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#sorry I'd do a better job if I had more time
nohoperadio · 2 days
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Here's a little breakdown of my personal relationship/non-relationship with various types of aesthetic self-modification (?, I feel like there might be a word or at least a more elegant phrase to denote this category). The point is not to offer my "take" on each thing but to express the different feelings/desires/inhibitions my psyche manifests around them. Some of these will approach awkwardly personal territory, fair warning! You may notice that basically none of them are especially positive; I'm going to leave off from analyzing that pattern for this post.
Tattoos -- I think tattoos as a concept are extremely cool, frequently they're cool in practice also and I like seeing other people's, but I don't think I've ever had even the smallest urge to get one for myself. I'm not totally sure why. The lack of an obvious thing to get is one factor, I feel like "band tattoo" would be the most likely thing for me to have but I don't like the idea of directly lifting a band logo or album art and I really don't like the idea of a lyric tattoo (I offer no justification for these prejudices), so I'd have to get clever with it if I'm doing that and I'm not very clever. More broadly, I predict that my enthusiasm for any artwork I put on my body would fade through overexposure in a matter of weeks if not days--other people describe "barely knowing it's there" after a short time--which on top of making the value of the project seem dubious, I feel like having a permanent image on my skin that I don't actively love would be something I'd feel bad about rather than neutral. Like "man, that thing's on my arm and I don't care about it at all, that sucks" rather than just not noticing it. Maybe I'm wrong about that.
(Tattoos are the one that got me thinking about this whole subject I think, it feels like they're reaching a ubiquity in the culture where it's almost like you're expected to have a reason not to have one rather than a reason to? Maybe that's just a people-I-know thing, anyway it got me thinking about why I don't want one.)
Piercings -- An interesting thing about me and piercings is that it's virtually impossible for me to notice when somebody has them unless I'm like, actively consciously scrutinizing their face (or whatever it is). When I was about ten months into my current job I asked my co-worker who I worked closely with almost every day "hey when did you get that septum ring" and she was like "well way before I met you". That is simply how it is with me and piercings and I make no apology.
If my inability to perceive piercings (perceirvings...) makes me indifferent to the idea of getting one, what makes me actively hostile is the total certainty that I would fiddle with it constantly if I did. I know these hands and their ways and there would simply be no dissuading them, it would be so bad you guys, oh my god. This is probably the hardest no on the list I think, although I haven't finished the post yet so idk maybe I'll think of a worse one.
Makeup -- There's undeniably a lot that's very beautiful in the universe of makeup and there's also the weird dark side, I have dabbled a little in this area and in my heart I feel more positively than not about it, but it's just never going to be a sustainable part of my life because (not unrelated to previous para) I am a perennial and unrepentant face-toucher. I will be itching and rubbing my face-skin and also inflicting other hard-to-characterize punishments upon it (is this "stimming"?) until the day I die and anything that wants to be on my face has just gotta deal. It would probably be better if this was not the case but I don't make the rules, sorry.
Haircuts -- When I was a child I haaaaaated getting my hair cut, like the physical sensation of it? Was so horrible and would usually make me cry and always ruin my day (is this "sensory overload"?), I didn't understand why I was being made to go through this ordeal and basically as soon as I reached an age when I realized my mom couldn't literally force me to do it if I just stubbornly refused hard enough--that age was 13 I think--I stopped. I haven't had a professional haircut since that time although I'm sure I could cope with the sensory aspect at this point, it's just not a habit I ever picked up again (I've had a couple of non-professional ones from my ex who just kind of wanted to try it, in a not particularly ambitious or dramatic fashion). Sometimes I feel like I should, but idk. My hair as it stands is not optimized for making me look hot but I don't think it looks especially horrible either, it's just kind of whatever I think.
Complicating factor here: I've had trichotillomania since I was 15/16, and it's hard to imagine it going away at this point but it's a lot more under control than it used to be, to the point where you can't really tell just from my appearance that something's up now. I say "under control", I have very little conscious control over it and usually no conscious awareness that I'm doing it, but over the years the compulsion seems to have unconsciously settled into a routine where it's just kind of... sculpting my hair into a more-or-less normal silhouette? Like I sort of have a fringe and stuff despite no haircuts. Oh I guess this doesn't make sense unless I clarify that I mostly break rather than pluck the hair nowadays, that's a big part of the gradual unconscious shift that's occurred.
