want cuddles,” you entice, patting the spot beside you exaggeratedly.
He only hesitates for a split second. It's late and exhaustion is settling in his bones. He’ll worry about consequences in the morning.
You waste no time in invading his space once he's in the bed. You nudge his arm until he lifts it, worming your way under it and placing your head on his chest, your own arm slung over his waist. Bucky goes still, holding his breath until you get comfortable. Slowly, he lets his arm fall across your back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.
“Bucky?” you whisper.
“Hm?”
You nuzzle into his pec. “Love you.”
Bucky's eyes snap open then. His heart begins hammering in his chest and he prays that you're close enough to sleep to not notice.
“Goodnight,” he rasps after a minute passes by.
Your only reply is a light snore. Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest.
~
The next morning, Bucky lies awake, staring at the ceiling. He's not sure exactly how much sleep he got, but it wasn't a lot. You only got clingier as you slept, practically wrapping your whole body around him.
Bucky is a weak, weak man.
Sunlight begins peeking through the curtains, eventually finding its way to the bed and across your closed eyes. A frown forms between your brows and he almost smoothes it with his thumb. The only reason he stops himself is because you groan and turn away before he can.
“Turn it off,” you croak.
“The sun?” he retorts with a laugh.
“Yes,” you reply derisively. “Kick its ass for waking me up.”
Bucky smiles to himself. “Whatever you want, my love.”
It feels like the room freezes in time after the endearment escapes him. With a jolt, you sit up and face him. Bucky can't read your expression, but that's mostly because he's doing his best to look anywhere but your face.
“Seriously?” you gripe. “You're still going to poke fun about that kind of shit even after what I said last night?”
That gets his attention pretty easily. He meets your gaze and hates the dejected look on your face.
“What–what are you talking about?” he questions, thrown.
Your chin wobbles slightly before you scoff, whipping the comforter off your body as you attempt to leave the bed, but Bucky sits up and grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Wait–”
“Let go of me,” you demand, refusing to look at him.
“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he replies firmly.
You turn to him with a glare. “You're still joking about my feelings for you, even though I made it perfectly clear how I felt last night.”
“Felt? You… you don't feel the same anymore?” He's grasping for straws here. “I thought–I mean, I didn't think you were serious. You were drunk, I…”
“It doesn't matter if I still feel the same or not,” you reply, the fight leaving your body.
“Yes, it does!” he exclaims. “God, of course it fucking matters. If you have feelings for me, I need to know.”
“Have I not made it abundantly clear already?!” you retort. “If you're that fucking dense, then here you go: I'm fucking in love with you, you big, stupid, gigantic ass–”
He cuts you off by dragging your body to his and kissing you. You make a sound of shock, but you don't push him away, so he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and flicking his tongue at the seam of your lips. You open for him with a gasp, your tongue meeting his and making you both moan. He pulls away, chest heaving.
“We're both stupid,” he declares. “I'm in love with you too. I thought you were the one not taking it seriously.”
Your dazed expression begins clearing and realization sets in. “Oh my god,” you mumble as you yank him back into a kiss that has him reeling.
“Do you know,” he starts between kisses, “how fucking hard it was—to be a gentleman last night?”
You giggle. “I was hoping you wouldn't be a gentleman.”
Bucky curses, manhandling you until you're flat on your back. “That can be arranged.”
“Promises, promises,” you goad, biting your lip.
“Exactly,” he replies, lips tugging into a smirk.
~
Needless to say, the two of you have to put up with merciless teasing for the rest of the trip… But it's worth it.
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beanghostprincess · 2 months
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I'm gonna shamelessly drop some silly headcanons for the Cross Guild and also Shuggy:
• Shanks absolutely told Mihawk to his face "hey I think you and my boyfriend should hook up"
".... Excuse me?"
"I said you and Blue should hook up! :)"
".................. what percentage is that rum-?"
"I'm not drunk! I just think you'd like him!"
"Shanks. Redhair. I begrudgingly think of you as an acquaintance with whom I am not averse to spending time with, but if you ever insinuate I would "hook up" with a clown of all things, I will sever your other arm and beat you to death with it."
".... hot."
"You need professional help."
• cut to several years later, Mihawk is looking at Buggy, laid out on the ground on his tummy and playing with a baby humandrill. Oh, he thinks, watching Buggy coo and smile, quiet for once, sweet and unfiltered, oh no
• falling in love, for Mihawk, was a gradual decline, slow and steady until he suddenly got kicked off a cliff roadrunner style. He was warming up to the clown, was beginning to see what perhaps Shanks saw in him, was growing begrudgingly fond. Then one day, he happened across Buggy curled over onto a desk late at night, his cartoonishly large red outfit loose around him, drowning his limbs. With a touch of something approaching compassion, he designs to move the other to the couch at the very least, but then he sees Buggy is kneading the spare fabric in his sleep, not unlike a cat. When Mihawk scoops him up, the swordsman almost drops him because humans do not purr, and yet... shit. Shit. The Clown is cute. Who authorized this? Seas damn it all, he owes the Red bastard 250 Berri
• Crocodile resisted love with all the aplomb of a feral koala on crack. He outright REFUSED to fall for a clown, let alone THIS clown in particular. Then Buggy goes and does something absolutely mundane but cripplingly sweet like making his coffee PERFECTLY and then asking about the newest batch of strawberrywanis that just hatched. Croc gets affection aggression and is fuming over how much he wants to kiss this dumbass.
Buggy goes and makes it worse by making a soft comment about having been looking into their care himself out of interest and brings up maybe looking into expanding, what with the 'Wani yield, something Croc has been debating for future endeavors because while the current set up is okay and will remain alright, it won't always be. He is frothing. He is feral. He wants to kiss the clown. Shit. SHIT. How dare he?!
• Buggy is simply Oblivious. He has Shanks (and wowza if that hadn't been nice, seeing his boyenemy again after a highly traumatic experience like prison-and-then-war), and he knows he has a bit of a crush on his new business partners, but there's no way they'll like HIM back. It's simply not a Thing. He'll make do with self indulgent fantasies for now.
• Shanks is across the new world, sipping rum out of a sippy cup and grinning at the denden bc He Knows. He knows damn well that nobody is immune to his baby's charm. Nobody Is Immune To Buggy.
• Luffy wakes from a nap in a cold sweat like "my sand dad is about to kiss my clown mom. Zoro. Zoro wake up your dad is about to fuck my mom. Zoro-"
My favorite thing about Cross Guild falling in love is the inevitable way in which both Crocodile and Mihawk swear on their life they will NOT IN A MILLION YEARS fall for somebody as pathetic and ridiculous as the clown. And yet. And yet, they fall and it is painful to go through and they hate every second of it. But it goes from "I wanna kill him" to "He's okay" to "I guess he is cute" to "I would kill for him" in, like, months. Which for them feels like seconds. And they want to die.
And Buggy is completely oblivious, of course, he thinks they hate him. They are just two neurodivergent men who do not know how to communicate their feelings because they have been on their own for too long. So they are just. They're idiots.
Also, Luffy and Zoro reacting to Bughawk has to be the funniest things in the world-
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the-magicians-blue · 2 years
Note
u know how micah did that virus thingy..where its a photo of him showing of his abs..what if the MC did it back to him FBDJFHJF
LMAO THAT POOR MAN I GOT YOU
Warning: a little suggestive since your sending thirst pics but that’s as far as it goes
11:29pm
It was a knee jerk reaction he promises. Did he want to hang up? No of course not. Did he want you to see him loose his shit completely? Absolutely not. He wasn’t gonna give you the satisfaction of having bested him. Though he has to admit…. Hanging up wasn’t really the best way to fight back.
The conversation had started off as it usually did, the usual banter and whatever topics you two could think of. Then you suddenly stopped the conversation to ask if you could give a gift. At first he assumed you were sending him food or a toy of some sort like he usually did for you, so he absentmindedly said yes. Suddenly a bunch a windows began popping up on his screen. Each of them had a photo of you sitting on your legs in one of the oversized shirts he left at your house. You had the shirt lifted up to reveal a pair of black undies that shaped your butt nicely. And of course you showed it off by turning so it was on full display. All you heard was the beginnings of a loud screech before the call suddenly ended.
Micah had quick gotten out of his chair, squealing as his brain was struggling to calm down from how hot you looked. His face was burning and he needed to cool down. He quickly went to his kitchen for a cold bottle of water. When he returned the photos were still there on his computer screen teasing him, or rather tormenting him. Damn you were hot it wasn’t fair. He started to remove the multiple windows on his screen after he saved the photos of course. That’s what he noticed your messages.
My Angel <3: you ok?
My Angel <3: Micah???
My Angel <3: don’t tell me that you short circuited that much cause of lil ole me~
Micah huffed and crosses his arms, for someone who couldn’t take their own medicine you sure were quick to tease him every chance you got.
Micah Yujin: don’t let your head get to big angel, my connection just failed thats all
My Angel <3: 🧢🧢🧢
My Angel <3: there no way you don’t have the best internet money can buy ain’t shit failed
My Angel <3: just admit it, I beat you
Micah Yujin: NEVER
Now that he was calm he called back, smiling as if nothing happened.
“See, the called dropped thats all, nice try though angel!” You raised a brow at him, still not believing him.
“Yeah sure. In that case you wouldn’t mind me sending more right?” You smirked at him as he gulped at your question.
“Y-yeah! I can totally handle any little trick you’ve got up your sleeve!” He triedhis best to look confident but the red on his cheeks and ears said otherwise. So you decided to send more. You had plenty since you wanted to take the perfect photo. He couldn’t see you cause his screen was covered in photos but you could see him. He was trying to keep his cool but the blush was quickly spreading to the rest of his face.
“OK OK FINE YOU WIN! Please, my poor little heart can’t take it… you’re too sexy! Any normal person would have passed out by now!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his response.
“At least you know you’re no where near normal.” He smirked at you, now back to his usual smug self.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have been able to make you fall hopelessly in love with me if I was some normal guy. Just who do you think you’re talking to angel?”
“A dumbass thats who.” You both busted into laughter. It was the small moments like this that had you hooked on each other. Even when you bickered or try to best each other there was always a hint of love behind it. Like Micah said, no one normal could make you feel the way he does.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
Text
She’s My Religion- Part 4: Makes You Believe in Something Above (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- Shadowheart, Isobel, Halsin, and Dame Aylin work to heal you. No one is certain you’ll willingly come back from the land of the Dead. Astarion begs for you to come back to him and he wants to spend forever with you.
