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#songfic?
ivybucky · 7 months
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First Time - b.b. x gn!reader
Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.
a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k
Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)
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Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 
Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 
The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.
“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.
Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”
Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”
He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 
Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 
He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”
The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.
“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 
Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”
With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”
He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”
You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”
Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”
Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”
You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”
The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”
Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 
“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”
Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 
He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal
Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 
Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 
The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 
Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.
Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.
Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.
To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.
John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 
“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”
You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”
He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”
“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”
You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”
____
The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 
You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.
He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.
The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 
You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”
You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 
“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 
He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”
You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”
Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”
You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”
Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”
You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”
Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”
You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 
You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”
Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol
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i-like-anything-water · 2 months
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You Belong with Me (kinda) inspired AU because I don't think I can write it consistently. Chlonette.
Marinette is an artist and still an aspiring fashion designer. While she isn't unpopular, she's mostly known for her sweetness and kindness to other people. She's had confessions, few, but she's only ever liked one guy since freshman year: Adrien Agreste.
Adrien, who happens to be dating Chloe. Chloe Bourgeois, Queen Bee and childhood rival of Marinette. The blonde always gets on her nerves purposely. It's like she goes out of her way to annoy her at least once in a day.
"Here," Chloe all but shoves an umbrella to her, eying her distastefully, "Wouldn't want you looking like a rabid dog."
Despite her confusion, she keeps the yellow and black umbrella.
Marinette isn't a homewrecker. Despite her massive crush, she still respects Adrien and Chloe's relationship. So what if she coincidentally is there so spectate almost every public display affection of them, she's not jealous. Especially not of Chloe. Spoiled, brat, pretty, funny- wait, ew.
Chloe and Adrien are fencers along with Kagami who in reality, Chloe has a crush on. She begged Adrien to 'pretend' to date her for a couple of weeks to see if it irks something from the stoic blue haired girl.
"Congratulations to you both. I wish you a prosperous relationship." Was all she said, her eyes lingering on Adrien. Fuck.
Adrien hands her her favorite ice cream, a comforting hand placed on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Chloe..."
She sniffs, but doesn't cry. Huh, maybe she's quick to move on than she expected. "It's fine."
News of Adrien and Chloe splitting starts but neither deny or confirm.
Alya's the head/president of the publishing team/school newspaper and she tags Marinette along to help her with Adrien now that Chloe is apparently out of the picture.
Chloe is, unfairly, attractive after a match. She's not even close to panting and her hair is just slightly messed and her posture straight and poised and oh Marinette is staring. At the wrong blonde. Fuck.
Prom is close and coming.
"Are you going to ask Adrien?" "What? No! Chloe would kill me!" "Girl, they're broken up haven't you heard?" "Uh, huh. Sure."
She doesn't believe it though. Chloe hasn't been ranting or bursting about their break up or cause unnecessary annoyance to everyone on how life is treating her poorly.
Chloe commissions a dress and a suit.
"One's for Daddy's upcoming gala." She had said. She didn't know why she needed to explain. She didn't think Marinette deserved to know. Marinette just looked at her, surprised but not judging, and nodded.
After numerous coffees, shopping trips and awkward positions (being locked inside the lab room and needing to cuddle to keep warm coughs a classic) they were able to get their dresses done.
After Chloe occupied most of her time, Marinette realized too late she hadn't tried asking Adrien.
She didn't panic. Huh. Just a sense of slight regret.
It's only after she took a look at Chloe's dress and suit (she had wanted a similar theme for some reason) she realized Chloe's clothes matched her own prom dress.
She told Chloe, expecting the worst. What she didn't expect was her widening her eyes, blushing, and stuttering an inaudible response before fleeing.
Chloe starts avoiding her, only attempting conversation when she asks about the dress and suit.
Marinette misses her. Her presence has...been a huge part of her daily life now and she's suddenly gone and she's confused and annoyed and sad and-
Fuck. "Alya, I think I might like Chloe." "I think you got the wrong blonde, babe." A sigh. "I wished."
She tried to ask Adrien anyways, maybe she was just confused and because she hasn't seen him much?
He says yes. Oh.
Prom comes. Marinette is debating what to wear. Adrien texted he'll be there soon and she waits
Her parents gave her a confusing look but later gave them smiles and took pictures.
They arrive at prom.
Chloe was wearing a suit. A suit! Fuck, her suit. Double fuck, she looked amazing.
"Hey, you guys match!" A confused Adrien, an amused Alya, an equally confused Nino, and a blushing Chloe.
"You look nice." "You're not too bad yourself, Dupain-Cheng."
They dance into the night.
They don't talk about it for a few days but they're less awkward now. Hanging out again albeit not the same as usual.
Then, "Chloé...I have heard from Adrien you had developed feelings for me prior to Prom?"
Jealousy ensues.
"I get it, I'm not her. Just- just go away, Chloé..." "So what if you're not her? I don't care!" "Then maybe you should!"
"I don't like Kagami anymore. It's not her, I like someday else." "Then go to her instead!" "I'm already with her. I'm already with you."
They end up together and share a room in uni. AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES.
Finished the last parts just now. This can also fit reverse! chloenette.
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kit-williams · 2 months
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Sleeping Fields
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Nostraman is said to be poetic sounding right? I've been binging this Dzivia's stuff recently and heard this one today... and Anrir wormed his way into my mind... I think this is Belarusian but just SLAVS throws hands into the air
This should be a short fic
Tag list: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams
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Amir sobbed as you did your best to calm him down but it just was one of those nights that he wouldn't sleep... out of everyone else in the nursery he was the only one awake. You bounced him over your shoulder as you rubbed his back... gave him the oral paste... fed him... everything. He would frown and fuss if you tried singing to him and you were getting tired. You watched Amir suddenly stop as his eyes focused on something in the dark. You swallowed as you looked over your shoulder at Anrir slowly slinking out of the dark.
Fussy hands reached out for the paternal figure as this was a problem with many of the children... they were very comfortable around their paternal figure causing many of the caretakers here to fear giving Anrir their charge worried if it will look badly upon them but out of the roughly ten or so children here being taken care of... you knew that sometimes they just wanted their... father if you could call him that.
"Now why are you up Amir?" He cooed flipping some of his hair over his shoulder to keep Amir from grabbing it and pulling... some of your strands of hair in between his tiny fingers. The black sclera of Amir blended in with the dark but contrasted by the light grey of his eyes... in time his eye color would develop and most likely turn an almost black like his father.
"He doesn't want to sleep." You said tiredly.
A deep timber fills the air as the low tones of a song rumble out of a chest meant for bellowing orders... snarling like an animal... being barely human while still counting as human... as the poetic tongue of the droning lullaby doesn't match the body it comes out of. You watch Amir let out a big yawn, his tiny body stiffening for a moment just like before he sneezes.
Anrir hums for a bit before continuing his song... it sounds far too pretty for his mouth... sounds like it should come out of a kinder man... a far more romantic creature then what sings it. Your eyes slowly droop as the song sounds so comforting and inviting... but knowing Anrir it's probably about something horrible... but it's so... relaxing.
He feels Amir's heart relax as he sings him the Nostroman lullaby. He looks over to you seeing how his lullaby also worked on you... How Amir buried his face into his chest as he walked over to you and easily picked you up in his other arm feeling your face nuzzle into his neck as he continued to sing. He could wake you up... but he enjoyed the feeling of your breath against his skin as he assigned another caretaker to watch Amir for the rest of the night as he took you out of the nursery for the night.
The ending of the lullaby breathing in your ear softly... gently... as you weren't on this cold ship... you were back home in a field as insects chirped at night... знішчыць.... знішчыць.... знішчыць.... знішчыць.... знішчыць... he whispered to her as the door to his room closed behind them.
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floatsthruspace · 4 months
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I found this in my drafts after posting the other one!
Hi! This is the exact moment where I was convinced. I was convinced that this needed to happen. Obi was my favorite character after Shirayuki. This was the moment I put two and two together. And ever since, I've wanted a very specific plot line to play out. Obviously, I try to read through every fic on AO3 and here. There are so many brilliant authors and artists and other creatives that make this fandom a joy to return to. They all live rent free in my head.
Ive tried and failed to put down my thoughts in words. I am not a writer. But here is a snippet of a song fic (?) I had in my head for the longest time. It won't leave me alone. If there is something similar out there please please tell me where ;-;
Can't keep my hands to myself- Selena Gomez
Can't keep my hands to myself
Shirayuki had a problem. At first, she didn't think nothing of it. They are best friends and they spend so much time together. They work so well together and they can communicate without a word. Of course some of that communication would be through touch. A brush of a hand here, a touch to his strong shoulder there, and her hand wrapped around a wrist. She never noticed it was different from when she worked with Ryuu or with Suzu or even Mitsuhide. Until she did.
They had been working for two weeks to pull this garden together. She wiped her brow as she walked over to where Obi worked. She admired his form as he moved wood poles to where they need to be and then returned back to his task with the plants. She placed her hand on his shoulder as she leaned over him to peer at his work in harvesting the herb in his section. His muscles tensed as she let her palm run down his arm.
No matter how much I'm trying to
Her palm tingled as he pulled her through the market place in search of the stall that Suzu raved about last night. She couldn't help that her mind went straight to how strong his hands were and how rough his callouses felt on her skin. She tried not to think about how he gently tugs her along to speed her past groups of people. She tried not to think about how his hands would feel on her skin and how her hands would feel on his skin... Shirayuki barely misses crashing into a patron at the tea stall. She takes a steadying breath and focuses on her path following Obi.
I want you all to myself
As Shirayuki stood up and wiped her brow she wondered if Obi regretted suggesting they stop to rest in this town. She couldn't help it, she saw a garden in disrepair and knew it would help the town to have a community space. It just needed a little love. She looked over at Obi and saw him bent over a pile of wood looking for strong pieces for the outer fence. She admired his lean frame as he stood up with his prize. That's when she noticed his fan club had gathered nearby. She frowned and grumbled at the group of girls waiting to give him water or a rag to wipe his sweat. One of the more daring ones was gushing about how strong he was to be able to pick up those heavy planks of wood. Shirayuki didn't miss how she hung off his arm. Obi for his part was eating it up. She had enough when the girl giggled at him and ran her hand up his arm. She marched over to them and put her hands on his shoulder to focus him back to the task at hand. She asked him to help her with the wheel barrow. She grinned as he followed her without hesitation. She glanced over her shoulder at the pouting fan club. For good measure, she made to fuss over him about taking care of his hands and watching out for his shoulder. She rubbed his hands while glancing at his eyes just so. When she saw his blush she felt warm all over. They continued to work together using the wheelbarrow to spread the soil in the garden. She helped him use his planks to patch the fence. They worked into the early evening and neither of them noticing that they were alone. Glances and hands brushing past each other were the only things on their mind.
Thants all I got! Thank you for reading!