A fun thing about trichotillomania is that it often makes people really uncomfortable when you talk about having it, which sucks for me because it makes me feel lonely, but I guess it sucks for the person feeling uncomfortable too in a smaller way. If you're one of the people who feel uncomfortable around this topic, sorry! Quite genuinely.
Gender transition in general -- I feel like I'm just, just on the boring side of cis-by-default. I think about transitioning shockingly often for someone who's never gonna do it, like it's not searing a hole in my heart or anything like it is for a lot of people but it occupies that "it would be cool to learn an instrument" kind of niche in my thoughts, if that makes sense? (Probably a bit stronger than that analogy makes it sound, it's on my mind frequently but not with a massive sense of urgency attached I guess is what I'm getting at.) I can see myself taking the plunge if the medical technology was like 10% better, or the social technology was like 20% better, or with some medium-sized changes in how my personality was configured, but this life being this life there's no way in heck the juice would be worth the squeeze. If I had one fifth of the executive function required to do all of that lying to doctors and learning how to clothes shop and having awkward conversations with people in my life and all the rest of it, well I can list like ten things I'd rather spend it on first. And I don't!
Glasses -- Love wearing glasses, 10/10 no notes. I knew since I was like 11 that my face should have a pair of glasses on it and I was very smug when the optician agreed (I did not cheat on the eye test in any way for what it's worth). The only times I'm not wearing glasses are sleeping and showering. I don't even carry a case because there's no point because I simply don't ever take them off. This is probably overkill, I think as a kid I was instructed to only put them on when I need to see something in the distance, ignoring that and just wearing them permanently has probably led to my vision weakening to the point where they're now pretty much mandatory in every situation, but I don't give a shit about that because just let me wear my goddamned glasses okay, fuck off. It's actually crazy how much I like wearing glasses, this is the only true thumbs up on the list.
I remembering trying to explain how I like my glasses to a then-close friend of mine many years ago when the subject of laser eye surgery came up in conversation, he said I should get the surgery and then just wear glasses with non-prescription lenses. When I tried to explain why that wouldn't be the same at all he was adamant that I was just being stubborn. That guy was a wonderful person in many ways and I loved him very deeply, but man what a dumbass thing to say.
Facial hair -- There are so many great beards and moustaches in this world, there are few more cheering sights than someone bearing some swish whiskers who's pleased about it, but personally I don't wish to be involved in that business at all.
I never learned how to ride a bike -- Obviously this one doesn't belong on the list, it doesn't fit with any of the other categories, and yet I feel compelled to include it here. And why should I resist that which compels me? This is my post. Yeah, I'm the oldest of four siblings, we were all given bikes at the appropriate kid-on-bike age, the others picked it up but not me. I liked it when I had stabilizers on my bike, then they took them off and I started falling off the bike, and after a very short amount of time I gave up. Like I didn't get mad injuries or anything, it just felt like I wasn't improving at it quickly enough and I didn't feel like keeping it up so I didn't. Early indication of my bad personality.
Fashion in general -- Clothes shopping has always been extremely aversive to me for whatever reason, it's gotten a little better in recent years, I have been able to exist inside clothes shops for long enough to purchase a small thing or two, but eh. Most of my tops are band t-shirts I bought at gigs, most of my bottoms are exactly identical pairs of jeans, there's just not much going on you know? But unlike with most of the items on this list I would really like to be doing this properly. I would like to wear cuter things with prettier colours and designs. This one's an actual goal. But so far I haven't really made progress. The aforementioned shopping sucks thing, plus a fear of being so aesthetically clueless that I just make myself look like a big idiot if I try anything risky, plus the fact that doing things that are not my established routine is tricky in general--these are barriers for me. I guess another barrier is that the things that would be most interesting to try out and therefore most potentially motivating fall into the wrong-gender-clothes category and therefore bring into play some of the barriers from that other category a few ones up. I did actually somehow get myself to dabble in that area some years ago to a modest but positive degree of satisfaction. It'll probably happen again. The patterns and causes that determine whether I can or cannot find motivation to engage in a thing--they are mysterious indeed.