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CW: mentions of gore, violent themes, mentions of SA, mentions of attempted SA, mentions of grief
*not my pic* reach out if it is yours so I can give you credit!
This is barely edited- my mental health has been ❤️🙈✨horrific ✨🙈❤️
The last thing you remember was hearing Astarion screaming and crying- it broke your heart to hear his painful transformation.
Giving up has been the easiest feeling in the whole world- you didn’t know if you were dreaming or in the Heavens, but being embraced by your mother and father as you let the warm glow of their love sink into your non-existent bones, you didn’t know if you cared.
Your father was still your father and your mother was your mother again. They were both still madly in love with one another, but they miss you terribly.
You asked if you were temporarily here. Your mother smiled and said, “only for now, my Heart.”
You broke down in front of both of them- told them your fears and how scared you are to return to Astarion. You don’t want to be forced into vampirism and you certainly don’t want to be a consort.
Your parents told you that fate is a fickle thing and it’s better to embrace it than run from it- they won’t allow you to give up.
You were so angry- they let you be. You lit fires in the Heavenly grass and you screamed until you couldn’t scream anymore. Both of your parents held you as you sobbed- telling you that you’ll be okay.
After, you decided you weren’t going to squander your last little bit of freedom and time with your parents for Gods knows how long. You will not continue being angry over something you have no control over. You will figure it out- you will be okay.
You laughed, cried, hugged, and talked together for what was probably seconds in the mortal world, but hours in this beautiful space.
Your soul feels broken and healed all at the same time when your consciousness hits you like a wagon and you are still in the Szarr palace. Except you aren’t lying on the ground anymore (you think); the air smells of Astarion and the aroma is intoxicating. At least he still smells the same, but you thought you would be far more blood thirsty for waking up as a Spawn and that Astarion would be a lot less hysterical.
Your body hurts- being only halfway between death and life is a painful balance. All of your muscles are taught, but also loose and heavy at the same time. Your skin is numb, but also still stings with every single mark Cazador had cut into you.
Astarion is holding you up against him while Shadowheart is working to heal you and Gale finishes reading the Revivify Scroll. Astarion’s silent tears are falling into your hair and trailing down your face.
“Don’t leave me here alone,” he whispers pleadingly for only your ears to hear, “I didn’t do it- I didn’t Ascend. You were right- you were right the whole time. I dislike you for it, but it’s true.”
You hear him take a shaky, choked breath- your body still not quite awake enough to show any sign of real change in your condition.
You are in complete shock. He didn’t Ascend? It is all he had been talking about for the last three weeks! It’s what he had wanted so why didn’t he do it.
“I’m so so sorry, my Love, ” he continues to beg quietly, “I want you to come back. I need you to come back to me. I don’t want to be in this world without you.”
He pauses for a second and gently kisses your cheek- exhaling unevenly.
“And then have you beat the shit out of me when I decide to come join you because ‘that absolutely is not what I wanted you to do!’”
His soft impression of you, the broken laugh, and the words themselves make your heart feel like it’s going to shatter. You are fighting to make your breaths more noticeable or move your arm- something to tell Astarion I’m here! I didn’t leave you! You aren’t connected enough to your body right now to use the tadpole so that’s not even an option.
Your body is still so weak- Shadowheart is struggling to find out which poison it is and then you hear the voice of Isobel and the sound of Karlach’s clunky armor in the air as Isobel begins to talk to Shadowheart and Halsin about what they have done so far- what has worked? What hasn’t? How long have you been down? Do you have a reason to refuse to come back?
Everyone responds with a resounding no, but you hear Astarion interject.
“Yes,” Astarion’s voice cracks, “she does have a reason to refuse to come back.
“She didn’t want me to Ascend,” he says solemnly, “and we fought about it and I told her it was over. I was coming back to talk to her about it- try to make her see the reasons I needed to Ascend. To try to explain to her that I was doing it for her too.
“I never would have thought Cazador would hurt her like this. He was always so protective,” he manages to choke out after a long pause, “she’s lost her whole family and now she thinks her life is at risk because of me and my obsession with power. Why would she want to come back?”
“Fangs…”
“No,” he screams, the sound echoing through your body, “don’t try to tell me how much she loves me, how she wouldn’t just leave me! I broke her heart. Tav’s family is dead, gone, no more. It’s not even guaranteed some of us will still be alive at the end of this thing and if I thought my best bet of being free was dying because I thought my EX-boyfriend became a power hungry Demi-God Vampire Hybrid- I WOULD CHOOSE STAYING DEAD TOO!”
At least he gets it, but it’s not his fault though. You had made a conscious decision and you knew it was likely you wouldn’t come back. You had been so certain that you had done the right thing this time- you let him go to be what he wanted to be and to find a consort that better suited what he wanted out of life. You were going to be Tadpole free and happily reunited with the people you care for.
You are hoping that he doesn’t resent you- what if you forced him to make a decision? Did he go into your mind? Was he aware that you had chosen to give up and Gods you hope that isn’t the reason he chose not to Ascend because you could not live with yourself if your selfish decision made him deny himself what he wants.
As you try to connect to your tadpole again, you hear Isobel ask for your arm and then feel her stab you with a needle before the world goes dark.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion clings to you in your shared bed as you sleep peacefully in his arms. Isobel had told everyone she had figured out it was Topor- how? Astarion had no damn clue, but you began to look better immediately after she gave you the injection and you’ve been sleeping since.
Astarion had been worried about you sleeping for so long- Isobel, Shadowheart, Halsin and Gale had to come together to convince him that you are entirely okay, but your body had just been through significant trauma- emotionally, mentally, and physically.
Dalyria told him that Cazador had attempted to force himself on you, but you fought him so hard and for so long (even going as far as escaping for a brief moment) that Cazador gave up- resigning to waiting until you were a compliant spawn. So he gave you the Topor to kick start your agonizingly slow and painful death. Isobel said you maybe only had about an hour and a half left when she had arrived- praising Karlach for getting to her so quickly.
Astarion had actually hugged the tiefling (and for a very long time too) after Dame Aylin took you away to help Isobel clean up and stitch your deeper wounds before attempting to heal them. Karlach had been thrilled, but she also told Astarion that she is really proud of him for not ascending and for releasing the spawn into the Underdark. Oh and no hard feelings for the outburst.
Actually- that had been everyone’s words to him today. No one wanted him to Ascend and maybe he would have been miffed prior to today, but Astarion has finally discovered what all those writers have been saying- love and companionship are the most powerful forces across the planes. Astarion could never have killed Cazador or saved you if he hadn’t met any of his companions.
Everyone wanted to know what changed and he would just shrug- said it didn’t feel right. The actual reason is far more private.
Astarion didn’t change his mind because you had ultimately given up- he knew Ascending meant he could bring you back as his Spawn. The hungry, lustful power offered by Mephistopheles had been entirely too tempting and he is grateful he had disrespected your mental privacy in that moment.
Astarion has been told by Cazador for two hundred years how genuinely unlikeable and weak he is. The lure of the ritual had tried to push him to show Cazador ‘just how weak he truly is’- it was practically begging him to complete it.
Astarion could not be more grateful that Shadowheart announced your possible impending death. He wouldn’t have taken the time to cross your boundaries and explore your mind- just resorting to turning you into something you didn’t want to be because that bloodthirsty Ascension would allow him to have power and you wouldn’t be able to leave him. You would have been unhappy at first, but he would keep you safe- that had been the Magic’s justification.
The love you feel towards him is even more all consuming than any evil power would ever be. Your thoughts- even in your grief- were full of warmth, love, and happiness for him despite how gut wrenching it was to hear your mental distress at the idea of him Ascending.
Astarion realized that he would not be able to feel that with you again if he ascended. He would never truly know what it feels like to be loved ever again- he’d be too busy wanting more power and possessing your entire being like Cazador had wanted to do.
If Cazador could do this much damage to you- what would he be capable of? Astarion would have you physically, but eventually, you would turn into a ghost of yourself- abused and empty. Just like Sebastian and the other unfortunate individuals who had been unlucky enough to cross his path.
Or you’ll be like him and eventually find a way to kill him so you can be free. Either way he ends up losing you.
Astarion thought that he would feel relief and happiness when he finally killed Cazador, but he actually felt heartbroken when the man dropped to the floor. It pisses him off even now, but Halsin had said something to him afterwards that had somehow been beneficial.
“It’s okay to grieve your chains after you have spent so long learning to love them- to survive them.”
So he sits here and grieves the last shitty 200 years while holding your sleeping form because you make him feel steady and you keep him on the ground. The hint of your perfume and the clean linens is soothing. You are softly snoring and the sound fills his heart with glee.
You are here and you are alive. He doesn’t have to grieve you or himself and that’s all that matters to him at the end of the day.
There is a quiet knock on the door as Isobel, Dame Aylin, and Shadowheart walk in. They tell him they are going to do a group healing prayer over you that should help you feel better and stronger much faster than if they continue to heal you individually.
It was clear it was a ceremony that was “need to know” and Astarion was promptly kicked out of the room. Realistically the whole thing took about 10 minutes, but Astarion felt like he had to wait for hours for them to be done.
When they are finally done- he races back into the room and makes sure not a single hair is out of place. Astarion worries that he’ll be a nervous wreck if you are out of his sight for a while and he hopes you understand.
Astarion tidies up your stuff in the corner of your shared room (the couples were finally told they need to get their own lodgings) when he hears you gasp for air before you frantically look around the room as quickly as your exhausted body can from where you are- your limbs and neck figuratively glued to the bed.
You haven’t seen Astarion just yet, but he wants to assume he might be the one you are looking for and he’s right. Your eyes land on him and your lip is trembling as you look at him- tears drenching your cheeks instantaneously.
Astarion drops your armor, hastily gets into the bed, and holds you while leaving gentle kisses on your hairline. You hold onto him like you are afraid you may never see him again. Your hands are weakly twisted into his shirt and he can just barely hear you begging him not to leave you between heavy sobs.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, “unfortunately for you- I’m never allowing you to leave my sight again, Darling.”
Your laughter comes out as a painful wheeze and Astarion runs circles into your back as you ride out the pain. You snuggle into Astarion’s chest and a sigh of relief escapes your lips. Astarion thinks you may go back to sleep, but then you tense up ever so slightly and he almost misses what you say to him next.