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kimbap-r0ll · 1 year
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Congrats on 1600 followers! Can I request a 💖 with Jamil, Leona, and Trey? Reader can be fem. Thank you and congrats again!!
Hi, thank you for the ask!
Follower event: Jamil, Leona, Trey x fem!reader with 💖 "I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along"
Jamil
He happened to feel as though every day was a repeat of the last. He would wake up, help Kalim with everything throughout the entire day, take care of newer Scarabia students, study for his own classes, attend basketball club meetings, and then repeat. It was hard to feel as though he was losing it, especially when he started to plot against Kalim to take the dorm leader position
This all changed, or at least he felt something change, when you showed up. A magic-less, tad bit clumsy, but fierce dorm leader. You were from a different word apparently, but that didn't scare you from tackling overblot on overblot. You even ended up saving him as well
From there, he felt extremely grateful, not just because you helped him get past the overpowering magic but also because you looked at him for who he was. You treated him with kindness, something servants of famous families didn't receive often.
He slowly found himself falling in love with you. Feeling as though his heart was bursting, he wanted to tell the whole world how much he wanted to be with you. But whenever you went up to him and struck up a conversation, he shut his mouth and awkwardly tried to respond.
You changed his life, though you didn't know it. He felt alive again, and he had to find the courage in himself to tell you how much you meant to him. Until then, he finds himself staring off into the distance while he sits at his desk, daydreaming about you
Leona
Being overshadowed for his entire life, Leona didn't expect great things from himself. At first he was hopeful, he had dreams and goals that he hoped he could achieve through merit. However, that dream faded as time flowed. His overblot situation didn't help very much either
Leona noticed you at the hospital when you went to go check up on him. Sure, at first he only knew you as the herbivore who could conjure a simple spell, but he soon found himself intrigued by you. No matter what situation you were in, you bravely faced it. If anything, it reminded him of what he once wanted to be like
He doesn't talk to you right away, he's emotionally constipated to do that. You might find him looking at you from afar, but most of the time he'll look disinterested. Ruggie instead is tasked to follow you around
Leona thought his life wouldn't change for the better. He would remain as the second-born prince and the dorm leader that tried to sabotage a fae crown prince. However, you made him feel different, you cared for him. You listened to what he had to say, and you never shrank away from him even when he tried to scare you off. If anything, it felt like you genuinely cared for his existence, it was new
Leona doesn't know he has a crush on you, if anything he asks Ruggie if he's sick. Ruggie will laugh and say that the prince is probably lovesick. Will Leona ever get the chance to confess to you? Who knows, maybe surprise him with your feelings if you happen to feel the same way
Trey
You two barely knew each other. You were a new magic-less student who was placed into the worst-quality dorm. Yet, you weren't scared of Riddle, of Malleus, of anyone. You were brave but you also had a big heart, things that Trey admires
His life before you came into it was pretty mundane, and it seemed like whatever he tried to do to help Riddle fight his past was pointless. You didn't just change Riddle's life but his as well by giving him the courage to confront his childhood friend. You also happened to be someone who saw him as someone more than a vice-dorm leader who was always siding with Riddle
A small detail he loved about you was that you appreciated all of the hard work he did as well. It was small, sure, just a few papers Riddle asked him to fill in and baking. But you were always happy to join him when making pastries and sharing stories about your life from a different world. He soon found himself falling in love with you.
Cater will be the first one to point out that Trey has been acting differently. He was always pretty laid back, but this time Trey was a little more nervous whenever you were around. He tried to act cool, but Cater could see the way a slight tint of red rose on Trey's cheeks and how Trey would stutter a bit whenever you talked to him. Cater will confront the vice-dorm leader about this revelation right after you leave that day, to which Trey shouts "No I am not having a crush!"
Of course Trey is, he just doesn't realize it. You changed his life, even though you might think it was a small impact you still did something. He wants to spend more time with you, and he might find the courage to ask you one day
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Bryson Tiller Said (141 Crackfic)
Inspired by some dumbass shit I saw on Instagram and have been laughing at since. Could make more songfics if y’all want, I got ideas, but this one funny thing struck me the most. Enjoy the hilarity! (Seriously I looked up Texan radio stations for rap, different cars and British driving, I spent time researching this, please tell me how you feel about it)
Warnings: Swearing cause it’s military obvs, canon divergence, shenanigans, touching without knowledge (non-malicious), kind of suggestive but for comedy, short clothing is a warning? Bad/Incorrect military term use and imagery, but idgaf 
Bryson Tiller Said: 141 x GN! Reader (Crackfic)
Song: Don’t -Bryson Tiller 
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No one knew whether or not it could be considered ‘down time’ in any way since you all were technically in hiding and appearing as civilian as possible to meet up with other agents and military personnel like yourselves, but it was enjoyable for the most part enough that the edge of the ongoing mission wasn’t as hard to deal with. 
Communications had been cut off except for radio and very, very, secure messaging through military technology. You guys had to make it to the safehouse and gather with other operatives who were trying to deal with a threat- this time, from the inside. Price was already there, having been helping Laswell from the air with Nikolai when it all went downhill, and he’d ordered you all frantically to get to ‘Rockseller’s Point’, a fake place he’d made up, but it was a code word you all knew: the mission and team were compromised, meaning you all had to get to the nearest safehouse. 
Thankfully, Price was thorough in his briefing before missions, and let you all know the codeword for your safehouses and their locations, establishing a system of communication that made it possible for your little group to survive should any higher up or other group decide they wanted to try a hand at eliminating you. 
So, that’s how you all were here: travelling for three out of your eleven day long trip towards the safehouse. You all took turns driving (though Soap was permanently banned from sitting in the front ever since he nearly lost control behind the wheel because he got tipsy before his driving shift), and now Gaz pulled the Ford F-350 into a stop near a local gas station in the middle of fucking nowhere in Texas, trying to find the safehouse closest to the Mexican border as you got closer to meeting with Los Vaqueros for another mission in both Mexico and the States. 
All of the Brits had troubles with the road. You had to drive the first day for almost 4 full shifts of 6 hours of driving, as the roads were on the opposite side, and the driver’s seat was also on the different side in America, meaning that they had to adapt and it would only be possible to do so after someone else drove for a while in order to get them able to drive in this new situation. After almost 50 hours of driving over two days, the Brits finally got used to the traffic enough that they were comfortable driving, and now, into the third day, Gaz and Ghost had driven a few hours. 
Now, you were where you belonged, in your Passenger Princess seat, lovingly dubbed to you by popular culture which was technically your rightfully deserved throne at this point from carrying the entire 141′s asses to safety on the road and risking numb legs from driving. You had been reading a book as your phone charged, since everyone had to have at least one working phone just in case and you all took turns carefully charging one another’s phones to keep at least one personal device alive. You’d stopped for gas, and there was a convenience store as well that likely had overpriced sustenance, but you all would be able to make do with the 3K cash you guys kept on hand for missions just like this, located in a safe pocket known only to you and to be only used in emergencies. If had kept you guys watered and fed and still able to cover the needs for gas and any repairs you may need, thanks to you all (though mostly Ghost) keeping Soap from splurging on the drinks. Your gear in the back of the locked tailgate of the pickup truck you drove, and your friends with you meant you practically had everything you needed. Ghost was an especial help through all this due to his survival missions in previous years, and he was a godsend of help, since the other two were clowns, in every affectionate and damnable context of the word. With every stop, you all used the bathrooms (though the boys were unfortunately blessed with no social stigma or fear of their urinary systems when the bathrooms were bad enough that pig stys were cleaner) and gotten some food to keep your energy along with the MRE’s, even if the new food tasted blander than Texas sand, as Soap and you complained. 
Days ago, the heat had gotten to you enough that you’d opted to wear civilian clothing, consisting of shorts and a shirt, and due to the heat you all kept having to drink water which made it worse, but at least you were trained for hostile temperatures and knew how to survive this, even with all the complaints you’d made that’d send God himself into another fit of flooding rage. You sat in the passenger seat, reading your book as Gaz, Ghost and Soap made their rounds at the gas station to gather necessities and switch driving shifts. You were shielded from the intensity of the mid-morning sun by the tinted windows, kept cool by the ac on blast as the car was stagnant as the boys conversed and argued about food to buy and driving regulations. You brought out a bag of chips that a vendor yesterday had given to you after he’d pitifully flirted with you and earned the ire of Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, and threw in free food in apology for ‘messing with the military’, which was somewhat of a cultural taboo in America, especially in a place like Texas. You began to munch on the chips, enjoying the flavour coating your tongue as you distractedly repositioned the bag between your thighs while reading, the book getting interesting as the archaeologist was about to come face to face with the harrowing truth of what they’d discovered. You didn’t even hear Ghost open the door on your left, nor did you feel the truck shift as he settled his weight into the driver’s seat, but you did comically jump when he shut the door with a slam! that knocked you out of your vicarious fantasy for a moment. 
Ghosts’ eyes were full of puzzlement for a moment before his eyelids narrowed in a tell-tale sign of mild amusement, clearly finding your jumpiness funny. A dusting of red flushed across your cheeks as he teased: “Lost yourself in that book enough to let someone waltz into the truck and drive off into the horizon, hm?” making light of the trope of romance books usually being read on long trips though yours was not a romance book currently. 
You turned away, smiling slightly in embarrassment as you retorted, “Well I didn’t see you waltz in, and if anyone’s driving it’ll have to be me since you guys don’t know how to drive on these roads”. 
Ghost huffed, muttering a muffled ‘touché’ under his breath as he started the car up. “Buckle in, we’re leaving!” he called out to Gaz and Soap, his accented voice barking orders bringing them back to the present as you too scrambled to put on the seatbelt. Within just a few moments, you were on the road again with a full tank of gas and the wind on your skin. 
You ate sparingly, wanting to save the chips to make them last. You looked up at the road and noticed there was a sign on the highway for Dallas, meaning you guys were getting closer to the destination point calculated for a productive journey to the safehouse. Knowing that you were ahead of schedule and headed into the inner cities, your worries for preserving your chips were slightly alleviated. You were closing into the climax of the book, and since you had more than you’d expected left, you decided to offer some to the others since they were likely bored and wanting a snack. 
You reached towards the centre console to the cool water bottles stored in there, and took a swig, washing down most of the chips. You leaned your head on your shoulder and angled it to call out to Soap and Gaz behind you: “Hey, I’ve got chips, you guys can have some if you want, okay?” 
Soap’s enthusiastic ‘yes!’ resounded through the car as he reached towards you, his hand out asking for some nourishment. You reach into the bag and place a few chips in his hand, to which his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “These aren’t chips, they’re crisps,” he says in a hushed voice. 