Like horn implants or whatever other crazy miscellany -- I don't want anything in this category and don't have any non-trivial thoughts about it either. Including this section for completeness only.
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Well, there you have it, that's the post. Now you know a bit more about some of my little weirdsies. If you actually made it through the whole thing, a) how interesting and b) why not tell me a little weirdsy of yours in return, whether it pertains to the above list or not? Why not get all antiphonal on my post, that way I'd get to know a thing about you as well, it might be a whole fun kind of deal. You don't have to though, I didn't make this post to try to snare people into letting themselves be known, I just kind of made it to be a post mostly. I make all sorts of kinds of posts you know? And so I thought I'd try one that's like this.
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onesidedradiostatic · 3 months
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how vox's "offer" for alastor to join his "team" went
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astonmartinii · 7 months
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kiss it better | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x first responder!reader when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.
f1
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f1: woah. huge shunt for oscar piastri in turn three. the australian was pulled out of the car by first responders and is getting treatment. red flag for now.
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user1: omg like my breath was completely gone, i hope oscar is okay
user2: holy shit that's the worst crash i've ever seen i'm so glad they aren't replaying it
user3: i tuned in late and i knew as soon as they didn't replay it it had to be bad
user4: thank the lord for the first responders, they were so fast i hope oscar is good
user5: i'm gonna need netflix to take the backseat on this one i can't take the dramatic editing this is already stressful enough
user6: the grosjean crash was bad enough, i can't deal with it with oscar
user7: are there any updates yet?
user8: not yet.
user9: i'm sat in the grandstand right where this was and it was literally so scary, the first responders literally had to jump on the car
user10: so so lucky that they were stationed so close to where he crashed
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: first of all i'd like to thank everyone for their support and well wishes, i really appreciate it. it's actually thanks to y/n and the rest of the first responders that i'm back on my feet as fast as i am. big thank you to y/n for sacrificing her ability to shower comfortably to help me out of the car and avoid the flames, i am eternally grateful and mama piastri would like you over for dinner to thank you.
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user9: i'm so so happy he's okay, that crash was so scary
landonorris: glad to hear you're okay mate !
oscarpiastri: you can't get rid of me that easily norris
landonorris: woah, no joking about dying when you've only been discharged for 24 hours
oscarpiastri: sorry, skipped over that one in my contract
danielricciardo: make sure you always read that mclaren contract carefully
user11: thank you y/n for your service
user12: for real she put her leg on the line for oscar she needs a raise
yourusername: it was my pleasure to do my job and help you out oscar. and i'll always take up an offer for a mum's dinner
oscarpiastri: she'll be very happy to hear that
yourusername: text me the details and i'll be there
user13: it's so crazy to me how f1 drivers just get up and walk out of crashes like that
user14: no for real how is the medic more injured than him 😭
logansargent: you are so lucky there were no cameras when you were on painkillers cause you were talking some shit
oscarpiastri: please don't remind me
logansargent: just because there weren't cameras in the room doesn't mean i didn't record you, i look forward to my birthday present this year
oscarpiastri: you wouldn't
logansargent: you wanna bet?
user15: so like how bad do we think what oscar said was?
user16: and how much do we need to pay logan to release it?
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mclaren
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tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & yourusername
mclaren: after her heroics in the first half of the season, y/n finally took oscar up and is a guest of mclaren this weekend. as a medic, y/n is one of the most important aspects of a race weekend, and it's an honour to host her!