“You didn’t give up on what you wanted for me- did you?” Your voice is small and troubled, “I don’t want to be the thing that kept you from having what you wanted.”
“Yes and no, but not in a bad way,” Astarion says, not wanting you to worry any longer, “I realized that Ascending meant losing myself and you- even if I did bring you back to life as a Spawn, you would have been miserable and unhappy.
“I also realized that my love for you and your love for me is far more valuable to me than all the power in the world. If he could do all of those horrible things to you- what would I be capable of? It just clicked. I realized to Ascend would be to destroy what we have and I wouldn’t be keeping you or me safe- I’d be keeping us captive by selling my soul to Mephistopheles.”
You are so quiet that Astarion thinks you fell asleep, but then he feels your tears begin to stain the fabric of his sleeve.
“I wa- I-,” you are struggling through your tears, “I was so sure I was losing you forever or I was going to be stuck with him forever. I never thought this would be the end result.”
“I, for one, am much happier with this result.”
“Me too,” you smile brightly at him, your voice sounding less retired and rough.
Astarion just takes in your face looking at him, tracing your features with his hands. You are only in your undergarments and lots of medical wrappings due to the amount wounds Cazador had inflicted upon your body.
They must have just cleaned and changed all the wrappings though because the scars that were more superficial are no longer wrapped- just bright red ish purple scars.
The deeper ones on your sides are the ones that had worried Isobel. She had to heal, stitch, heal, and then stitch again before the wound itself finally stayed close. Halsin had been able to cast something to prevent you from waking up during the process and Shadowheart had poured something into your mouth so you wouldn’t feel the pain.
Dame Aylin had shook her head and looked at him.
“After a century or five, it stops weighing on your soul so much- the torture and the pain,” she slowly looks at you, her eyes sad and empathetic, “but that first time? You will never forget that.”
Astarion is probably the only one who knows your Step-dad is a horrible pig, but Astarion had already taken care of that. He also can’t deny that Cazador’s torture is a thousand times worse than anything Bridil could do.
You begin to trace Astarion’s features with your fingers and it jolts him out of his thoughts. Astarion leans in and begins to kiss your lips slowly- taking his time to breathe you in.
There is a question on Astarion’s tongue, but he isn’t sure if he should ask just yet. He wants you to know that he is asking out of readiness and not from a “I thought I almost lost you forever”. Not that he doesn’t want to- he just wants to make sure it’s perfect and not rushed. Astarion has been thinking about this question for a long while now- you are his partner, his best friend, his family.
Astarion has waited for what feels like a lifetime to find someone like you and he wants to spend a whole eternity more with you. He just hopes you’ll say “I do” because Tav Acunín has a very lovely ring to it.
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blu-oo · 7 months
Text
Buggy was Roger’s good luck charm
So I’ve had a headcanon for a while now concerning Buggy and his place on Roger’s crew. It’s no secret that both fans and characters within the One Piece world will look at Buggy and go “How/Why the fuck were you on Roger’s crew?” Hard to say definitively whether or not Buggy actually has good luck considering the absolute hell he has to go through in order to face plant into his power/status, but you still can’t argue that he gains things he is 100% undeserving of lol. Oda’s trolling aside, let’s say that his failing upwards IS purely a result of him having his luck stats set to fucking max with a few buffs tacked on. We can even make this more fun and say the reason Buggy’s luck is so paradoxical is BECAUSE his luck goes to others instead of being reserved for himself (either that or the only reason “failure” is tacked onto this is because Buggy is a jackass and karma doesn’t sleep on her prettiest degenerates). I can see this going down a few different ways:
Maybe they were on an island along the grand line and came across a vendor selling good luck tokens. An ornate looking box catches Roger’s eye, and the vendor starts gushing about how it’s their most “luckiest item” and that it’s very VERY much worth the hefty price tag. It’s also most definitely “a worthwhile investment, trust me! It’ll all pay off in the end!” Whatever that means. Roger’s gut feeling doesn’t need to be told twice, so he buys it. This could be a moment similar to Shanks where they take the box back to the ship only for “SURPRISE! CHEST BABY!” :D to happen again. Roger is no longer allowed to go shopping/haul treasure back to the ship without Rayleigh’s stink eye supervision.
Maybe there’s something similar to the Sabaody slave market where he’s being explicitly advertised as a good luck charm. The person selling him shows off his luck by playing simple tricks (like using cards and gambling with onlookers. Look, if you’re gonna try to sell someone's luck, ya might as well make an extra buck while doing so. And hey, this just proves his good luck charm is working). While the seller is distracted, Roger easily sidels up and eyes Buggy’s mean mug. He asks if Buggy is actually lucky and gets a rudely gestured affirmative. “Great!” He says before yanking the kid up and running off laughing. Rayleigh: what the fuck is that. Roger, tankard in one hand, clown child in the other: a beer.
Maybe Roger just happens upon Buggy and and witnesses his luck in action. Sees how instant karma comes to collect after some pompous jerk spits and belittles little Buggy and immediately he’s shamed and humiliated in front of a bunch of people (in addition to Buggy pit pocketing him in retaliation). He witnesses a merchant make snide and haughty remarks and refuses to sell to Buggy because he’s a visible street rat and then immediately afterwards a flock of rabid seagulls dive bomb his stall and peck at his toupee (a piece of bread is flung and lands right before Buggy’s nose). A group of older teens beating the snot out of buggy and stealing whatever he gained that day only to then immediately run into Roger? Well. Etc. etc. etc. Roger sees all this and more and at this point he decides to take Buggy along just because of how hilarious this all is (Buggy’s eventual love for Roger and therefore his luck beginning to include Roger was just an added bonus).
And since this is such a loose concept (and ignoring that Roger was a D so the following woulda happened anyways lol) we can even say that his luck to Roger is the reason for all the success at the end of his career lol. Edd war? Buggy. Living past his initial expiration date? Buggy. Making it to laugh tale? Buggy, except wait- things didn’t go 100% to plan with that one, huh 🤔🤔🤔🤔 and guess who wasn’t there 🤨🤨🤨🤨 im playing or am i
GASP. OR MAYBE HE HAS ABSOLUTE SHIT LUCK AND HE SAPS THAT SHIT OUTTA EVERYONE AROUND HIM EXPLAINING WHY THEY ALWAYS SOMEHOW LOSE OUT IN SOME WAY INSTEAD OF HIM—
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sevenpoyo · 9 months
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school headcanons for because i only got 3 more weeks
margo’s is so long even tho she got like 2 minutes of screen time bc i love her so much and she’s my gf
Margo Kess, 1610Miles, 42Miles, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar
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margo kess / spiderbyte
ain’t shorty on zoom in the movie?
my girl dont attend class, she once shut down the entire blocks power so she would have an excuse to not be in class
eats in class all class everyday, only shares with you
takes really good notes and never studies them
like???? ma’am??? share???
all her electives are programming related and she pretends to busy while playing centipede all day
sends you 50 links to stuff you might like while ur in math
she got papers that let her opt out of gym
no matter how much you beg ur gonna be alone in gym and she doesn’t feel bad about it
popular with no friends type
like everyday 50 ppl stop you both and say hi
she only knows like 5 of their names she can’t stand half of them niggas
empty ass backpack like she got one notebook and one binder
all a’s and b’s like bitch how
her memory is absolutely ass but she can remember every story you told her or stuff that happened when y’all hang out
don’t ask her what she did in her class
don’t ask her if her class also has a history test
she don’t know
she don’t care
but she do know that when you were 8 your cousin burned ur thigh while y’all were playing iron vs knife fight
(u were dumb as hell for picking knife everyone knows iron always wins)
i looked it up on her word everybody uses those virtual avatars
she’ll shit on your class choices so damn hard
she just likes making fun of your choices fr
like half of ur conversation go;
damn i’m tired
u was up doing stupid shit last night you don’t get to complain
stfu that’s why ur a bitmoji
that’s why ur granny beat ur ass for something your brother did when you were 9
i hate telling u shit
then stop telling me shit
(i have no clue how accurate this is to her character but i need to write about her i’m in love but damn it’s long)
1610 miles / spider-man 2 lmao
book bag full locker full but never has a pencil
writes notes assignments and homework in paint pen ink don’t ask this nigga for notes
(he gets nigga treatment but not my queen margo bc i got favorites)
he miss mad classes but somehow still solid attendance record???
somehow always present in the record he miss 40 days and get caught on like 6 of them
unless his mom make breakfast and lunch on her day off for him he eating the most random shit from the bodega closest to visions
like what do you mean you got a cosmic brownie and a cold chopped cheese from last night ? it’s literally 7 in the morning no i don’t want none
makes you hype him up every time he slap boxes people and he’s so ass at it
he be ashy with no lotion atleast 5 times every month it’s embarrassing
he calls visions his white people school to his parents and his friends
once he said it to gwen and they sat in literal complete silence for like 10 minutes
prolly took music theory because he thought it would be easy and switched out of that shit so fast
i’d be so mean to him for enjoying physics
like this nigga trying to make something of him self
lil einstein ass nigga
he understands color theory but can’t explain it
12 half full sketchbooks but at school he literally draw on computer paper he don’t let the sketch book leave his bag
i know he’s ass at watercolor, he always spills shit, the colors always end up brown
try’s to be interested in your class choices bc he wants to know stuff he can talk about with you
when you first meet he can’t take meaner jokes bc he thinks that you mean them
but one day he’s gets comfortable, and brutal
no one in your life is safe when he looses a video game
except your mom
rio taught him better than that
42 miles / the prowler
comes to school with no school related supplies in his bag unless you count art stuff
finds a pencil on his way to class
has a change of clothes, rat tail comb, 3 bottles of water, a camera, a flashlight, lotion and cocoa butter.