You roll your eyes, remembering that the Brits of course had a different word for things. “Yeah, we just call them chips in Turtle Island AKA North America, just eat it Soap” you told him, knowing he’d go on a tangent if you let him feel like he had to defend his vernacular for some reason. Soap playfully huffed, and you both went back to doing your own thing. You barely opened the book when you heard Gaz ask for some ‘crisps’ too, and you handed some over, sticking your tongue out at Soap when he groaned at his unsuccessful attempt to grab Gaz’s chips for himself, and let them know they could help themselves to the chips, or crisps as Soap was insistent on, from the bag in your lap. 
You turned back to look at your book again when your eyes flickered to Ghost, the masked Lieutenant sitting proud and tall with steel posture to drive and fight the instinct to drive in the opposite lane. He was doing his best, driving on the empty scenic roads of Texas on the way to Dallas, and he must have skipped out on something in order to conserve resources, because the Lieutenant, as you’d come to know, was not as spectrally malevolent as the name sounds, as his concern for others lingers in his actions, and you wanted to make sure he was included in snack breaks. 
“Ghost, if you’d like, feel free to grab some chips whenever, okay?” you offer, your voice in a hushed whisper to speak privately to him with respect. 
He nods minutely, and it lets you know not only that he heard you but also that he acknowledged what you said. He kept driving. You turned back to your book. 
A few minutes later, a skeletal gloved hand reached out towards the chips, and you shifted the mouth of the bag towards him so he could eat. 
Ghost grabbed a few chips and you could see his hand move to the bag from your periphery before you turned back to the book, smiling to yourself that Ghost was actually eating something before your attention was fully tuned in to the book you were reading. 
The road was smooth, gravel and asphalt combined with the tires of the pickup being the best kind of white noise for reading while in Passenger Princess Mode. Every so often the bag of chips would rustle to alert you someone was eating, and even Ghost’s hand didn’t faze you as he grabbed more chips, apparently enjoying the flavour. He fed himself the chips before trying to fiddle around with the radio, wondering if there was any traffic updates on the local radios, with soft static cutting in and out, adding to the languid atmosphere. 
You were so engrossed in your novel that you didn’t see the envious look in Soap’s eyes as he looked at the chips, and you didn’t feel the bag being kidnapped from the security of your lap as Soap took the chips for himself and Gaz, the two soldiers crunching on the seasoned and fried potato slices to their heart’s content. 
You did, however, feel when something brushed along your skin, eager fingers searching for purchase only to find a grip on the flesh of your thigh just before the hem of your shorts, insistent fingers grabbing onto the skin before it realized what it was touching. 
You froze. So did the mystery hand. 
Your eyes traced the gloved hand resting between your thighs, just as confused and embarrassed as you are. You tilted your head up back to Ghost. 
The man was frozen in his seat, wide eyes flickering between his hand on your thigh, you and the road, the car barely moving. You could feel his hand tremble as he refused to meet your eyes. 
The poor man was utterly mortified. 
Silence reigned in the car, louder than any explosion you could recall as even Soap and Gaz sat stock still, wondering why the fuck Ghost’s hand was on your thigh. 
No one dared to move. No one dared to breathe. 
The radio crackled to life finally, getting just enough of a frequency to announce no traffic but instead burst into song- 
“-Skrr, get in the ride, 
Left hand is steering, the other is gripping your thigh-”
-Which inevitably caused you to snicker, and decide that it was time to be the best damn comedian you could be. 
You put on the most pretentious look of surprise as you blatantly looked between Ghost’s hand and his eyes that looked everywhere but at you, and after a split second exaggerated gasp, you put your hand to your heart, clutching imaginary pearls. 
“We’re not even on a first name basis, Lieutenant! I see we’re getting tactically touchy?” you said, rolling the last syllable as you batted your lashes in a way that would make satirical comedians wheeze. You even threw in a wink. 
Ghost only blinked, confused. 
Then you slapped your hand atop his own, bit your lip in the most obnoxious way, and leaned in as though you were going to kiss him. 
The most feared Lieutenant Ghost reeled back at terminal velocity away from your pretend kiss and shrieked. 
The car swerved, and Ghost cursed, his voice back to its normal low pitch as all passengers held onto their door handles as Ghost maneuvered the car back into the lane, remembering after a second that he should be driving in the right lane instead. 
Soap and Gaz were getting squished by the displaced items from Ghost’s mistaken momentum but it did nothing to quell their laughter, as Soap fell onto Gaz’s lap as he wheezed from laughing so hard. Gaz was failing to hold himself upright as he slapped Soap’s back, laughing so hard his dimples showed and his stomach hurt. 
You? You could barely make out Ghost’s silhouette when your eyes glassed over with tears, your entire body shaking with your hyena-like laughter as you could barely squeak at times, laughing so hard you nearly deprived yourself of oxygen. 
Ghost’s shouts of ‘shut up you fucking idiots’ in between embarrassed mutterings and yelled threats did nothing to quell the laughter in the car, in fact it seemed to escalate it further, your laughter getting harder and Ghost’s shoulders hunching closer in embarrassment as he swore under his breath, his cheeks flushed a deep red with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel under his gloved hands. Gaz and Soap kept laughing, the chips long forgotten as they kept laughing about the entire situation, with Soap and Gaz losing air as their faces flushed from mirth. The men began to tire from their oxygen depravation from laughing so hard, and the laughter quieted down to whispered jokes and shushed chuckles. 
Hours later, your book was finally finished, the ending being so heartbreaking yet cathartic at the same time that you closed the book and put it away, ready to start reading a different one later. You breathed a sigh as you leaned back in your seat, propping your one arm outside the window as wind from the sunroof flowed in to cool you down. Gaz and Soap had been so tuckered out that they fell asleep in the warmth of the sun and the steady pace of the car. You turned your body and leaned over the console compartment to grab the bag of chips back, a bit dismayed to find it nearing emptiness. 
You mentally shrugged and began to eat some more of them. You turned to see Ghost, the Lieutenant’s posture relaxed if not for the tenseness of his shoulders, clearly from being made fun of. The Lieutenant had been with the 141 since its inception and was probably used to them, so he likely didn’t give a shit about the antics the boys pulled about making fun of him. So why was he tense? It occurred to you that maybe...he was embarrassed about the fact he touched you without permission. 
You and the Lieutenant respected one another enough that you were well-acquainted with his mannerisms, his social cues, and his likes and dislikes enough that both on and off the field you could work together in relative ease. But his reaction to this situation now had you worried. Had any of you crossed an unspoken boundary? 
Your heart started to pound harder in your chest as you worried about whether or not something bad had occurred, and if you were at fault. Ghost was not just a man who built himself up to war but also knew how to hold a grudge, and no one ever, in their right mind, wanted to be on the receiving end. Especially if they considered him a friend. 
Gathering your courage, you regarded him for a moment then cleared your throat before you could chicken out. “Lieutenant?” you peeped up, your voice smaller than you’d intended. 
Ghost briefly turned to look at you, his focus diverting from the completely empty road to you after one odd car passed by. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice in a more curious and benign tone than you expected it to be. 
You looked down for a moment and took in a breath, causing Ghost’s eyes to flicker on you once more in a look that could be classified as nervous. 
“I’m...uh, I’m sorry, sir, if we’d gone too far. Are you okay?” you asked, concern etched on your face. 
Ghost grunted, nodding before turning back to the window. Silence reigned between you, causing your stomach to sink further. You pressed your lips together, eyes shifting before you heard him sigh after a beat. 
“I touched you without permission; I should have apologized earlier. ‘M sorry if it made you uncomfortable”, he says, and the tinge in his voice tells you enough. 
He’s not upset at you. He’s concerned if he made you uncomfortable. 
The Lieutenant is not just feared, but also respected. Because he gives that respect to others too. 
You smile, shaking your head softly. “I’m okay, sir. It was no big deal. I know it wasn’t intentional”, you said, feeling better now that the air was cleared. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Lt”. 
You can see the tension leave him, his shoulders no longer as tense, now that there was no reason for there to be any awkward tension. 
You smiled, more to yourself than to him, before settling down to sit more comfortably in the seat. Picking up your phone, you checked the percentage of power before finally unplugging it, checking through different apps to see if there was a message. 
“If it’s of any consolation, I’m okay with touch. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me,” comes out of your mouth absentmindedly. 
Ghost doesn’t answer. 
Instead, the lieutenant’s fingers toy with the controls of the radio, finally giving up and scrolling it back to the Texas radio station ‘The Trap’, and letting it play music softly so as not to disturb the sleeping soldiers behind him. 
You leaned on the centre console storage, arm laying on the armrest. 
Ghost’s right hand drops from the wheel, his forearm meeting your elbow. Heat radiates from him, emanating through the fabric of his sleeves. 
His wrist hangs over the console. Two gloved fingertips overlap your bare ones, warmth seeping into your skin as Future’s Turn on the Lights plays. 
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xiema · 6 months
Text
Scandal
Thrawn/Eli Vanto, Thanto
Summary: One night changed everything between them.
Text:
It wasn't easy as a non-human in the Imperial Fleet. The prejudices of the human crew were constantly noticeable, no matter how influential, what rank you held nothing changed. The only thing that changed was how well they hid it, or at least tried to. What they didn't know was that the senses of a Chiss were far better than those of a human. Thrawn saw their glances, heard the whispers, and yet he remained silent, convinced that if he did anything, in time the entire crew would turn on him, even more than they already did.
So he would be the perfect soldier, just as he had learned in the Ascendancy. His path led only straight. The best grades at the Academy. The Optimal result of a mission. He would not compromise.
He practically did not have a private life, and when an opportunity arose, it was rather simple. Most of the time he surrounded himself with his beloved art, studied the various cultures and customs of different worlds, while others got drunk textbook-style until they couldn't even form a straight sentence. Not that he had much reason to go to such parties, after all, most people disapproved of his presence and frowned when they saw him coming from far away. That was already the case on his home. But there was someone who was different.
"Good morning Thrawn."
A young man who had proven to Thrawn more than once that racism and prejudice could be crushed. Someone who, despite all the trouble the Chiss had caused him in the past, stood by Thrawn not only as a subordinate, but also as his closest friend.
"Good morning Eli." Greeted Thrawn back, immediately noticing how much his mood improved at the sight of his friend.
"Have you heard yet Pryce broke her foot. Looks like the party's going down the drain."
Pryce's birthday, Thrawn remembered. It happened to coincide with her day off. She had been looking forward to it, however a malfunctioning droid had thrown a wrench at her plans. "Obviously."
"Faro and I were going to surprise her with a couple of bottles of Jogan fruit brandy in her quarters. Would you like to join us?" Eli inquired with a sampled smile, and Thrawn couldn't deny how his heart briefly leapt with joy each time he did so. And yet he kept silent, not letting on, even if he wished it was more than mere friendship.
Thrawn was already formulating his usual excuse in his head, but before he even had time to say a word he was cut off. "Come on Thrawn. You're always at work, some time off would be nice. Or don't Chiss do time off?" A remark that both knew was not meant seriously. And for the first time, Thrawn did something he thought would never happen.