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user17: did oscar write this caption? that man was BLUSHING in the fan questions video
user18: awwww mama piastri is also there this weekend and in a load of the pictures in the paddock they stuck together
oscarpiastri: so happy to see you again y/n !!
yourusername: my pleasure, oscar. racing is a lot more fun from the garage
oscarpiastri: i'll try my best not to crash this time, i know my favourite medic isn't on duty
yourusername: oh wow what a title, i'll wear it with pride
user19: they're such dorks i love them so much
landonorris: can someone get me some popcorn, i'm enjoying watching oscar squirm and blush all weekend
oscarpiastri: i am NOT !!
landonorris: don't worry i'm sure y/n finds it cute
oscarpiastri: can you please STOP !!
yourusername: not to prove lando right but it is very cute
user20: lando is taking his big brother role a bit too far
alexalbon: you were right @logansargent this is fun to watch
logansargent: oh just you wait until you find out the stuff he was saying in hospital
oscarpiastri: please stop telling people
alexalbon: from what i heard she was right there @yourusername what did he say logan is being a good friend (for now)
yourusername: considering i literally fried my leg getting him out i don't remember most of that day
alexalbon: UGH you people are no help
yourusername: ???
oscarpiastri: ???
yourusername
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yourusername: no pulling this one out of a burning wreck this weekend 👍
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user21: omg oscar's smile ??? i am faint
landonorris: do i mean nothing to you?
yourusername: i am literally oscar's guest let me rep him in peace
landonorris: booooooo if you're going to wear his number might as well ask him out while you're at it
yourusername: mind your business, i know what i'm doing
user22: Y/N?????????
oscarpiastri: i see you know my angles already, can you come every weekend?
yourusername: i'd love to but i have a lil thing called a job :(
oscarpiastri: boring, can't you be my full time personal photographer?
landonorris: and his girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: do you mind?
landonorris: what? i'm just trying to help
oscarpiastri: you are MEDDLING
yourusername: you guys done?
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: NO
user23: lando is a no 1 y/n x oscar shipper he's so real
user24: y/n is so much stronger than me i'd hand in my notice right this second
yourusername: believe me i would if i could
landonorris: to both options?
oscarpiastri: LANDO STOP
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 19,056 others
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yourusername: happy to be your guardian angel baby x
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user29: new f1 parents just entered the chat
landonorris: i'm taking responsibility for this happening, you’re welcome
yourusername: stop right there buddy, this was all ME
oscarpiastri: nuh uh it was ME
yourusername: i asked YOU out?
oscarpiastri: technically yes, but i asked you to dinner first
yourusername: actually, if i remember correctly that was your mum
oscarpiastri: FINE you asked me out and i'm very glad you did and you ARE my guardian angel and you ARE way out of my league
landonorris: you said it i didn't
oscarpiastri: LANDO LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE YOU NUISANCE
landonorris: woah, you've changed bro
yourusername: are we finished boys?
landonorris: yes, and for real i am very happy for you guys
user30: lando saying he made this happen is the most lando thing ever
logansargent: can you tell him to stop ignoring me now?
yourusername: soz under strict rules not to fraternize with a traitor
logansargent: I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HANDLE SPICE
user31: at least logan is self-aware
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: sometimes all you need to do is flip an f1 car into a barrier and burst into flames to meet the love of your life (and give her third degree burns)
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user32: OSCAR WITH A BACKWARDS CAP TEACHING HER TENNIS SOMEONE CALL 911 I AM NOT OKAY
landonorris: okay we get it now you guys are cute
yourusername: for someone who was 'the reason we got together' you've changed your tune
landonorris: yes i am glad you have each other but that doesn't change the fact that i am LONELY and don't need to see gross couple stuff
oscarpiastri: you poor baby
landonorris: NO SYMPATHY?
oscarpiastri: i'm gonna cite all of your tomfoolery in the other comment sections
landonorris: okay fair
user33: okay but can we promise to never have a crash like that again?
yourusername: agreed
aussiegrit: happy for you kid
oscarpiastri: thank you mark :)
yourusername: so this is mark... hi?