like bro ur going to Ap Art not a camping trip
once he pulled out a griddle and and pancake mix and y’all started making pancakes in class
forgets his metro pass every day and gets so pissed ab it
runs into people in the hallway bc he’s never paying attention
idk if he goes to visions but if he does he calls it his white people school with his full chest to anybody even if they’re white
he be leaving halfway through the day all the time like bro you miss algebra 2 every damn day
uncle arron always talking him out of school with some bullshit reason
bro’s had his tonsils out 8 times on the school’s records
He will get ur parents to put his uncle on ur pickup list and you will be out of there with him
he will YELL if someone step on his shoes no matter what the situation like the school could be on fire and he fighting in the burning building
also his uniform is so pristine
his pants stiff
that button down is bleached ironed pressed and allat
this mfer is an online shopping addict u just know he be on amazon in class
will offer you the weirdest food combos like no i don’t want to put tajin mangoes on my beef patty i’m sick of you nigga
not school related but he’s super good with kids (both miles fr) but he’s the #1 little cousin defender and apologists
he ride for them always one of ur little cousins could sucker punch u and he be like
‘they just want u to play with them’
he takes a preforming arts class for fun prolly
loves sports but doesn’t play one understands the stats well and would help if you played one
wakes up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends
SICK ASS COSTUME FOR HOLLOWEEN IK THIS NIGGA LOVE HOLLOWEEN
plans costumes for school spirit weeks but always checks to seen if he’s gonna be the only one wearing a costume for it
never eats lunch unless his mom makes it he be hungry all day and be complaining
his socks are never in uniform (yes some uniform schools have sock rules)
gwen stacy / spider woman / ghost spider
idk what to call her
she has every snack you could ever want in her lunch bag
hates her music theory teacher
she literally has the most pristine locker with a calendar and a mirror and all that shit will write down test for you and important dates for the both of you
goes to school plays and shits on the story, like she ain’t pay 5 dollars to be there
some of her teachers hate her
like ma’am ur beefing with a whole 16 year old rn
she hate english teachers but love creative writing teachers
she keeps all her books in her locker never brings them home never brings them to class
always comes through with an extra pad no matter what
she also always has hand sanitizer
in like 4 extracurricular after school things and complains so bad
ur starting to hate that shit to ur sick of hearing it like girl quit then
10/10 cameraman she has every fight and every drama in 10khd and she will share them if you ask
she chews her pens and nails
has her drumsticks out always teachers have banned her from taking them to their classes
can watch tv on her phone but look focused you think she’s paying attention but then you look over and she’s watching good luck charlie
pavitr prabhakar / spider-man india
always late for class never in trouble
always eating and sharing food and never in trouble
how is he blessed like this? it ain’t fair
eats from the school vending machines or begs other ppl to share
will always have and share the homework answers no matter what he’s an angel
his sock always have holes in them like sir please get that shit together
gym try hard ik goes insane in football/soccer
very encouraging for shit u don’t wanna do he believes in you
you him and Gayatri talk so much shit but are somehow all well liked
he tells you what teachers are dating (he can just tell)
he has toothpaste in his bag for some reason?? i can just feel this one
his aunt will let you come over after school she’s so sweet to you.
always got a job at school assemblies
he’s reading poems or shaking hand or leading in the school pledge or something
Pav’s is short because i have no fucking clue if school in India is different form america and Barbados
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isa-ghost · 3 months
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you have eggza headcanons perhaps? 👉👈
I will take any headcanons of course, I love your headcanon posts
Previous Sets:
Set 1
Set 2
Set 3
Set 4
Set 5
Set 6
MORE: Eggza Edition
Starting with two I made in previous sets:
When left to his own devices & off-duty as dad + not needed by any of the islanders for something serious, he let's loose. No more wise bad bitch crow man who's palpably emotionally damaged yet won't admit it. He's off the shits. You've seen Eggza. That's him de-stressing by fully indulging his favorite things: preparing necessities for survival & being an absolute wildcard.
When he heard someone on the island made up a rumor that Eggza is legit because Phil taste-tested a cookie out of curiosity, he took that and RAN. Yeah. He's egg sometimes. Who's his parent you ask? Well that's a secret (it's Rose).
Remember how I said he commits to bits super hard? Yeah. Eggza is his second biggest bit after the 4th Wall existentialism but it's quickly surpassing it to his biggest one
Genuinely he enjoys his Eggza time. Everyone knows they'll get nothing but task help out of him more or less, so they more or less leave him alone unless it's to say hi or a chance encounter.
Everyone finds him speaking with signs funny and endearing. Except Tubbo. But that's understandable, dyslexia go brr. Even though the fool sometimes forgets he can tts the signs. It's fine, he's most likely to derail Eggza's cookie grinding so it's better if Tubbo stays away doing Tubbo things
He's torn between the kids witnessing Eggza & never witnessing Eggza. He can't tell what's funnier or if he'd be embarrassed. They've heard stories from other eggs though
He has no interest in making himself Look like an egg. The sign usage is all he needs. And its funnier when you approach your grown ass man best friend Philza Minecraft only for him to look as wild as he did during Purgatory but without the Looks Like He's Dying Slowly part & refuse to talk to you verbally. The "what the fuck is happening here" is the best part of Eggza, if he starts LOOKING like an egg everyone will understand what's going on and that's lame
He bounces off everyone's energy. The more unhinged they are, the more unhinged he is. Unless he's harassing the baker. Then he fuels his own fuckery
The funny thing is he makes sure everyone thinks he's constantly this wild gremlin that only knows one thing: Grind. But really if no one's around while he's grinding, he's actually just straight up vibing. Got headphones in, blasting his jams, doin his work. In his lane, unbothered, flourishing.
I would sell my soul to see Eggza beat the ever-loving shit out of Purgatory workers it'd be so fucking funny holy shit
One of his favorite parts of going Eggza Mode is amusing his friends with the way he's just a nonverbal weirdo. Especially when he answers something they say by just dancing
If He's An Extra Silly Gremlin They'll Give Him Avocado Toast As A Treat
No one knows where he shoos his crows off to when he's Eggza. Or if it's some unspoken "ok time to scatter" rule as soon as he puts the gas mask on by the bakery. But they disperse and for a while, the other islanders can't shake the feeling of Phil seeming strangely bare for some reason. It's bc the murder is away
Tbh I bet even without the Hardcore dreams, he'd sleep a long time with how hard he works as Eggza
"Hard work," I say, as if most of the time Phil isn't just making mobs insatiable amounts of horny so everyone can give the baker what they're asking for (the awareness of this is half of why he's so unhinged as Eggza, it's too absurd & funny to him)
Calling back to another prev non-Eggza hc I made, he has less of a filter when he's not parenting or in peril. He has said some absolutely wild out of pocket shit on signs
If given the right kind of motivation, an islander could probably get Eggza to go feral and kill something or someone. Fit tosses him a stack of whatever arbitrary item Phil might find enticing enough atm & Phil is suddenly on a spree like he was with those bunnies that one time
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the fight
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*takes place in season 2. gif is not mine. credit to owner.*
The sound of Billy’s car made everyone in the Byers’ house freeze. Max’s eyes widened, “Shit! He can’t know that I’m here!”
It had been one hell of a crazy night thus far. There was an absolute massacre at Hawkins Lab. Bob was killed. Demodogs were on the loose creating havoc. Eleven made a badass grand entrance surprising everyone. Will was a spy for the Upside Down. Dustin was hoarding a dead demodog in Joyce’s fridge.
Despite everything that was going on, there wasn’t one hair on Steve Harrington’s perfect head that was out of place. That Farrah Fawcett hairspray was doing wonders.
“Everyone stay in here. I’m going to go handle this.” Steve announced to everyone.
“You’re joking, right?” You asked him.
“No, I’m not. You got any better ideas?”
“Yeah, let me go out there. You and Billy already want to kill each other. Let me go and tell him to kick rocks.” Your suggestion was a million times better than Steve’s. Not even a week ago did you see Billy and your boyfriend almost come to blows in the gym at Hawkins High.
There was already so much going on that you couldn’t handle a battle between Billy and Steve.
“I’m not letting you go out there!” Steve said protectively, “That guy is crazy!”
“I’m not scared of Billy Hargrove. I can handle myself.” You told him defiantly.
Steve rolled his eyes, “If you think I’m going to let you go out there, you’re sadly mistaken!”
You scoffed, “Since when did you turn into my father?”
“Guys?” Mike had been peering out the window, “Someone needs to make a decision soon!”
You didn’t give Steve another opportunity to argue. You beat him to the front door and went outside, shutting it behind you.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the beautiful, (Y/n).” Billy bellowed into the night.
“Bite me, Hargrove.”
You could see Billy smirking, “Didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff.”
“What the hell do you want?” You cut to the chase. You wanted Billy as far away from Max as possible. Even though Max had been in Hawkins a short time, you managed to bond with her. You remember moving into town around the same age as she was. It was difficult to fit in with kids that had been close since birth.
When Dustin introduced you to Max when you arrived at the arcade to pick him up with Steve, you told her that if she needed anyone to chat to or if she wanted to get away from the guys, to reach out. She definitely did. Ever since then, you saw her as a little sister.
“I have it on good authority that my little brat of a sister, Max is here.”
“Well, she’s not. So leave.”
Billy chuckled, “I heard of how feisty you can be. It’s super hot.”
You rolled your eyes so hard that you thought they might fall out, “She’s not here. You can be on your way to torment the rest of Hawkins now.”
Behind you, you heard the front door open. Without turning around, you knew it was Steve. He was stubborn as hell.
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”
“Yeah it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Your boyfriend said as he took a stand beside you.
“I told you that I had things handled.” You muttered.
“Well, from inside it looked like you needed some assistance.”
Billy moved closer. Steve stepped in front of you. There was so much tension in the air that it was almost palpable.
“What are the two of you doing here this time of night?” Billy questioned.
“That’s none of your damn business.” Steve answered.
You quickly stepped in between them. It was like you could see where things were going and it definitely wasn’t good.
“Billy, Max isn’t here. You need to leave. Now.” You warned him. Steve grabbed you by the elbow and held on. He pulled your closer to him.
Billy looked at the house behind you and chuckled, “Oh really? Then who is that?” He pointed at the window and you saw Max peeking with the guys. They quickly ducked down.
You rolled your eyes, “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”
Billy shoved Steve to the ground and kicked him, “I told you to plant your feet.”
Before you could try and stop him, Billy rushed into the house. That’s when all hell broke loose.
It was pure chaos as Steve and Billy fought in the Byers home. When Billy hit Steve with a plate, you saw red. You rushed over and attempted to try and subdue him but he was way too strong. He pushed you aside easily.
Every blow that Billy dealt to Steve was like he was doing the same to you. Everyone was shouting at him to stop but he was a madman.
Max was the one that truly saved the day. She injected Billy with the same stuff that put Will to sleep. You watched in awe as she grabbed Steve’s bat and threatened her brother.