"I'll see what I can do." He agreed.
The commander's brown eyes widened in amazement, "Really? Good, then at the end of the shift in front of Pryce quarters. There's no need for a gift. Now, however, we should get back to our work."
"Indeed." Thrawn could not have put it better. Both men turned their attention back to the bridge. Perhaps this evening would prove to be a valuable experience.
------------oOo---------------
As agreed, Thrawn, Eli and Karyn met outside Arihnda's quarters at 9 p.m. standard time. Karyn's eyes widened when she saw the Chiss coming in a shirt and suit pants instead of his usual uniform, however, she said nothing about his presence and even seemed interested for a moment. After all, no one had ever seen the Grand Admiral drunk. Not that Thrawn intended to drink so much, but he would not take away her pleasure.
The small group was not exactly greeted friendly when they entered the quarters. Due to the komplexety of the fracture, the medic had foregone bacta and cast Arihnda's leg in the traditional manner instead, and she didn't seem too thrilled about it. She was barely able to move on her own, let alone walk, and from experience Thrawn knew how much she hated sitting around doing nothing. "What are you doing here?" nagged Arihnda, annoyed.
"Congratulating you, old witch." Karyn answered and demonstratively lifted up the bottles they had brought with them.
However, that didn't seem to be enough, with a rest of skepticism Arihnda raised an eyebrow "And why is he here?" they all knew who was meant.
"We can leave again if you prefer." the rising warmth in Eli's face told Thrawn that he wasn't thrilled about her snide tone, however his mine hadn't changed. Sometimes the Chiss forgot how much better Eli had become at using his own body language. In the past, you could read his every emotion, but today Thrawn had to admit that he would have trouble without his infrared vision.
Disparagingly, Arihnda watched them and probably weighed her options, either she would spend the evening alone in her quarters feeling sorry for herself, or she would party with them. In the end, she gave in. Thrawn saw the heat spreading to their cheeks "Give me the damn bottle, Vanto."
After just the first round of the high grade brandy, the mood improved tremendously. Mainly they played cards, told of stories from their time at the Academy, Arihnda about her childhood and youth on Lothal, and generally some bad jokes where Thrawn often didn't understand the potentate. Assuming there was one at all, he would probably never really understand human humor. Most of the time Thrawn just watched the three of them talking to each other, but their body language was also very interesting. The hours flew by, the alcohol flowed in rough quantities, a glass originally accepted only out of politeness turned into two, four, six and soon Thawn had lost track and caught himself smirking at a bad joke or deducing one in his mind.
At some point silence fell, Arihndas and Karyn lay half-dozing, cuddled together on the bed, their heads red from the alcohol, while Eli and Thrawn sat together at the foot of the bed, finishing their last glass. Without realizing it, his gaze slid to Eli, who was lostly watching the dark liquid in the glass, and the Chiss wondered what was going on in his head. Normally Thrawn was a friend of silence, but in this case it was strangely oppressive.
"Thank you for the -" he faltered, the alcohol had already clouded his mind so much that some of the expressions on Basic just slipped away.
"For the invitation?" helped Eli out with a slight grin.
"Exactly. For the invitation." he repeated, "Thank you."
"I thought you'd like to get rat-arsed, too."
"Rat-arsed?"
Eli smiled at his friend's confusion. It was a carefree laugh, one like Thrawn hadn't heard from the younger man in a long time. "Don't worry about it." Eli took a final sip.
As so often lately, Thrawn's eyes clung to Eli's profile; every day they saw each other, worked together for hours, and often spent their free time together, but he felt as if he was really seeing him for the first time. He bit his lip. For the first time in his life his head was completely empty. And for the second time that day, Thrawn did something unexpected when, in a moment of controllose, his lips met Eli's. It was only a moment, but for him, it was like seeing him for the first time. It was only a moment, but for Thrawn it felt like an eternity, like a dream that finally came true. But no matter how beautiful this short moment was, what followed made him freeze like a jump into ice water.
Wordless and pale as a corpse, Eli stared at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. All at once, the Chiss was completely sober again. What was he actually doing here?
"I should go."
Eli replied nothing, just continued to turn away in silence, refusing to look at Thrawn. It hurt more than anything. He could still hear Karyn and Arihnda slowly waking up again, asking what was going on, but getting no answer. At least not from Thrawn whose heart, which many thought he didn't have, burst into a thousand pieces as the door closed behind him.
--------------oOo--------------
The next day came far too quickly, with Thrawn waking up with a strange feeling of lightheadedness, not because of the alcohol that still hadn't quite left his system, but because of last night's memories. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't avoid Eli, he was his adjudant after all. But that wouldn't stop him from doing his duty.  
But maybe Thrawn took a little more time than usual to put on his uniform and maybe he trembled a little at the thought of meeting Eli in a few minutes.
The Chiss had never been so unfocused in his life, counting the seconds until Eli appeared on the bridge. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he feared the entire crew would hear it, even though he knew this was impossible. Until it suddenly stopped when he heard the unmistakable rhythm of Eli's footsteps approaching. All his hopes were pinned on this moment. Maybe Eli didn't remember what had happened, or thought it was a dream. Maybe he thought that the alcohol had gone to the Chiss' head and that there was no meaning behind his actions. Or maybe he simply ignored what had happened.
And maybe, just maybe, he would feel the same way as Thrawn.
"Grand Admiral." a single word, his hopes dashed. Another would not have known the difference, but Thrawn did. In the usual polite tone resonated an unpleasant coldness that sent a shiver through Thrawn, who had grown up on an ice planet. He had played high and lost, namely his best friend and his great love.
He would rewind time, simply forget and deny the truth. It was easier to pretend there was nothing there than to give himself foolish hope any longer. He would respect Eli's wish.
"Commander Vanto."
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temporalbystander · 11 days
Text
Okay it took a while, and devolved from a story you could read while listening to the song, to a story inspired by the song. But I still like it. My earlier post still stands btw, if you can guess the song/animatic that is behind this story you can force me to make a gacha video for Faybon for it. If you wanted to, you don't HAVE to do that.a
He could feel the darkness pounding away at the mask he wore. He could practically hear the flapping of the Akuma wings echoing inside his brain as he struggled to calm his breathing. He'd pulled away from everyone the moment the thoughts started. It was easy, nobody ever noticed when he disappeared, he'd done it too often for them to be concerned anymore. He had found a spot to be alone and collapsed to the ground, burying his face into his knees. He was used to being on his own, he couldn't operate if he didn't have this peace.
Pushing the darkness back he tried to think of his friends, the bubbling Rose as she smiled just to see him participating. He thought of the kids at the orphanage, living and laughing and him being there to help them enjoy it as much as possible.
“Yet who can say they'd be any different if you weren't here? The timeline must stay the same, remember?”
Just like that his throat tightened and he struggled to swallow, he needed a drink, why did he always think like this? Why couldn't he enjoy this happiness? Why did he always come back to what Bunnyx had told him? That an entire life had already been lived by all those people and she had seen it. Nothing had changed, she had made sure of that with all her interference… and once again the anger hit.
Sure future Alix had said she never regretted bringing him back here. That she enjoyed the time with him explaining what other timelines with him had become, that she'd correct things a million more times if it meant he would stay with the rest of their friends. She was doing so much for him when she didn't have to. When he messed everything up because he thought he knew better than the time traveler. That he could fix things if he just had a Miraculous or if he let himself get akumatised or if he confronted Gabriel to get him to look after Adrien better.
Still… he wished he could have kept Talli… he'd have promised to never use her powers if he could have just had someone to talk to. Someone he could vent to, who he could be honest with about everything. Seeing the little kwami, forced into being as yet another one of ShadowMoths ploys to get his wish… had made his heart ache. He could only imagine how that timelines version of him felt as he took her in, named her, cared for her and kept her safe. His first secret… even as Ladybug asked him to keep a lookout should he spot anything he had kept the Miraculous covered.
Bunnyx had shown him all that and more. How Talli had begged him to hand her over to Ladybug once they realised her powers were incomplete. How she couldn't keep him safe while transformed… he'd just smiled. He was finally able to help in a way only he could. He could take over for Ladybug or Chat without Shadow Moth ever noticing, thus keeping their identities safe. He could pretend to be any of the other Miraculous holders even if Ladybug couldn't get away to grab them. Any pain was worth it if he could help them, that's all he’d ever wanted…
Then he pushed it too far. Pushed ShadowMoth too far. Being backed into a corner the purple villain did the only thing he could think of, he created a sentimonster whose sole purpose was to beat Ladybug and Chat Noir. Then he akumatised it to give it all the limitless power it could need. Destroying the object did nothing at that point, its power stretched beyond that now, it crossed into Bunnyx’s realm and every possible timeline it could before she shut it down. All to anchor itself… To win she had to reset time again, go back before ShadowMoth got the idea to create Talli because that's as far back as the akumatised sentibeast had gotten.
But the moment she opened a burrow it was there… so that version of me went to stop it. He pushed Talli well past the limit…. Which meant there was no protection from what the beast did. Again and again he transformed to hold it back until Bunnyx hit reset… and being unable to see what that version had done to himself was the only thing Bunnyx had been grateful for… if even having powers meant he couldn't make a difference without it all going terribly wrong then why did he keep trying? Why did he keep putting himself out there when his own darkness became so hard to hold back? One slip up and he'd become an Akuma impossible to stop… he knew that… Bunnyx had shown him how that had happened many times before.
“You okay there little paradox?” Speaking of time travelers… Faybon sighed and lifted up his head more than ready to see the redhead’s teasing grin beneath her bunny ears. What he hadn't expected was to see the vast whiteness that was the burrow surrounding him. “You seemed like you needed a little space.” She said, smiling more softly than he ever recalled her doing before.
With the fear of an Akuma no longer hovering above his head the mask he was wearing broke. The hateful feelings swarming now that he was in the place outside of time, the place that proved just how little his wants mattered. “Why Alix? Why me? Why do all this for someone who’s not supposed to be here.” His voice cracked as he said it. “It's not like I'm close to present you, so you don't get anything out of it.”
“Fluff. Counterclockwise.” He looked up as the transformation ended, staring at the future form of his classmate as all the windows around them went still. “There is a method to my madness you know.” She said as she took a seat next to him, leaning against the blank wall that didn't really seem to be there. “My powers are a last resort for a reason, I don't normally get do overs if something goes wrong, I'm not like Viperion. Sure I can reverse damage and change the timeline but what I saw? What I experienced? It all gets erased, I'm the only one who remembers it all.”
“And?” Faybon asked slowly, eyes widening in surprise as she handed the pocket watch over to him.
“Take it from me, I know exactly what type of misery you're going through, being unable to change things for the better because there is a timeline I have to stick to.” For the first time Faybon could ever remember Alix looked vulnerable. She looked scared. Sure he’d seen Bunnyx look like that when he was shown the events of Chat Blanc but Alix herself? Was completely new to him. “I've just had several more years to grow numb to it.”