Maxine was a total badass.
She grabbed Billy’s keys and held them up, “Let’s get out of here.”
While you provided aid to a very battered Steve in the backseat, Max sped through the town of Hawkins. It probably wasn’t a good idea to let her drive, but you were absolutely worried about Steve who hadn’t regained consciousness yet.
The plan that the kids came up with was completely ridiculous. They wanted to help Eleven close the gate by distracting the demodogs down in the tunnels. It was insane and you all could get slaughtered but you knew they wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Steve started to stir awake beside you. He moaned loudly while he got his bearings.
“(Y/n)?” You heard him say softly.
“I’m right here.” You gingerly touched his face trying to avoid any of the cuts.
He looked around, saw that Max was driving, then proceeded to scream. “Whoa! What’s going on?!”
“Steve, relax. Everything’s fine! We are going to the tunnels to help Hopper and Eleven.”
Steve did the opposite of relaxing. He groaned and tried to touch his face but you held his hand back.
“Is it that bad?” He questioned.
You hesitated for a small moment, “You gave a valiant effort but Billy kicked your ass.”
“He flung you around like a rag doll, buddy.” Dustin chimed in from the front seat.
Steve gave him a dirty look but frowned when he looked back at you, “I’m hideous, aren’t I?”
You quickly shook your head, “No, you have some cuts and I’m sure you’re going to have some bruising but it’ll all heal and I’ll love you just the same.”
“You promise?” He pouted.
“Of course.”
“Can I get a kiss?”
You leaned over and kissed his lips, being mindful of the cut that was there and avoiding it.
“I love you so much.” Steve practically weeped.
“Aw, sweetie. I think you might have a concussion but I love you so much.”
“Are we almost there? They’re getting sentimental back here!” Lucas shouted.
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gayandfairycore · 1 year
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Distraction
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A/n: a short blurb to get me back into writing I decided what was better then to wrote some good good jj Maybank angst? This is the first time I’ve written for jj so any feedback is greatly appreciated!! Just don’t be mean. Written with a fem reader in mind but there’s no mention of pronouns. Kind of/loosely based off of that scene in teotfw where James gets shot on the beach. But it’s reader. As a distraction;)
Warnings: blood, poor writing, unedited, shootings, cop chase, ambiguous ending, there is literally no fluff here it’s just angst, boarderline suicidal reader.
Pairing: jj Maybank x routledge reader, John b x sibling reader, mentions of the Logies but they get no screen time lol
Summary: when Sarah Cameron’s boat gets followed by a parade of police, your friends need a distraction, and whose better to distract the police then the sibling of the fugitive.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The sands of Kildare beach stuck to your skin as the spray of Sarah’s boat blew into shore, sniffles filled the air
“you guys were right. He didn’t listen.” An array of apologies filled the ears of the girl before the familiar wails of police sirens filled the air, salty sea spray blowing In the wind, soft waves crashed at the shore
“oh shit we gotta run!” “They must have followed you, your dad probably.” The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears with the panicked voices of your friends Your not sure who said what, but frankly you couldn’t care
booking it through strands of grass as hordes of police offices persued you and your friends. Heavy breaths left you as you broke from jjs grasp his hand was sweaty but comforting in yours, you would sorely miss that. Your heart beating a mile a minute.
It was almost as if time slowed, jjs shoes scrapping against the ground, the boy whirling around as you slid to an abrupt halt.
“y/n? What- what- the hell?!?” The blonde boys hand cupping your fore arm “cmon honey we gotta move.” He pleaded his blue eyes glancing hastily between yours and the approaching officers.
“JJ?! What’s takin so long!” John b exclaimed his legs still propelling him forward, as he glanced behind him.
Resting your head against jjs forehead, you whispered a solem “JJ gimme the gun.”
Seriousness sliced through your tone as if it was butter, you were not joking, there was nothing but acceptance on your face as you stared at jj his eyes roaming your face for any indication of jokes.
Finding nothing he questioned “what are you gonna do?” He whispered panic and fear splintered his expression. Pulling the gun from his pocket you smiled blinking tears from your eyes you attempted to muster up some expression of courage
“I can buy you some time. Go.” Your friends bodies freezing at your revelation corusses of no! Absolutely not y/n what the fuck filled the air.
“Go! I can hold them off buy you guys some time to run. i just hope it’ll be enough.” You pleaded your hands shaky as the cold metal of the gun rested against your hand, police were closer now, you were running out of time.
Making eye contact with pope your eyes pleading with the boy, take your sacrifice. And run. And don’t make it be for nothing. A subtle nod from pope put the final cog of your plan in motion, as you broke your hands from jjs, you sprinted I nto the direction of the crowd of police persecuting you looking back at your friends retreating figures.
Jjs panic stricken face as pope held him back pulling him away from the onslaught of cops, the last thing jj heard from you was a;
“Hey assholes! Over here…” you called arms waving above your head pulling the attention of majority “you want us come get us baby!” A coy, and yet determined expre
Your sneakers sinking in the same as you ran police in hot persute, fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins the sharp sounds of gun shots ringing through the air breaking the otherwise tranquil silence, each missed shot blowing up sand behind you, your legs burned, and your lungs pleaded for you to stop, to fill the, with oxygen but you just pushed harder, kicking up sand in the faces of officers behind you, many had seemed to break off when they had realised what you were.
A distraction.
But few still remained, “cmon kid we don’t want to shoot you, but we will.”
Their warnings fell on deaf ears, and yet the warning was not a warning. But a demand. Stray gun shots ricocheted off of the beach it was only a matter of time before one planted itself in your body, at first your body tensed up stopping you from running any further, a bullet bursting through you. A burning pain stabbed at every nerve in your body. Before you felt yourself collapse to the ground, sobs broke from your lips as you laid on the beach, the sand sticking to your skin, as you laid motionless on the ground. Your blood pooling from your wound, as blood rushed to your ears.
Silence deafened you, as any feeling in your body dissipated. Your hands lying at your side. The only thoughts in your head were those of jj, of the Logies, of your brother. Of your dad. Of everything you went through, then the thoughts of weather you did enough, weather your sacrifice was in vain, weather you bought John b enough time or weather you failed to change the world, weather ever you did was for nothing.
An onslaught of tear’s ripped down your cheeks, your eyes felt heavy like no matter what you did you couldn’t keep them open, blackness filled your vision, before glimpses of the world came back in freeze frames, jjs crying face cradling you to his chest, tears flowing from his cheeks his mouth moving but his words falling on deaf ears, his hands stained red from your blood.
The next thing you saw when you came too was the ambulance, a paramedic pulling an oxygen mask over your head, as your head lolled to the side catching glimpses of your crying friends, John b in the back of a police car. And jj angrily yelling at shoupe, kie crying in popes chest.
You felt a stray tear slip down the side of your cheek, any fight you had left slowly draining. Darkness welcomed you like an old friend, it laid upon you like a blanket. There was no sense of defeat, or of failure. Only peace.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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imagine-darksiders · 1 year
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Here's a request, how would Strife and Samael react to accidentally seeing s/o naked for the first time? Like they are getting ready to bathe or something and thought they were alone. They didn't know anyone would be there, and when Strife/Sam do see them, s/o is oblivious. Like they realize very quickly "aw shit, s/o is cute...", Inner monologue stuff about s/o and their new feelings. I have a thing for pining. Real romance fluff with a suggestive hint. Nothing happens, this doesn't have to be nsfw if you don't want it to be. I just want your take on their reactions cause I think they would both range very differently. I chose those two cause they are my favorite. If you don't wanna do this one, that's ok too. I just really like your writing and how you interpret things. Thank you again.
Samael:
It's a common assumption among those who don't know him personally, that the Demon Prince, Samael, is a debauched and lascivious snake who would only relish in the chance to catch a human unawares.
It's a common assumption. But so often common is confused with correct.
He's a prince. Be that of Hell or Heaven or any realm in-between, he knows how to behave like a gentleman when needs be.
To his own surprise, he's found himself falling more and more into that courtly conduct ever since he managed to get his claws on the Horsemen's little human, swiped by his own claws right from underneath their noses.
'Nothing personal,' he'd told you while you thrashed and beat at the vast, scaly fingers wrapped around your torso, 'This is all tactics, you understand.'
With the Horsemen focusing all of their efforts into tracking you down – they've yet to work out that he's behind your disappearance – Samael is free to move his players across an unguarded chess board. A classic – if risky – slight of hand.
Oh, he imagines they'll try to kill him once they discover you hidden here in his fortress at Shadow's Edge, but that's hardly of any concern to a Prince of Hell. If he thought the Horsemen were a genuine threat, he wouldn't have provoked them by taking their precious, little human.
They won't be able to deny, when they eventually find you, that he's been nothing if not a most gracious host. You aren't a political enemy, after all, you're an innocent bystander in his game of cat and mouse.
He's placed you in one of the Eastern towers - under guard and lock and key, of course – where every amenity has been made available to you. A spacious chamber, adorned by a luxurious bed with silken, ruby-red sheets. An adjacent nook that boasts a king-sized bathing pool for you to maintain your hygiene....
If anything, you're less of a prisoner, and more of an unusual guest, though such 'special treatment' has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your affinity for story-telling far surpasses the talents of his own subjects.
All you have to do is recite Earthen fairy-tales to him, plots of films you can still remember, stories from the books you used to read at school, and every single one of them is eagerly eaten up by the demon Prince, specifically those that have happier endings.
Those very stories are the reason Samael finds himself striding down the corridor to your chambers now, with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the impressive claws at the end of each of his toes clicking sharply against a black-stone floor.
Last night, you'd half-finished a tale of a caterpillar with an absolutely voracious appetite, but you'd fallen asleep just before the most crucial climax. He'd half a mind to shake you conscious again and demand you tell him how the gluttonous little insect earns his downfall through hubris and greed, but in the end, he permitted you your scant few hours of fitful sleep.
Perhaps the ending you have in store will have been worth the wait...
The phantom guards posted outside your room snap to attention as he passes them by, though their master doesn't spare either of them so much as a fleeting glance, stepping leisurely up to the tattered, scarlet curtain that separates your chambers from the corridor outside.
And that's when he hears it - a sound so seldom heard in Hell, it actually startles the Prince into slowing his gait as his scowl comes undone, softening the deep-set creases carved between his brows.
He pauses at the curtain and twists an ear towards the noise...
... Music?
Slowly, he eases his crooked knuckles beneath the curtain and lifts it aside, hesitating for another moment to discern that his ears really aren't deceiving him. That's music he's hearing. More specifically, it's singing.
You are singing.
He's spoken with you enough times by now to recognise your voice in spite of the melodious notes of a song that drift into his ears from somewhere beyond the bed chamber.
But then, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Of all the denizens residing in his fortress, who among them is the most likely to burst into song other than the human?
Eyes of liquid fire scan the room and find it devoid of his prisoner, until they land upon the arched entrance that leads into the adjacent bathing quarters.
He recalls how you'd been stunned almost speechless the first time he showed you the enormous pool cut out of an obsidian floor.
He'd taken the liberty to drain it of lava before filling it up again with clean, un-poisoned water – a rare commodity in Hell, given the rate of its evaporation.
“Why?” you'd asked, squinting up at him dubiously.
Samael's face had remained perfectly set like the stone underfoot as he hummed his reply, “I assumed humans preferred to bathe in water. Not molten lava.”
That wasn't what you'd meant, and he knew it, but you'd been sensible enough not to look a gift demon in the mouth, as it were.
Lifting his nose to take a whiff of the air, Samael pads like a graceful predator across the chamber, following the sound of your voice.
Until the day comes when he no longer sits on the throne, he'll staunchly deny that his footsteps fall just a little more softly against the stone in his endeavour to remain unnoticed by the room's occupant.
Deftly, he manoeuvres around a scattering of garments that have been strewn haphazardly about the chamber, quirking one solid, scaly brow at them as he passes. 'Odd,' is all he muses.
Under normal circumstances, you're never seen without your flimsy attire.
Finding his curiosity piqued, Samael ducks his crooked horns and steals into the dark doorway, casting an eye languidly across the baths, only to freeze in his tracks, his whole body going utterly still from the horns on his head to the tip of his long, sweeping tail.
As if the singing weren't enough of a shock, you suddenly come dancing into view, swinging your hips to and fro like a pendulum. You're facing away from the doorway, thank the Void, but that's hardly what the demon Prince is focused on.
Standing there on the first step of the bath, bobbing your hips to the tune of your own song, he sees you.
All of you.
There isn't a shred of clothing present to preserve your modesty, no undergarments, nor a single strip of cloth, not a thread to your name.
Samael's silvery pupils dilate, expanding out of slits until they sit soft and round in his yellow eyes.
Rather perplexingly, he doesn't wheel himself backwards out of the entryway as soon as he registers your state of undress, though he chalks this up to being struck with simple, scientific curiosity at having stumbled upon a human in their most natural state.
Why, any second now, he's sure he'll feel that familiar wave of disgust surge up like bile and turn his stomach, because what is the human body if not a small, featureless sack of squelching meat?
Any second now...
Surely...?
Despite the weak-willed voice in the back of his head trying to convince him to turn away, the demon's eyes remain firmly adhered to you, and his ears twitch and flick towards the sound of your voice, anxious to catch every note you sing.
What is the human body...?
It's very.... gentle, he observes through a sudden haze that knocks him ever so slightly off-kilter.
A golden stare roll up the length of your legs, tracing the path of your spine and lingering on the back of your fragile neck.
There isn't a single, sharp edge to your body. No jagged horns or spines jutting through your skin, no tough and unforgiving scales to protect you from the elements, no natural weapons in the form of fangs or claws.
A body like yours was never intended to cause hurt.
What a flawed design.
What a brave design.
Before he can keep it at bay, a memory of Lilith pushes to the forefront of his mind – of her cruel lips that twist into a smirk and her hateful glares that try to poison his heart as she lays underneath him on their shared bed, claws like knives cutting into his scaly forearms to draw as much pain from him as she can, all in the name of 'making love.'
But what if....?
As the demon Prince gazes down at you, transfixed, the image of your naked body slips seamlessly in to replace Lilith's in his mind's eye. Her feral snarl gives way to something kinder, something sweeter, welcoming.
And suddenly, there you are, spread out in his Queen's place on the red, silken sheets, surrounded by the treasures he's draped you in during a wild and scandalous courtship. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to ravage the body under his, though maybe he'd remind you that he could, if you'd only ask him to.
No. Perhaps, instead, you'll prop yourself up against the mountain of pillows he'd given you to nest in, and you'll cradle his head in your lap, your clawless fingers stroking gently up and down the space between his impressive horns as you tell him stories well into the night, listening to the crackle of the wall sconces together.
'Is that what it must be like?' he wonders, 'to take a lover who has no interest in power or status?' That must be what the stories mean, when they talk of love for love's sake.
Ah... But that kind of love has no place in Hell. The selfless kind. Altruistic. Here, one either loves to gain power, respect, and to rise through the social ranks, or one simply doesn't love at all.
In all the years he's sat on the throne of Hell, never once did he think he'd find himself so captivated by the sight of a human with no clothes on.
The leathery membrane folded between his wings starts to creak as they gradually spread open, driven by an ancient and well-buried instinct to appear bigger, stronger, more suitable than any other demon in the fortress...
He doesn't even notice that his tail has begun to sweep silently from side to side in perfect tandem with the swing of your hips.
Regardless of his imposing presence lurking just behind you in the doorway, you still don't seem to have noticed that you have an audience, and you likely would have gone on with your oblivious dance had the demon Prince not sabotaged himself moments later.
He never meant to do it. He's certainly never been caught doing it before, not even when he was trying to court an impassive Lilith.
Somewhere deep inside his almighty chest, the demon's muscles begin to quiver, pulsing together as they work to push a strange sound up through his throat - something between a contented hum and an unmistakable, mortifying purr.
You notice the sound before he does, but his reactions are sharper than your own.
Your song trails into uncertain silence, there's a whoosh of air and an enormous shadow flits backwards through the doorway just as you turn around to investigate, curling your arms around yourself in anticipation of finding a peeping-tom.
… The entrance is empty.
The Phantom guards scramble to attention when their master suddenly comes storming out of your chambers, his tail lashing like a whip and his mighty chest heaving in and out as if he's trying to stoke a fire in his lungs.
Gleaming fangs crush themselves together as he thunders aimlessly down the corridor, his only concern in distancing himself from the room of his prisoner.
What was that?
What the Hell was that!?
Of all the ridiculous, humiliating, puerile things for a Prince to do.
A purr...
A purr!
At his age! And one directed at a human no less.
He's Samael! Accuser, Seducer. Prince of Demons and Lord of Darkness. He's well above the feeble allure of the flesh.
... But it wasn't just your flesh that tempted him, was it?
Samael's lips curl to bare his teeth as he viciously swipes the thought away with another lash of his tail.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself resolutely. You hadn't seen him, nobody witnessed the event, you'll carry on none-the-wiser while he strikes the whole mishap from his memory.
The Horsemen will come and take you away, as he intended.
Yes... Just as he intended.
EDIT: Holy shift I just realised I got so caught up in Samael's story, I never wrote Strife's!!!!!!! I'm so sorry!!!!
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mangowafflesss · 8 months
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Hi beautiful! This is my first time applying and I wanted to apply to you since you're my favorite COD writer so I'm really nervous and embarrassed about what I'm going to ask for...
I wanted to ask you if you could do a Ghost x Fem Reader scenario where they meet for the first time and the reader wants to flirt with him since she likes him a lot but the problem is her insecurity since she has a… erm… well…. a somewhat ugly scar (you could say that it deforms his face a bit) on one side of his face due to an accident. How would things develop? Does she get the value? Does Ghost care or not?
I'm sorry if this bothers you and you have every right to ignore this request, and also excuse my English as I'm using a translator.
Have a beautiful day/afternoon/night.♡
Hello my love! I hope you’re well <3 sorry if this isn’t very good and out of character I’m slowly getting back to writing for the Cod men 🫶 (don’t be embarrassed to ask me anything either!)
You had met him once while walking around base, carrying a box filled with things that were overflowing. It was the fifth thing that fell out of the box and you wanted to throw them against the wall and let someone else deal with it, but you wouldn’t because that was immature.
“Need help?” You heard a voice ask which made you jump out of your skin. When you looked you saw Ghost and was mesmerised. You’ve somehow managed to develop a certain crush on him even though you’ve never really had a conversation with him before. It was silly really because you knew you’d never have a chance with well the sight of your face.
One of your commanding officers once said that they didn’t need guns to scare them off and instead use your face. Which did absolute wonders for your mental image.
You’d gotten into a terrible fire when you were just starting out and it didn’t end well for one side of your face. You’ve always been insecure about it but over time you’ve grown to not let it control your life.
“If you don’t mind Sir” you say while readjusting the box in your arms but in one blink it disappears from your arms into his. You picked up the fallen items and carry them in your hands so the spillage doesn’t happen again.
“Where to?”
“Umm, communications”
It was obvious where you were going to, they were multiple of the same radios but he must’ve thought you were using them for something else.
The walk was silent and you were having a battle inside of your head. Do you talk to him? Does he want to talk?
Who knows when you’ll get the chance again.
“I like your mask” you bit your lip as you blurted out this four words. Oh god were you supposed to mention the mask? Way to go idiot.
“Mhm, you’re probably the only one that does” you heard a little chuckle and your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t really find his mask weird but you’ve always thought it would be uncomfortable but you’re just imagining it on your skin. It would probably irritate your damaged skin and cause much discomfort but clearly not for him.
“Do you work on the field?” He suddenly asks and you give him a brief look before answering. “I used to but I’m more of on the IT side of things now” you say with a shrug of the shoulders which he nods to and turns the corner.
You open the door to the room and invite him inside, there wasn’t much space so you tell him to just place it onto the floor. “Thank you so much, you really helped me not to loose my cool”
“No problem maybe don’t overload the box next time” he says before leaving and you shut the door and smile to yourself. Your first ever conversation with him.
Weeks later pass and you’ve been seeing him around more often. There was always a small acknowledgment exchanged but never full blown conversations until one lunch time.
“Shit, how could I forget my stupid lunch” you were rushing to go eat something until you ran straight into someone. “Oh I’m sorry-” you say but are cut off when you notice who it is.
“It’s alright no harm done” he says and you take a step back before you do anything stupid. “Where you off to in such a hurry?” He questions but you’re dumbfounded at him actually talking to you again.