“That can't be healthy…” he said softly, still not taking the Miraculous from her.
“No… it's not. But I have to keep going. I have to keep the timeline on track.” She tried to smile but Faybon had been around enough girls on the verge of crying to see the tears she was holding back. “And every time I need to change things it's because you have to help your friends and I get hit with that same regret that I can't let it happen.” She held out the watch more earnestly this time. “I won't undo what I did with you Faybon, I can't be the only one remembering the type of person you are. I couldn't bear to talk to minibug or kitten Noir and have them suddenly not know your name.” She swallowed and Faybon knew she was feeling the same tightness in her throat as he had. “But if you did it? If you went back right before I dropped you off and placed yourself somewhere else? In some other time? I'd forget too.”
Reaching out he took the watch from her and saw her slump down further, but it wasn't from relief. “You never answered my question Alix. Why do you go through all this for me?” He asked as he stood up.
“Because you reminded me that time is just a bunch of pit stops. That you could keep the end destination the same while still making the journey more bearable.” Alix took a deep breath and looked up at him. “That if we get caught up in what we can't change we stop trying to see what we can, and at that point why even bother living.”
While Faybon understood the sentiment there was something about her smile that seemed… odd. “Who gave you that advice?” He asked, taking a shot in the dark.
She chuckled and gave him a smirk. “You did. The first time I came back to undo a timeline you'd made.” Her smirk widened at his shock. “You were quick to agree once you saw what had happened, the relationships between everyone were all types of messed up. But you just shrugged and said you'd try something else.” She continued before he could voice his thoughts. “I’d done so much to try and make it work, before finally accepting that it couldn't, that hearing you say that kind of made me snap. I was so stressed out that you'd hate me and want nothing to do with me and here you were saying you'd just mess up something else?”
“I take it there's a reason I don't remember this?” Faybon asked as he passed the Miraculous between his hands, thankful that Fluff had stayed quiet so far.
“You waited until I calmed down and then gave me the advice I just gave you. After which you told me to go back earlier so you wouldn't remember the conversation.” Now Faybon was really confused, it was rare when he asked for his memory to be erased. Even rarer for Bunnyx to agree. “You said it was because you didn’t want to remember the timeline I showed you,” she smirked again and stood up while pointing over his shoulder, “it's why I kept you from that window over there.” He didn't bother to look. “But I think we both know that wasn't the actual reason was it?” Alix’s voice softened again and Faybon realised just how big a weight had been placed on her shoulders with the Miraculous.
He didn't hesitate in answering her. “If I had known you felt like that I would never have let myself breakdown like I just did.” He said firmly. “Knowing there's a chance you could see it as you peered through the timelines I would have kept to myself even harder. The last thing I'd want to do is cause you any more pain.” Faybon took one more glance down at the Miraculous before handing it back to her. “I think we both can get a little too lost in our heads. So what do you say we push past our faults and imagined monsters and keep being the bad asses we are?”
Alix chuckled before transforming again. “Oh I agree one of us is awesome. But both?”
Rolling his eyes, Faybon turned to the window he came in from, his fears and worries laid to rest for now. “If I kept you on track all these messed up timelines later I think I must have done something right don't you?” He asked as he waited for her to open it up so he could step through.
Always needing the last word Bunnyx's voice carried through the burrow just before it closed. “Like I said, I agree with you, go cause some more trouble king.”
Faybon stared at the wall where the burrow had been in shock before he started to laugh. He’d thought of Bunnyx as overbearing many times before but he couldn't deny having also felt safe. Having someone who would always be there for you was something special, he just hoped she knew the reverse was also true. Shaking his head he returned to his friends, humming a little tune to himself.
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ditzydisaster13 · 2 months
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hi
Okay. So I’ve had what I believe, is an epic idea. I don’t do song fics too often, but this was looking like an amazing opportunity. I hope you all know this song.
youtube
This is the childhood song of badassery. It was epic and spooky. To the right people, it would send chills down their spine. To me, a person who loves music, music has always been a lot about the story it tells. I took this song very literally for a while. Creeped out by my own imagination
But now it’s your turn to be creeped out. Maybe. This is a VLD idea. An AU. Lance gets separated from the others. A Galra ship exploding and sending him into space. The others were lead to believe he was captured by the Galra. while instead a series of not only Galra rebels, but neutral-good fighters and survivors as well. Then they were further lead to believe he was dead. ((Evidence points to them all spending at least 5 years in space. Keith had extra time cause of his blade mission. So we’re gonna kinda ignore the og timeline. This takes place a little while after the lion switch.)) so when they think Lance is dead. Pidge and Hunk have green and yellow lions like always. Shiro had black, Keith has red, and allura has blue.
But while they get used to Lance not being there, mourning him, all the while hoping he’s maybe out there. Lance is getting older. Stronger. In an area near a star where times moves just a little faster. About 3 years older than the other now, even when he’s been separated from them for only 2 years. They still miss him. And hunk can never forget him. But they’d gotten used to the pattern in their life. Then there’s a distress signal. In a pretty far galaxy. It’s really close to where Lance and his friends are. But Lance is taller, built a little more similar to Shiro, with all of his lankyness still. Just more muscle. Long hair. Cause apparently the food there makes hair grow fast, and everywhere. Lance gave up on taking care of his hair. Everywhere else is pretty well taken care of. He’s kinda skipped on his skin care routine. Shampoo works well enough. And sometimes conditioner stuff makes his hair curly. But he’s constantly dirty and scarred. Brace and rough and ruthless. Guns and sword and knives and other weapons. Better with technology and mechanics now. He’s practically everything he never was in team Voltron. And 10 times more. He is the best version of himself. He doesn’t even miss who he was. He might miss his old friends, but these new people, that aren’t so new anymore. They know him better than he should.
not sure when I’ll get to post this on Ao3: so let me know if you would like a version of the story posted here first.
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Peace | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)
Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.
Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.
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Our coming-of-age has come and gone
Suddenly the summer, it's clear
I never had the courage of my convictions
As long as danger is near
And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me
No, I could never give you peace
Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.
However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.
The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.
District 12.
Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.
He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.
He lost everything. Every hope for the better.
That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.
Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.
He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.
Why did he do it?
Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.
Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.
He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.
Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.
"And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me"
Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.
Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.
Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.
Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.
Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.
"No, I could never give you peace"
But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade ocean wave blues come
All these people think love's for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.
His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.
The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.
No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.
A girl from District 12.
He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.
But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.
Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.
He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.
Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.
Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.
°
Why am I here? What am I doing?
These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.
The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.
Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.
He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.
As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.
It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.
At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?
But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.
More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.
Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.
Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.
"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.
Your integrity makes me seem small
You paint dreamscapes on the wall
I talk shit with my friends
It's like I'm wasting your honor
Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.
He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.
He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.
"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."
Coriolanus ignored him.
He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.
"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."
Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.
"I don't-"
"Don't lie to me, Coryo."
He kept his mouth shut after that.
And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences
Sit with you in the trenches
Give you my wild, give you a child
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other
Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother
Is it enough?
Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.
His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.
He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.
He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.
Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.
"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.
You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.
Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.
You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.
You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.
He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.
He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.
"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.
"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."
This took him a back a little.
"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.
"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."
He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.
But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.
But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west
I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best
But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me
One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.
You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.
You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.
That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.
"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."
When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.
You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.
Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.
"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."
"Of course I will Coryo, but-"
"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.
"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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since-im-already-here · 3 months
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new rules - dua lipa
don’t pick up the phone, you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone
- Shanks, Zoro, Law
don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again
- Buggy, Sanji, Corazon/Rosi
don’t be his friend, you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning
- Luffy, Ace, Sabo
If youre under him your not getting over him
- Crocodile, Mihawk, Doflamingo
~~~~~~~~~
i will not be elaborating further
@fanaticsnail @sordidmusings
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dolcettamagica · 2 months
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬
ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au
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tags: degradation, daddy kink, sexual indications and language notes: minors dni, listen to "you can be the boss" by lana del rey wc: 1.1k
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Once again your Boss, Mr. Sukuna, was staring at you from across the private room at the bar you were drinking. It was almost a tradition that Sukuna invited everyone for a few drinks after an extremely hard day at work. As usual the most beautiful women were seated around him, all of them looking the same – tight pencil skirts and revealing blouses, the only difference being the colors of the said skirts. Yet his eyes were set on you, his secretary.
Feeling pressured, you avert your eyes from him. After all, you weren't blind, your boss was probably one of the most attractive men in the world. Nevertheless, you had resolved never to give yourself to him. Your job was more important than a man whose cock you would love to feel inside you.
There was another point that motivated you to stay away from Sukuna. All the female colleagues hated you. How dare you become his secretary? You. The innocent little mouse who worked in the company for less than three months. Nobody understood why Sukuna chose you out of all the applicants who were eagerly waiting for his acceptance. So engaging in any kind of sexual relationship with your boss would be a death sentence at your workplace.
As your shot glass touched your lips to take another sip, you looked back over at your boss and in that moment your eyes met.
Sukuna was able to get any woman he wanted and he would also be able to get any woman in general. He knew exactly what power he had over women. You, however, were still under his spell, still clinging to some irrelevant moral values. You were a challenge to him and he loved challenges.
Normally, secretaries always sat next to their bosses, but you always occupied the seat furthest away from him and out of sight. This time you were far away, but right at the other end of the table, giving him the perfect view.
Sukuna took in every little detail of your appearance. Your freshly washed hair, tied back in a neat braid. Oh, how he would love to take that hair in his hand and pull it while he thrusts into you from behind. Making you scream and beg for his cock to reach deeper into your clenching little pussy. A loose blouse was buttoned up to the neck, but Sukuna knew exactly what you looked like in tight clothes. After all, your Instagram was public. It would be so easy to stand up and rip off your blouse to take your big tits into his mouth.
"Mr. Sukuna, sir, are you listening?", he heard some woman almost begging for his attention. To be honest, he didn't even know what this chick's name was. Everyone was the same in his eyes, desperate. She pressed her chest against her arm, her tits almost falling out of her top. "You look so good in that suit, is it Armani?" He was wearing his best suit today, since he had something special planned. A bloodred suit with a black shirt underneath, he deliberatly left a few buttons unbuttoned. 
“Ms. y/n”, he called out, "You're staying late today. We have something important to discuss." The entire room fell silent. He sounded so serious. The other women beamed with shameful joy, imagining him screaming at you and firing you. He had completely different things playing out in his imagination though.
Blood rushed to up your cheeks as soon as you heard him call your name, his voice deep and husky. “Y-yes, boss.” You would have loved to run away. If you had known that your boss still wanted to talk to you afterwards, you wouldn't have drunk anything. You were already tipsy, doubting your self-control. Alone with Mr. Sukuna in this private room was both dangerous and seductive.