“Uh- to get some food. Do you want to come with?” You can’t control your mouth and internally cringe at your eagerness. “I was heading there myself”
He was? So why was he walking this way?
“Would you like to eat with me?”
Oh shut up why would he want to do that, stop getting your hopes up idiot.
You kick the voice in your head to the side and wait for his answer, he seemed to be conflicted and you prepared yourself for rejection until he nodded “sure lead the way”
Smushing down your excitement you continue with your walk and smile to yourself when he couldn’t see.
As you both ate you caught sight of a scar near his lip and wonder if he had more, probably right? But you also noticed the other people in the room whispering. You still had ears so you could hear what they talked about and kept your head down while eating your food.
Ghost noticed your change in attitude and stared at the people around the room talking about you. Ghost had noticed your face but he didn’t care at all, he’s seen people far worse than you throughout his career.
But people weren’t like Ghost, they carry the judgmental trait throughout their bodies and gossip about anyone they don’t think fits in society. Scars are survivors marks, no matter how small or big they are, they always tell a story that probably carries trauma.
“Don’t listen to them”
Your head lifts from your uninteresting food and instead makes contact with brown eyes that remind you of your coworkers coffee.
“It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to but it still stings” you reply and he settles down his fork and places his arms over his chest.
“I know how you feel but you’re clearly better than me” he says pointing to his mask and you just shrug “I never thought about a mask but then again what if I fall in love and they just fall for the mask” you sigh and push around the food on your plate with disinterest.
“It isn’t about what you look like, it’s about what you are as a person” his words made you feel different, would he like you with a face like this? Maybe he wouldn’t mind seeing he’s got his own issues.
Months later you became close friends, eating together, laughing and overall close to one another.
When you confessed to having feeling though? You were a complete mess, you couldn’t hide them anymore but when you told him, you broke down into tears and he watched in confusion.
“Why are you crying?” His hands were on your shoulders and kept you at a distance, you guys never were close physically but you knew this was as comforting as he could be right now - due to past experience.
“You wouldn’t love someone like me, look I’m absolutely hideous!” You sob and he moves his hands from your shoulders to your face. “Do you really thing I care?” He chuckles and you look at him with blurry vision and frown.
“You’re the most beautiful person I know, remember what I told you when we first had lunch together?”
‘It isn’t about what you look like, it’s about what you are as a person’
You nod your head and he lifts his mask, you’ve seen him without it before but had never explored his features much. Scars run along his face but you still feel insecure about yours.
“Forget about your face and all that crap because it’s what’s inside of here that captured my attention” he pokes one of his meaty fingers at your chest and your heart beats hard at the contact and you give him a shy smile.
“Really? I captured you?” You giggle and he sighs before running a hand down his face.
“Yes and if you’ll have me, I wish to explore our friendship more” he says but you sense a bit of insecurity or nervousness in his tone.
“Of course, if you’ll have me”
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promptsfromthecrypt · 26 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  𝐌𝐘  𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 : 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐      ♡      𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎  𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.
per  request  in  high  demand ,  here’s  a second  list  of    absolutely  batshit ,  out  of  pocket  things  my  original  character  has  said.    triggers  and  nsfw   will  be   present  in  this  specific  meme.
“ there aren't enough men crumbling at my feet. ”
“ knocked loose pit , but it's just me shaking my ass for dollars to ARF ARF! ”
“ i need to girlypop in the pit so bad. ”
“ i wanna beat my father with his own bones. ”
“ he is so mean and unfriendly , i have GOT to fuck him. ”
“ cream cheese wontons , my beloved . . . ”
“ it's okay to not have a valentine on valentine's day. i didn't have a father on father's day. ”
“ can i put ‘ gives great head ’ on my resume? ”
“ there's either a latte or vodka in this mug. ”
“ the sluttiest thing a man can do is wear jewelry. ”
“ sometimes you're just a 25 second ryan kirby scream away from mental clarity. ”
“ this bitch will be like , ‘ i’d rather die than have a complex thought ’ , and then text me at 2am to tell me the deepest introspective shit i’ve ever heard. ”
“ just know that if i ever slept with you , it was an act of self–harm. ”
“ if loving sluts was a crime , i'd do life. ”
“ i crawled out of my coffin like this. ”
“ some of you didn't grow up a stigmatic and it shows. ”
“ life update : cheeks still fat enough to be clapping when i breathe. ”
“ hey , sorry i've been radio silent. i self–isolated to be quirky. ”
“ ask me what's in my fanny pack. yes , it is spaghetti , and yes there’s also garlic bread. you never know when a bitch will get hungry. it’s my first aid kit. ”
“ when you're mean to me , do you stop to consider i have a huge rack? ”
“ i’m aware he’s committed several atrocities , but have you stopped to consider he’s my babygirl? ”
“ i don’t have mental stability. i have a fat ass. it’s an equal trade off. ”
“ having a soul connection with a man is so embarrassing. i need to be lobotomized. ”
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almostgigi · 8 months
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Keep Breathing | s.h x reader
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I absolutely love Steve, but I never write about him, except for this time. Consider this a gift to your heart if you might, a spur to further projects.
WC: 2k
For the way that he was acting towards me I could sense that he was not okay. The days went by and he was more shut down with me. Got me wondering what could have I done to make him be like that. In my defense, if you knew this guy the way I did, you’d know that Steve “I’m fine” Harrington was a big fat liar. He refused to talk about his feelings or whatever shit he was going through, like a skilled ninja he would avoid the topic every time.
To me, he was my everything, not just a friend, but the best one. That person who would stand up for me whenever I needed or fight for me or just listen to me. He was a good listener, every time I called him because I felt sad he would waste no time and appear in my doorstep with my favorite chocolate. Spend the night holding me and cleaning my face when my make up would smudge. Reassure me until I stopped crying and kiss my forehead when I was ready to sleep, just to caress my face and hair and hum my favorite song so the vibration of his chest would calm me down.
But he needs me now, and I don’t know how to approach him without being too obvious about it. It’s been a year since Hawkins was destroyed and almost a year since I know him. He became such an important part of my life, a person I would die for, no pun intended. For all the times he was there for me, I wanted to be there for him now, I just had to find the perfect moment to ask. Today we were hanging out, watching a movie. It was really boring and I was not paying attention to it and neither was he. I was too deep in my thoughts.
“¿what is going on in that pretty head of yours today?” he was holding me against his chest to make sure I was comfortable. Both on the couch, with our feet on the little table in front of it.
“nothing, it’s...nothing” I looked at him, he gave me his best confused look. “I mean it, it’s nothing” my hand resting importance at the topic.
“hurts me that you think I’m that stupid” arm leaving the side of my hip where it was resting before. “I know you’re worried but I happen to be a little tired as to investigate right now so I would like you to just tell me straight away, if you trust me, obviously”
I was a nervous wreck and his eyes never leaving mine weren’t helping. It’s no surprise to me at this point to feel like this since I know how nice he made my heart feel. I kinda notice this the night I called him because I had a nightmare and I was too scared to sleep alone so he drove to my place and slept with me while holding me. Later on I knew he fought with his parents that night before I called, but he came anyways, he choose to be with me, and care for me, and I thought that was the sweetest thing no one ever did for me. I had fallen for him. But his heart did not beat for me.
“you’re gonna get mad at me” he will, I know it. Every time I would talk about it, and they were just a few because I hated when he was mad, he would change around me and be distant. That treatment killed me.
“honey, I can’t be mad at you. I won’t, what is it? C’mon” he adjusted himself in the couch to face me and held my hand.
“I-I know you haven’t been very well lately, I wish you would talk to me” the grip of his hand in mine became more loose.
“I do talk to you, like, all the time” I know he’s playing dumb, but I’m being totally serious this time.
“that’s not what I mean, and you know it. I know everything you went through was overwhelming but I haven’t heard you talk about it once” I was actually begging for him to break down and I was hoping he did it with me, cause I wasn’t gonna let go of him any time soon.
“maybe that’s because I don’t want to talk, it’s not something I hold against you, I actually wish I could do what you want me to do but I can’t” don’t know why but his confession did not make me flinch even once, like I said, I knew he was tired of everything, it wasn’t new to me. I just needed him to be able to move on, to grow out of it. I stayed quiet for a while after that. Both still seated in the couch like before. Our breathing could be heard from miles away.
“I’ll go to sleep” I said as I stand up and let go of his hand. The situation was cold and I couldn’t keep being there if he was gonna be like that. I went to my room and got under the covers of my bed as it’s was cold in there. Not long after that I hear Steve’s steps coming closer.
“are you really mad at me right now?” his tone was demanding, but also worried. We would hate to be mad at each other. I did not respond. “c’mon pretty, you know I can’t stand being like this with you” it killed me to hear him like that, but my pride was bigger. He sighed. “please, just talk to me” ironic he’s the one asking for that now. I remained silence. Not like I didn’t want to talk, but something inside me was keeping me from it. “I seriously can’t believe you’re this mad for something that is not even that important. Like.. what do you want me to say?” his hands flew to his face, covering it in frustration. He started pacing around not knowing what to do. “ugh, I just.. you know how hard everything has been for me.. how much shit I took there. But I don’t know what you expect from me” he was being mean, but those words came from anger. Still hurt tho. “you’re just goin’ to ignore me? You asked for this, you should be listening”
“I am listening, Steve, but you’re being mean and I don’t want to take that now” I wanted to add – because I love you – but it’s not the right moment to do that.
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I being too mean to the princess right now?” his tone being cocky while making fun of me was something I never wanted to experience. But to be honest, I never really thought about it before, it just wasn’t real to me. “you wanna know what’s mean? You really wanna know?” my eyes went to him moving around, brows almost together from frowning. I could feel the tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes. “mean is what those Russian men did to me, beat the shit out of me for no reason. Mean is being almost strangled to death by some weird ass animals” he was talking. I observed him with caution, his eyes wide open, his expression tired. “do you know the consequences of any of that?” he started taking his shirt off “I have this fucking mark on my neck forever, and this scar in my tummy, and every time I see it I remember it all” his breathing was becoming heavier and heavier. His chest was moving too fast as I look intensely to his scars, analysing deeply. He never showed them to me before, so this is shocking to see. “but this is not yet the meanest thing at all” his voice was almost like a scream. “the meanest thing is that nobody cares, not my so called friends, nor my parents. My parents.. they-” he choked on what seemed to be the beginnings of a cry. I stood up slowly from the bed, looking into his eyes, not leaving them for a second. Stand right in front of him. He was trying really hard to restraint the tears while breathing slow. “why does nobody love me?” he asked, and right there I could see it, he was about to break down.
“that’s not true” I say calmly, reassuring him as he needs. He lifts his head and stares at me.
“yes, it is. I haven’t heard of my friends for over a year. We went through the most traumatic experience of our lives and they don’t care” sobbing like crazy, he couldn’t handle it for much longer. “did you know last time mom and I talk without screaming I was 14? And don’t get started on my dad, cause that man hasn’t love his kid since he was born” the tears are no longer able to stay in. “am I that hard to love?”
“NO!” I answer immediately. “you’re not, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. No one ever has cared for me like you do, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me” and that was true, he needed the words. And almost instantly he starts to cry, and I wonder why the best people have to suffer this much.
I don’t wait any longer and put my arms around his neck, but it’s too tall for me. When he realizes that I’m holding him, he puts his arms around my back, pressing me really tight against his body. But like I said before, it’s too tall for me and finally, after a bad move, we both fall on the bed. His weight all over me makes me hiss in his ear and he turns to see me. His face all red and his eyes full of tears.
“did I-did I hurt you?” he asks. Even when he was the main character of the situation he had to make it about me, cause that is who he is. Always caring about others before him.
“no baby, I’m fine” and for some reason me calling him that made him cry even more. His head went straight to my chest, resting there while he cried so loud.
“I’m s-sorry, this is so embarrassing. But I-I can’t anymore” his breathing was a mess and hearing how hurt he was, all the time he needed to release the pain. It was hurting me too.
“don’t even dare to apologize to me or anyone for crying, it’s a normal thing, and even if you don’t do it never you have the right to do it and it shouldn’t be embarrassing” I said while rubbing his back. He kept crying and holding me strongly. “shh, it’s okay”
“it’s n-not fair” he sobbed. And he’s right. Nothing in his life is fair, always trying to be the perfect child, the perfect friend, the perfect man. And all of that for what? For people to not validate him? I can understand what is like to work so hard on yourself just to feel like nothing really matters anymore at the end. “I wanted to be strong, for you”.
My heart sinks in my chest. My head can’t stop spinning. “You don’t need to be strong for me, baby. You need to be strong for you, but sometimes feelings like this are allowed, you’re allowed to release the pain in order to move on” my hand, that was stroking his back, moves to his hair and I start to put my fingers in between his locks. “just because you take care of everyone doesn’t mean you can’t be sensitive sometimes” he places one of his hands in my chest to accommodate himself, very close to my neck. “plus, you have me, always. If you need comfort, or support I’ll be here. You know I’m yours...” fuck “your s-s-”
“I know” he replied “I’m yours too” shitshitshit. That sounded so sleepy. We stayed in the same position without saying anything for a while more until I felt him fall asleep. I kept his last words in my head for the entire night, thinking if he meant them in the same way I did. Finally I fell asleep too.
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htchnr · 4 months
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★ nsfw alphabet ❥ D. O'DONNELL.
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PAIRING ➻ David O'Donnell x Fem!reader.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ the header has me screaming honestly, he's JUST SO 😩🤭 this was both fun and challenging to write, hope you guys enjoy it 😉😁
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★ - © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! - ★
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Aftercare (what they’re like after the act?)
❥ he's an absolute sweetheart. you need water? already on his way to get a glass. need a bath? already running and almost full. need a massage to relax your sore muscles? say less.
❥ if the sex was particularly rough, or maybe he said certain things that were a little on the edge, he'll be the sweetest man ever afterwards, holding you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair.
Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers?)
❥ he is most definitely a tits man. he just l o v e s your tits so much. doesn't matter how small or large, he loves them SO much.
❥ he's always been a tits man, but one day when you were wearing the most flattering shirt, he realised just how much he loves your tits. safe to say, he bought you a few extras of that shirt after he showed you just how much he liked it ;).
Cum (anything that has to do with it)
❥ L O V E S to cum all over your tits. we've established how he's a tits man, he absolutely looses it when he cums all over them.
❥ he also LOVES to cum inside you if you allow it, but nothing beats shooting his load a l l over your tits.
Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
❥ secretly really enjoys being tied or cuffed to the bedframe as you either go down on him or ride him. throw in a blindfold as you tease the shit out of him with barely there touches or licks, oh boy he's in for a great time.
Experience (do they know what they’re doing?)
❥ definitely has plenty of experience. in the show people make a few comments on how he's had a lot of past lovers/flings, so we know he's got plenty of experience ;).
Favorite position
❥ in order — 1. cowgirl. he LOVES bouncing you up and down in his lap, his face in your tits. 2. missionary. loves watching your expressions closely as they morph into pure pleasure. also loves being able to burry his face into the crook of your neck. 3. doggy style. pretty self explanatory really, loves roughly pulling your ass flush against his front, watching himself disappear inside you. also loves to occasionally pull back your hair ;).
Goofy (how serious are they?)
❥ it really depends on the situation before hand — he can be really serious, yet he can also be light hearted and sweet. i think he can pretend to be really serious, but on a base line i think this man could never be 100% serious.
Hair (grooming habits)
❥ definitely clean shaven down there. light hair covers his chest and fades out to barely anything on his stomach. also has relatively thick happy trail starting at his belly button. light hair also covers his arms, slightly thicker hair covering his legs.
Intimacy (in the moment are they more romantic or more rough/dirty?)
❥ once again, it depends on the situation before hand — he can be super sweet, gentle and romantic — but he can also be really dirty and rough about it, man handling and mocking you until he gets what he wants — or guiding you with the gentlest touch and sweet words.
Jack off (do they masturbate and how often?)
❥ definitely jerks off a fair bit. especially while you two are together and he gets heated while you're away — he's definitely jerking off a lot. is also absolutely down for mutual masturbation ;).
Kink (kinky things they like doing/having done)
❥ k n i f e k i n k. he LOVES (only if you're okay with it.) fucking you with his switchblade against your throat. or dragging the blade down from your throat till your stomach, making you shiver under his touch..
❥ definitely also has a thing for formal clothes — seeing you all dressed up in a fancy dress and stockings sends him into an absolute f r e n z y.
❥ scratch. marks. he LOVES to have his back covered in scratch marks. loves the slight sting of them the next day, and loves being reminded of you in that way, in pure ecstasy, scratching at his back as he fucks you.
Location (where they like to get it on?)
❥ literally anywhere. against the counter, on the table, bent over the couch — anywhere. though he'll say that he doesn't have a preference, he definitely loves you on top of him on the couch.
Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
❥ so much honestly. teasing him about things, bending over to pick something up, wearing cute little dresses or skirts. also goes into a frenzy when you apply your lipstick in a certain way, he doesn't know why it gets him going, all he knows is that he either wants to fuck your lips are kiss them.
❥ also get unbelievably hot and bothered when you're having clever moment, say you work with him and you go on a rant pointing out a bunch of things he missed and it all suddenly clicks, he wants to pounce you right then and there.
No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
❥ intentionally hurting you would be a definite no. he may have an absolute knife kink, but if he accidentally nicks you he would immediately stop and take care of the wound and relentlessly ask if you're okay.
❥ anal is also a definite no. not a finger, not a toy goes down there.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
❥ loves, loves, LOVES going down on you. cannot get enough of it, and if you allow him — he'll spend the whole day eating away between your thighs.
❥ i feel like he's more a giver than a receiver, but he absolutely would not turn you down if you went down on him. he loses his shit when you go down on him.
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
❥ definitely prefers a relatively fast pace, but depending the mood is absolutely not opposed to slow and deep. he can definitely last a while before he cums — though if it's been a while since the last time you went at it, he will definitely not last as long as usual, merely happy to finally be in you again.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer quickies, or taking their sweet time?)
❥ definitely prefers taking his time, but also absolutely loves quickies — loves taking you up against the front door before he leaves for work, or in the bathroom at a bar before going back out to drink and join your friends, or fucking you up against your vanity just before the two of you go to work, as the way you applied your lipstick got him going.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things?)
❥ he loves to stick to what he knows, but if you come up to him and ask to try something knew, he could never say no to you. unless it's something he absolutely does not want to do.
❥ as for risks — he is absolutely up for risky semi/public sex. got all riled up while out at work? he has no problem taking care of it for you in a public bathroom, or tucked away in an alley.
Stamina (how many times they can go?)
❥ he can FUCK. for a hot minute. depending on how busy his day was he can last anywhere from 2 to 4 rounds — taking small breaks in between. though if the day was long or busy, he can last 1 to 2 at best. he definitely will try to make it more, but usually finds himself too exhausted by the end of the first round or halfway round two.
Toys (do they like using toys on themselves or lovers?)
❥ he's not the biggest fan of using them on you, he much prefers doing everything himself — but he's absolutely not opposed to you using them on yourself. and if you bat your eyes, he might not be opposed to you using them on him ;).
Unfair (do they tease or do they enjoy being teased?)
❥ loves LOVES L O V E S teasing. so damn much. he loves nothing more than to tease you till you're hot and bothered, be it in public, or at home. if he's away for work, and it's not too serious, he will definitely tease the fuck out of you till you're begging him to come home.
Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk during the act?)
❥ i don't think he's really loud, but he definitely pants fairly loud and whines.
❥ depending on the mood and the direction the moment is going he might be more vocal, moaning and groaning more loudly, or mostly just letting you hear his breath catch and his low whimpers in your ear..
❥ definitely talks you through it — praising or degrading you, letting you know how much he loves it, he's got the foulest mouth on him.
Wild card (random headcannon of any sort)
❥ loves it when he's wearing a tie and you tug him by it to kiss him — or alternatively, when you're pissed and you tug on it to get your point across. makes him go absolutely insane ;).
Yearning (sexdrive level)
❥ high. so high. anything gets him going honestly. i think once the two of you have properly settled down it'll lessen a little though, and if the two of you were to have kids it wouldn't necessarily lessen, but more be a lower priority than other feelings and needs.
Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after?)
❥ definitely not immediately, aftercare is important to him. he can't find it in him to think about falling asleep before making sure you're okay/cleaning up and taking care of you. if it was a long day and the sex really took it out of him he'll definitely fall asleep quicker. but if it's a relatively relaxed day, it'll take him a little longer.
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taglist — @sheen4gh @toast8410
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