A few hours have passed and everyone has left, everyone except you and Sukuna. As soon as the room was empty you heard your boss's voice “Crawl over.”
“I’m-I’m sorry, what? I…I think I drank too much.”
“I said crawl over, now.”
Was it because of the alcohol in your system or was it because of Sukuna's deep dominant voice? Your body moved faster than your brain could register the movements and you slowly crawled over to him. Meanwhile Sukuna pushed the table further away from him. He was sitting on the ground, criss-crossed, something that was normal in japanese culture. “What a good little girl, listening to her boss”, he taunted you, his red eyes staring at you.
Ashamed and slightly turned on you knelt in front of him. What kind of situation was that and why the hell did you follow his orders? There was no time to search for an answer because Sukuna had already grabbed you by your throat and pulled you closer to him.
“You need to stop acting all hard to get, little one, it makes me want to ruin you. I know your pussy gets wet for me. Everytime you push your thighs together when I scream at a subordinate or the sudden breaks you need to take after I praise you. You like that, right? Being praised, gets your cunt soaking and seeking for my cock. Desperate slut.”
There was no room to answer once again. As your lips met, a wave of heat surged between you two, igniting a fiery passion that had been smoldering beneath the surface. The air around you seemed to sizzle with anticipation as you surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing you closer.
His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you in with an urgency that mirrored the racing of your hearts. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony, exploring and tasting, each kiss more fervent than the last. The warmth of your breath mingled, creating a heady mix of desire and longing that filled the space between you.
Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, your bodies pressed together in a dance of passion and need. Every touch sent shivers down your spines, igniting a hunger that could only be satiated Sukuna himself.
In that stolen moment, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection you shared. It was a kiss that set your souls ablaze, leaving you both breathless and hungry for more. And as you finally pulled away, your eyes locked in a daze of desire, you knew that this was just the beginning of an unforgettable journey of lust.
“Here, slut”, a cigarette with a number on it was placed next to you on the table, “This is my private number. Call me. If you don’t, daddy will punish you real good, understand?” And with that he stood up, leaving you needy and hungry. Still out of breath your eyes fixated on the cigarette.
Would you text him or stand your ground?
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jointherebellion215 · 2 months
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If It's True
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: When an unexpected guest crashes your House's welcome feast for the Harkonnens, your life unknowingly becomes the start of a sad, sad song.
Word Count: 872
TW: Manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha (so Regular Feyd-Rautha), she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, songfic
A/N: Hi, it's your friendly neighborhood shitposter. I'm taking a huge leap of faith with this fic, because I truly haven't written anything in YEARS. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for days, thus "the trilogy was born". This is meant to be Part One of a three part series, based on different songs from the musical Hadestown. I've obviously written this with very very dark interpretations of the songs and the themes. If enough people like it, I'll post parts two and three. Please let me know if it's any good, I'd love some feedback :)
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories other than what I derive inspiration from are strictly coincidence.
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What’s the use of his backbone
If he never stands upright?
“We welcome you to Kolhar, my lords Baron and na-Baron. Our House humbly offers our services and facilities to your use. I toast to our continued cooperation and to the strength of our Houses.”
As your father raised his cup, others of our House followed suit. The official welcome feast was well underway, though House Harkonnen had been planetside for at least a week already. The past few days had been for inspecting our mines and factories, ensuring that our production of their ships and swords were up to standard. 
Now? Pure pageantry. You found it a bit redundant, but it was necessary to ensure your good standing among the Houses of the Imperium. It was a grand occasion, in which the leaders of your father’s council were present, as well as the highest ranked mine workers. 
The doors to the large hall slam open, a familiar figure storming in. Your heart flutters at the sight of your beloved parting the crowds before him. The man who you had met by complete coincidence, one of the workers in a local steel mine, who you had spent the better part of a year meeting in secret—had crashed the court. You noticed a bruise growing on his cheek and blood trickling down his temple, indicating that his journey to enter through the doors was easier said than done. His voice soon bellowed throughout the hall. 
“My Lord Duke, I refuse to let your daughter’s hand be taken by the na-Baron. She cannot marry him.” 
The crowd gasps, as do you. You had spent the past week showing the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha around the grounds, the training of your most fierce warriors, and the best of your planet’s culture. You had shared a laugh or two and shown your prowess as a leader. Yes, you’d spent quite a bit of time with him, but marriage? This was news to you. 
You turn to your father, who gives you an apologetic grimace. Several Harkonnen guards step forward to seize the love of your life. You quickly stand to protest, but the na-Baron stops the guards in their track with a single snap of his fingers. He offers a hand to calm the crowd, an eerie stillness in his form.
“It is true, I have offered my hand to the Lady.”
I believe that with each other, 
we are stronger than we know.
“There must be a way around this. Even if this is in defiance of the court, they can’t punish all of us! We work their mines; they couldn’t truly function without us. We are the ones who truly hold the power! I implore you to stand with me, show them our strength!”
Your love stands strong, chin raised in the crowd, voice pleading with his brothers and sisters to stand beside him. He was convinced that this moment could provide a great revelation, that somehow your situation was different. That the consensus of a crowd could make the na-Baron stand down. Surely, your story could convince even the coldest of hearts that love can conquer all. He must have some sentimentality that resonates within him.
That's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. He's always so full of hope. Always willing to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it actually is.
But you knew better.
“This is treason.” Someone whispers in the room. Murmurs of assent soon follow, and your heart drops. The crowd around him quickly dissipates, as if the mere act of touching him promises death. 
And the ones who deal the cards
Are the ones who take the tricks
With their hands over their hearts
While we play the game they fix
You start to plead with your father to spare your lover. He doesn’t know any better, he wasn’t raised in the ways of politics or court. It’s purely out of his love and devotion to you, so please—
Feyd-Rautha stands up and the room is immediately devoid of sound. He cranes his neck to look at you.
“You love him?”
You swallow harshly, lifting your chin. “I do.” You went to your lover, making a bold statement in linking your fingers together. Presenting a united front. Hoping that somehow, your kind attitude the past week towards the na-Baron would allow this leniency.
A gleam flashes through his eyes, almost imperceptible. He gives a blackened smile, making show of placing his hand over his heart. Confusion fills you. He slithers down the steps towards the pair of you, boots echoing in the Feasting Hall, each step making your lover’s hand give a slight tremor. Your mind stands strong in its conviction, in the thought that you’ll have to fight for what you want. But a small tendril in the back of your mind gives the slightest hesitation. The smallest indication of hope. Maybe…
Piter leans towards his Baron, whispering concerns in his ears, but is quickly paused by the Baron’s hand. Vladimir gives a slow, menacing grin. He responds to his Mentat in a low voice,
“Don’t bother. You know that my nephew loves to play with his food.”
Is this how the world is?
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k2ntoss · 2 months
Note
i feel like I've been MIA for too long lmao but hooo boyyy i have so many thoughts now because of that prompt list omg 🫠 i NEED -Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.- and “Spread your legs baby, that’s it…Wider.” with Jason immediately please Mara, the brain rot demands it 😭
-🦊
JUST LOOK AT THIS, MY FAVORITE ANON !!! (as if it wasn't clear before) have i told you already how i love the way your mind brings the brain rot to work??? well, i do. let's get at it, babe
fucking someone so good they struggle to kiss you back + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"
movie nights are for two things, actually watching your movie selection while cuddling with your partner or to completely ignore whatever was playing on the screen while your partner fucked the life out of you. you go guess what was jason's plan for tonight's movie plan.
you're actually trying to focus on the movie, your eyes fixed on the screen as you lay on jason's chest and he holds you softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he leans in to leave a soft peck on your skin. it's innocent and sweet at first but then one of his hands slides under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing abstract lines on your stomach that made your attention drift away when he pressed a kiss on your jaw.
"jay... are you even watching the mo–" you were speaking, trying to scold him but your words caught on your throat when his hand moved further up and cupped one of your breasts at the same time he licked your neck.
"i'm not watching the movie, baby" he whispers against your skin, his lips gracing your neck right before he kisses that spot behind your ear "i want to get touchy with my pretty girl."
"oh, so you want to get touchy?" you ask, there's now a hint of amusement and mischief on your voice as you turn your face to look at him and jason can't help but chuckle and nod, like a kid that's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to "and who said i wanted to let you, jaybird?" you ask but deep down you knew you would let jason get his way with you anytime he wanted to.
"you... you're not doing a thing to stop me from touching you like this" he says, his voice is low and his hands are now both on your chest, he squeezes your tits firmly before lifting your bra "it is because you know you're all mine to enjoy or because you want me to actually feel you up completely?"
the way he speaks and touches you manage to drag a soft moan out of your lips and it makes him feel powerful because he knows how to make you melt. that's what he wants, jason wants to be the one to always make you feel good, he wants the reason you smile and moan, the only one to know every corner of your body so he could give back all the good things you gave him.
jason really enjoys the way it's so easy for him to shut your mind off with the smallest touch when mixed with the right words, he loves whispering into your ear and kissing your neck just to see how needy you can get from it but it was just the effect jason's touch had on you and he couldn't deny you could do the same to him. so now when he gets your shirt lifted and squeezes your breast while kissing your neck he has to hold back a moan when you move and push him to be able and sit on his lap.
"sometimes you should try to pay attention to a movie, you know?" you ask teasingly, leaning in to kiss him again and jason misses no time to let his hands snake under your shirt again just to feel those goosebumps on your skin. it's unthinkable to try and stop to resume your initial plans because your boyfriend is now sucking a subtle trail of small marks on your neck while he starts pulling your shirt off and when he is done your bra stands no chance against him.
"the movie can wait, we can watch it after i make you scream and beg for more..." jason whispers into your ear and he smirks when you tug at the neck of his hoodie, he knows he won and he takes it off and that's when the last strand of control you had vanishes at the sight of his toned body, the faint scars scattered over his skin around that one on his chest that ran all the way down to his stomach it only made him way more appealing.
he really loves the effect he has on you, it makes him feel like he really deserves the way you look at him and how you touch him as if he was your most valuable treasure and he was, his touch equals yours; needy but still lingering enough to make sure you know how he values the fact that you are with him, his grip firm but loving as he holds your hips to make you grind against him once he takes off those comfy sweatpants you wore to bed and that he loved because of how the hugged your figure.
clothes do not last on your bodies and it isn't so much until your body is completely pressed against his while he makes you put your hips up, jason lets his hand wander between your thighs until he has two fingers sneaking over your folds, flicking your clit as he smiles smugly at you.
"do you still want to watch the movie, ma?" he asks, voice now deeper while his finger traces a trail between your folds, teasing your aching pussy before he slips his digits into your entrance. jason looks at you, the hunger in his eyes only adds to your arousal as you grind your hips against his palm, the calloused skin brushing against your swollen clit.
you grunt something that sounds like a shut up and a please mixed up in a hushed moan, as your boyfriend keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you while he kisses and bites your neck, the smirk on his lips doesn't leaves when you struggle to beg him from how much he teases because his free arm is around your back and his hand is now groping your breast.
"already so desperate? i just started, sweetie" he coos you mockingly as he slowly lays you down under him, lips trailing down your neck until he is now kissing and biting on your nipple "just look at the pretty mess you are, all wet around my fingers and you could just cum like this... should i let you get off like this?"
"god, jason– don't do that, i need you" you moan breathlessly and for some reason his words only get you more needy, making jason feel a huge ego boost as he gives you that pretty shit eating grin before he switches to your other breast, sucking and teasing you more as his fingers leave your pussy, entrance now clenching around nothing.
there's a feeling of relief once you can see jason moving to be between your legs as he trails his kisses to your tummy, lovingly and devoted and his hands squeeze your legs softly to try and help your body to calm a little to no overstimulate you just yet.
"spread your legs baby," he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin and the sweetness on his touch and words makes you comply without thinking twice, your legs spreading almost on its own for him "that's it... wider" he says now smugly, seeing the way you open up just at his presence makes him feel so powerful.
he holds onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs until he makes them rest over his shoulder. his hand guides his hard dick until his tip is lined up with your pussy and he pushes in, slowly as a low growl escapes his throat, holding onto your hips to give a first stroke.
"so fucking thight and i had already stretched your pretty cunt before" he says, his body still until you nod for him to start moving and he doesn't hesitates to start with a quick pace "that's such a pretty toy i got myself, didn't i? i just have to touch you and you'll let me have my way with you..."
he makes it sound so good you can't help but moan, one of your hands reaching for his neck to pull him from his nape; fingers tangling on his hair as you bring his face close to yours and jason only makes his thrusts faster, hiting all the right spots as he holds you bent like this.
"jay– jay please" you whine as you try to really bring his lips to yours, it amuses him and you hear it on his rumbling chuckle, his hands gripping your hips in a way you knew your skin would be painted in finger-print-bruises by tomorrow but you just loved that, silky skin painted with his hickeys and bite marks, a sing of that ownership he had over you.
"use your words, princess," he whispers into your ear, the sound of the dominance on his voice making you moan loudly when his hands also squeeze your ass playfully "you're a big girl, you can use that pretty mouth of yours can't you?"
"please, kiss me jay" you beg, voice shaky as he pounds into you and the way jason is closer now on top of your body, his shoulders still holding your legs up just making the angle perfect for his tip to kiss your cervix.
jason does as you ask, leaning in a pressing a bruissing kiss on your lips and he seems pretty resolved to devour your mouth like that but instead he's met with you really struggling to kiss him back and he is lost in this discovering. it encourages him to move your body as if you were a pretty doll for him to use, placing your legs against your chest but this time only over one of his shoulders.
"feels like too much, pretty doll?" he asks, whispering into your ear almost in a growl and he changes his pace, slowing down to give you deep and slow strokes but still slamming his hips against yours.
"too good, jay... feels just so good" your voice slurred as you cry for him to move a bit faster but jason has just found out how to play with you a little more.
"yeah? you sound way too pretty for me to change the pace, crying like a desperate slut" the use of names sends a shiver down your spine, jason knows what buttons to push in order to get your pleasure to skyrocket and he is really proud of it as he keeps pumping into you, hissing in pleasure when he feels your walls clenching around him "god this feels so fucking good, i could cum into you so deep baby, you'll feel me right here"
one of his hands wanders from your hips to your belly and the thought of him reaching so deep inside of your body is enough to make your body tense, there's something new to all of this because you've felt way more sensitive than before and jason is feeling way too eager to find out how much he can do with that.
"jason please, fill me up like this" you say in between shaky moans, legs trembling already and the way you look at him through those teary cute doe eyes makes him throb into you.
"want me to breed you, baby? i want to see you dripping full of me" he says, his pace fastening again but it grows sloppier as his hand moves from your belly to one of your tits, squeezing it and toying with your nipple "you look so pretty like this, angel, so ready for me to use your body over and over again"
it's amazing the way jason manages to shut your brain off, making your words catch on your throat and turning you into a whimpering mess. rocking your hips to meet his movements until your orgasm hits you, pussy squeezing him like a vice, almost making it impossible for jason to keep thrusting inside of you.
the pleasure of your body washes over him, bringing his own climax to his as he releases into your throbbing pussy as he slows down, letting out a low stream of curses before he comes to a halt still holding your legs against his chest.
"i don't think we'll be watching that movie now, ma..."
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arkhamknightz · 1 year
Text
CLOSURE
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary; in which, spencer tries to fix his mistakes
warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, as you can tell by both titles inspired by taylor’s evermore album!
notes: part 2 to tolerate it ! i’m really glad people actually enjoyed tolerate it, for anyone who asked for a part 2 or hoped for one this is for you! :) with help from @adhdannieedison !
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A month had passed since that fight with Spencer. The letters had started a week and a half ago. First it started off with flowers at your door, a small note attached. “I’m sorry. I still think about you everyday.” You had been rotating through the clothes you had brought in your suitcase, as well as buying new ones.
You couldn’t go back to that apartment. You were staying with a friend, how Spencer got the address isn’t very surprising (thanks to Penelope) but he had started sending letters along with small gifts to the door every other day.
You regretted the fight with Spencer, well, regret isn’t the right word. You meant everything you said, although it wasn’t a secret your frustration got the best of you. Could you have dealt with that better? Yes, absolutely. But his handwriting of each letter of his name only brought an ache to your chest.
It wasn’t right, the way it all went down. He knows that, you know that. You could sense the hesitation in the letters you had received. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the page, intertwined with the ink.
You were doing better, although you couldn’t bring yourself to write back. You’re sure he knew you were receiving the gifts. Otherwise he would’ve stopped sending them. It cut deep to know him as well as you did. With each letter on the page you could vision him writing them.
He would be sat at his desk at home, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to write them at work. If you inspected the page close enough, you could see very faint droplets. You knew Spencer well enough that he would try his best not to ruin the page, although it seemed like some days he never noticed they were there. His tears somewhat marked on the page.
You knew it was probably over. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was sadness masked as such. But you didn’t need his closure. You didn’t need to know what was running through his head the days he started ignoring you out of fear of what it could’ve been.
The way he looked at you that night, the way he spoke when he told you to stop talking. He spoke like you were some situation that needed to be handled. The way you imagined he would speak at work. You were fine with the spite bubbling in your chest. You were perfectly fine for the first week in the spare room, candles lit as tears rolled down your face with a drink in your hand.
Every time you closed your eyes you could feel his presence. You could feel the longing of his hand on your shoulder, soft kisses on your forehead and whispers of reassurance. It hurt to know him the way you did. It hurt knowing he threw something away so easily after building it for years.
You heard a knock on the door, your friend was out at work and you were sat on the couch filling out a form for work. Knowing what it was, you got up off the couch, setting your computer aside and walked over. You opened the door and there on the mat sat another envelope addressed to you, a small box from your favorite bakery sat under it.
You sighed and picked it up before closing the door and locking it, sitting back down before setting both of them on your lap. You looked into the box and softly smiled, your favorite dessert carefully placed into the box. You opened up the letter and pulled out the paper.
“I know I messed up. I can’t express that enough. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry its taken me so long to properly address it. If i’m being quite honest I don’t know why I did the things I did. More of the matter why I stopped doing certain things. All I know is I miss the way you curled up into me in our shared bed. I haven’t been able to sleep there in the last month. I’m afraid if I sleep in our bed the scent of you would fade away.
I’m sorry for throwing what we had away so easily. I don’t know what caused me to act the way I did, or what caused me to lash out at you when you were only frustrated for all the right reasons. The team was right. It was never about work, but it also wasn’t about you. I can’t pinpoint what caused my behavior but all I know is I’m sorry. And I’ll spend every moment I can trying to show you that I mean that.
This might be a push, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Please, come home soon. I want to work this through. I want to be better for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t when I still had you with me. If you do decide to come home one day by some miracle, I’ll be waiting. I’d wait forever if I had to. I really hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry for the damage I caused, theres not a single day that goes by where I don’t regret what I must’ve put you through.
Yours always, Spencer. x”
You sighed and wiped away the tear that had fell from your eye. You set the letter back into the envelope and put it on the coffee table in front of you. You had gotten a majority of your work done since that night, emotions fueling you to write your papers and get as much work done as you could.
You started going on runs in the park, music playing through your ears as you circled around the area. You really were doing better, the flood of any pain and love you had pushing you to grow and rediscover yourself. You didn’t need his closure, you were just a wrinkle in his life. His guilt was probably what caused him to reach out, but you didn’t need some fake insincere apology from him.
He was apologizing for himself, so he wouldn’t have to live with that guilt. Right? If he really felt bad he would’ve reached out to you sooner. Right? You found yourself making excuses for him again, anger starting to creep its way into your stomach. You loved him, you knew he cared about you. But all you could do was formulate bad intentions in your head.
By the time you ran into Spencer, you were out with your friend at a bar 3 weeks later. You didn’t expect to see him there, nor his entire team. You locked eyes with him from across the room, a tightening ache in your heart as you saw the distinct bags under his eyes, drink in his hand. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of drinking. Although he did it every so often, he barely ever let himself get as drunk as he looked.
It hurt that you could see his tired features from so far away. Guilt started to slowly rise in your chest before you turned around and downed your drink. “Woah slow down there. What’s up?” You looked over at your friend. “He’s here. With his entire team.” Her eyes widened and she turned around to look around the bar, low and behold there she saw Spencer sitting at a table with a group of people.
“Do not turn around he’s walking- okay well stumbling this way.” You shut your eyes tightly as you heard him call out your name. You looked over at your friend who smiled in sympathy and walked away to go get a new drink. Your breath hitched as he stopped on the other side of you. “Hey.”
You could hear the crack of his voice, you missed the way he spoke to you at night, both of you laying in bed while you whispered sweet nothings to each-other. You turned around and smiled sadly. “Hey Spence” you saw him tear up at the nickname and you quickly panicked. “Hey hey, don’t cry please don’t cry.” He sniffled. “I missed you. I’m so so sorry.” A tear rolled down his cheek, your facial expression now mirroring his.
You could feel any anger you had towards him bubble away as you pulled him into a hug, his body shook against yours as he settled his head into your neck. Cracks in his voice muffled by your hair as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so so badly. I’ve missed you so much I’m sorry I know you hate m-“ you quickly cut him off. “I’m still upset yes but I don’t hate you.”
You pulled away looking at him, his eyes red and puffy brimmed with tears. “I could never hate you.” You reached up to wipe away his tears, thumb brushing against his cheek which only made him cry harder. Normally, you probably would feel embarrassed, you were both crying in the middle of the bar, but all you could focus on was him.
“I’m gonna take you home okay? We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to sleep.” He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue. You looked over at his team, who all looked away quickly, their eyes darting around the room pretending they weren’t watching. You softly chuckled and made eye contact with Derek before mouthing you were gonna take him home.
He nodded and you locked hands with Spencer before letting your friend know you were taking him home. She nodded and told you to stay safe before you walked out. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy, eyes red with tears while he looked down, sniffles coming from him.
You waved down a taxi before getting him inside, sitting beside him. You gave them the address to your old apartment and you sat in silence. The only noise coming from the radio, the streets and his small sniffles. After being dropped off, you reached out and he gave you his keys, you opened the door and your heart broke at the state of the apartment. Books were thrown out onto the floor, the kitchen seemingly untouched, you took a look at the couch and saw a thin blanket sprawled out, pillow thrown onto the floor.
You sighed and looked at Spencer who was already looking at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.” You let out a small laugh, wiping away his tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get you to bed yeah?” He nodded and walked through the apartment with you. You cleaned up while he got changed in your bedroom, putting away the books and folding up the blanket on the couch.
You grabbed his pillow and walked into your room. Spencer was staring at your side of the bed and you placed his pillow back in its spot and sat on the edge of the bed. He took the hint and sat right next to you. You looked down and picked at your nails, his hand grasping yours to stop you. “Don’t do that.” He held your hand and now you were the one crying.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, as if speaking any louder would break you. “I know.” You both sat in silence for a little, small sniffles echoing throughout the room. “You should get some sleep Spencer.” He nodded and you got up, allowing him to lay down. You walked into the closet and changed into comfier clothes before walking into the bathroom and washing your face.
You came back out and laid next to him. His arm wrapping around your waist like it used to. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, fitting like a missing puzzle piece. You were doing fine without him. But you knew what was missing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live the rest of your life the same without him there. His arms felt like home, his kisses like rays of sunshine hitting your face, his hugs like being enveloped by a warm blanket.
You hadn’t been able to sleep well, missing the way you felt safe while you were asleep with him. Now whenever you slept you kept a small light on, but it hardly even came close to fulfilling the security you longed for. You smiled softly as he quickly fell asleep, his arms unconsciously starting to tighten around you.
The next morning you woke up before Spencer. You got up and walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some painkillers. You knew he hated taking them, preferring to push through it. But after last night you knew he would need it. You heard quick shuffling and your bedroom door swing open, you turned around and he had tears in his eyes, before he finally settled on your figure left in the kitchen.
This only seemed to make it worse. He let out a choked sob as you looked at him. “Hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” You joked, he cracked a smile and shook his head. “Never.” You handed him the cup of water and he drank it, taking the small pill reluctantly.
After a few minutes you both sat on the couch. You had been dreading this conversation since you saw him at the bar last night. “I know I’ve said sorry, but I want to prove that to you. I want to show you I mean it wholeheartedly. Pushing you away the way that I did was inexcusable. So I’m not gonna try to come up with one. But I know it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I know you deserve better than someone who could do something like that to you.”
You nodded. “I know I deserved better.” His eyes looked into his lap, his hands fiddling with each-other. “But I didn’t want better. I wanted you Spencer. I knew the difficulty of your job, I knew the relationship wouldn’t be perfect all the time. That I was perfectly okay with. What I didn’t appreciate was you pushing me away, the comments you had started making at me, the way you told me to stop talking when I was angry like I had no right to be.”
He nodded in understanding as you continued, “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you Spencer. So it hurt when you pushed me away and made no effort to show you cared in the slightest. I was trying my best and it seemed like it wasn’t enough for you. So I walked away because I knew I wasn’t gonna let myself go through that.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I know saying that over and over doesn’t do anything if I don’t prove myself that I mean it. I want to be better this time. And I know that’s gonna take a lot and that’s something I’m more than willing to do. If I have to wait a year for you to fully forgive me I will in a heartbeat. Please. Just let me show you I’ve changed? That I want this to work?”
You nodded and he smiled softly before silently asking to hug you. You pulled him in and you sat in his arms, basking in the warmth and the way he pulled you closer to his chest if that was even humanly possible. You were doing fine without him. But you knew you would never be complete with him beside you.
note: HI i hope this ending is satisfying for everyone. i know i seemingly rushed through this but ideas were flowing! my requests are open for anyone who wants to send in some things, i mostly write song fics, since i find them easiest and can produce them the quickest. but im open to all requests! i have a list of people i write for in my pinned, so please don’t be afraid to send something in! :)
tag list; @sebastiansstanswhore @deadunicorn159 @adhdannieedison
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jeonbunnie · 4 months
Text
hate you
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pairing: reader x jeon jeongguk
summary: This time, the break up breaks Jeongguk
genre: angst
content/warnings: ex-boyfriend!jeongguk; established relationship;break up!au; drinking; suggestive thoughts
Soundtrack: hate you— by Jeongguk
a/n:hi hi! long time no see. thought i’d break into the new year with a lol drabble based on beloved lol drabble i wrote last year. you don’t have to read the last posts to understand but you read them for context here and here.
word count: 1.2K
It's not the truth. It's not the cure. But hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt.
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Jeongguk tipped his head back, letting the liquid gold slide down his throat. Chugging his beer was nothing, especially when he’d had so much practice lately. But when he slammed down his empty glass on the bar, there was no satisfaction or warmth blooming in his chest to erase that hollow feeling lingering inside him since last year. 
Since you.
“Hey, slow down,” chided Namjoon beside him. “Haven’t you had enough?”
No. Jeongguk’s sure there’s not enough alcohol at this party to drown out the taste of your lips on his or the memory of what it felt like to hold you in his arms and feel your smile against his cheek. Not when he has a front-row seat to watch you do all those things with someone else. 
But damn it all to hell. He’d rather die trying than sit here sober with the cold, hard reality of watching you move on with someone new. 
Jeongguk doesn’t mean to be an ass, ignoring his best friend’s concerns (he’s sure they’re valid). It’s self-preservation, not noncompliance, that has him reaching back into the cooler to pull out another cold one. 
“Jeongguk, I’m worried about you.”
Jeongguk laughed. “I’m fine,” he said. . . But his voice is low and bitter and sharp like poison.
Namjoon shook his head, “You’re not fine, Jeongguk. You’ve been self-destructing since you broke up with (Y/n).”
“Yeah, well, maybe this is my karma.”
Jeongguk used to think luck or fate brought the two of you together, having always run in the same friend groups and circles. But now, it seemed his luck had run out, or fate thought it’d be a cruel joke to keep him in your orbit even after you broke up. 
No, this had to be some kind of punishment for running away from your love. In return, he was forced to watch your love story play out with someone else.
Literally. Jeongguk’s so fucking jealous; it’s all he can do not to stride across the room and rip you away from the stranger you’re currently entangled with. The sight is enough to make his blood boil, and he can’t help the tick in his jaw or keep the glare out of his eyes.  
 Jeongguk can’t stop staring at the fucker who has his tongue down your throat. 
It should be his tongue down your throat. His hands on your ass, pulling you close and your grinder, your bodies impossibly close, and only hoping to get closer. Because you’re his. 
Or at least you used to be.
The thought alone is enough to have Jeongguk flag down another drink. But before he could reach for another cold one, Namjoon blocked him off. “No. You’ve already had one too many.”
“So what? Who cares if I get a little fucked up?”
“I care. This isn’t you.”
Jeongguk couldn’t help the rueful smile that split across his lips. “Maybe it is me. I fucked it all up.”
That’s the worst part. That ugly feeling in his chest, the jealousy burning him up inside as he watched you love another. It was all his fault. 
It made Jeongguk sick to see you laugh, eyes sparking at something this asshole said because he remembers when that look was reserved only for him. And now here you were, giving it to another. Jeongguk knew he had no right to feel this jealousy. Not when he’s the one who set you free. But still—It should be him taking you home tonight, stripping off your clothes, pounding into your tight little—
Fuck.
Just the thought of having you again had him hard. He couldn’t turn it off, the need for you. He couldn’t keep his hands off you even when he ended things. He replayed that last night in his head like a broken record, but he couldn’t rewind time like he did his memories.
“Jeongguk. . .are you crying?”
“No,” he said. And then, “Maybe.”
“We don’t have to be here. You wanna get fucked up? We can do that in any bar. It doesn’t have to be here. 
“Why are you torturing yourself?” 
“You’re a good friend, Joon. But I can’t. I can’t walk away.” Yeah, he knew it was ruining him, making him bitter, but if this was the only way he could be close to you, then so be it.
He can’t help it. That’s what he tells himself. He can’t help but watch you—crave you—even if you don’t so much as glance in his direction.
Or maybe he’s torturing himself because it’s what he deserves. 
“I’m not gonna watch you destroy yourself over some girl.”
“She’s not just some girl.”
You were everything. You were golden. Or at least that’s what it felt like, loving you. 
You were the heat of summer. The only warmth on a cold winter day. You were the golden light of the first sunrise and the radiant glow of the sun setting low. You were the only bright spot in this cold, dark world.
You were the fucking sun. 
And without you, Jeongguk might as well be dead inside. 
Jeongguk wasn’t blind (but god, did he wish he was right now). He knew it was over. It was clear as day you’d moved on—and worse—that you’re happy with someone new, someone that’s not him. He starts towards you, ready to tell you as much, get on his knees, beg your forgiveness again, and plead for your safe return into his arms when the world tilts and his vision blurs.
It’s Joon who helped him stay upright. Joon, who took the beer can from his hands and slung an arm around his shoulder, guided him through the crowd. 
“You’re so wasted up right now. I’m taking you home.” 
Joon, who drove him back to his apartment and led him to the bed. 
It felt like seconds, or maybe it’s been hours; Jeongguk couldn’t tell. He’s too fucked up to be sure of the footsteps he takes passing between doors. He only knew where he was when his face planted into the comforter, and the laundry scent told him he was home.
Because it’s your scent. Or rather, the smell of your laundry detergent. It was the only thing you left behind when you moved out, and now Jeongguk bought it for himself, clinging to the only piece of you he could have. He could almost pretend you were right there with him if he got under the sheets and closed his eyes.
Jeongguk’s the one who broke it off, but he can’t even remember the reason why now. It was stupid, thinking your relationship was too comfortable, too boring. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was good, wasn’t it? Why did he ever want to explore something else? But in the short months you were apart, all he discovered was that for him, there was no one else.
Jeongguk wished he could blame it on something, someone, anything else. It’d be easy to blame it on you, but you were blameless. He almost wished that you lied, that the betrayal he felt blooming had started when you were still together so that this anger inside him could be directed elsewhere.  
It’d be so much easier to paint you as the villain, but that’s not who you are in his story. You’re the one who got away. 
It’d be so much easier for Jeongguk to hate you—not love you.
But he can’t. So, instead, he just hates himself. 
For being weak and losing you.
For falling in love too late. 
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