aussiegrit: don't worry i've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, i look forward to meeting you at the next race
user34: y/n already has all of the approval oh wow
yourusername: i love you dummy (never do that again or i'll never talk to you again)
oscarpiastri: you got it, wins only from now on 🫡
yourusername: ur the champion in my heart
oscarpiastri: 🧡 🧡 🧡
logansargaent
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tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
logansargeant: public shaming is good sometimes. though now i third wheel with only a fish by my side
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user35: i am SCREAMING
yourusername: oh florida boy, your time will come (don't put that fish pic on your tinder, i know you want to)
logansargeant: girls love fish?
yourusername: trust me they don't
logansargeant: is this just because oscar is bad at fishing?
yourusername: DELETE IT FROM YOUR TINDER PROFILE NOW OR THIRD WHEEL FOREVER
user36: what is going on here?
alexalbon: god logan this is tragic, how did you expose him and end up with a fish as your date
logansargeant: but is the size of the fish not impressive?
alexalbon: no, take y/n's advice
oscarpiastri: fine, you're forgiven. only because y/n found it cute, if she found it weird it would be you found at the bottom of a lake
logansargeant: ???????????? there was a chilli oscar
oscarpiastri: stop hiding behind your american passport, i'd eat that chilli for you
logansargeant: but it all worked out?
oscarpiastri: thankfully for you
yourusername: is it bad that this is kinda sexy?
logansargeant: he threatened to murder me?
yourusername: he's so protective 🫶
oscarpiastri: hehehehe thanks babe x
logansargeant: i give up.
note: WOAH two in one night? i am on a roll. anyhow, do enjoy, i love oscar so much so glad he extended !! xx
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Hello and hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could do smut story where the reader get more than she bargained for when telling Bucky that his dark side could do a better job at certain things. Also your stories are amazing ❤️🖤
Bucky gives you what you ask
YESSS. Thank you bb, Im so sorry this took forever and I hope you see this, I loved this so much. And as always I got so lost in it. Good God. He is dirty, dirty here.
You loved the way Bucky loved you. He was so soft, gentle, took care of all your needs without leaving behind a single mark on your delicate skin. Bucky was nothing more than a soft sweet thing, slowly getting back into his boyish 40's charm, a gentleman at all times. If you didn't know about his past, you would've never guessed he'd have another side to him.
But you'd seen the shift in his demeanor whenever he'd train in the gym and even more so when he was out on the field. The way his eyes would narrow with laser like focus when hitting his targets, the way he wouldn't flinch when putting a bullet between their eyes. His face would be expressionless when his metal arm would wrap around their throat, slowly draining life out of them, parts of the Winter Soldier still running deep in his veins.
And how badly you craved to have that side of him take you apart.
"What is it sweets" Bucky watched you fidget with the buckles of his tac suit, helping him undress after he'd just returned after a mission. There was something about him in his all black straps, leather and weapons that made your knees weak. It didn't help that his beard had started to fill out, the ends of his hair starting to curl at the nape of his neck. "You okay?"
You adore how attentive he is even when he's exhausted after weeks away from home but you wished just for once, he'd choke you with his metal arm instead of just hugging you with it.
"I want-" You paused for a second before continuing, "I want more"
"More of what doll" Bucky's wide puppy eyes were filled with worry; he made sure to always pay attention to your needs and he'd do anything to make you happy. "Tell me, you know I'd do anything"
"Just- take more control, be more rough with me" You weren't sure how you wanted to explain yourself but your body knew exactly what it needed, growing hotter by the second the longer he stood there in his tac suit before you. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what you meant, laying down his knifes off to the side on the dressed.
"I had you moaning my name before I left doll" Bucky playfully rolled his eyes while you huffed, your sexual frustration only growing more when he tossed off his Kevlar leaving him in his tight black tshirt.
"Well the Winter Solider would have me screaming" You shrug, not noticing the way Bucky froze, now staring at you without blinking. "I think that side of you would do a better job at certain things, Buck"
"You don't want to see that side of me sweets" Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral, ignoring the way his cock was already throbbing in his pants, straining painfully against the thick fabric.
"But what if I do?" you challenged back, taking a step back when he moved forward, slowly backing you against the wall of your shared bedroom.
"Doll..." He warned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to collect himself, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That's not a good idea"
"Why not, think the Winter Soldier wouldn't be able to make me feel as good?" You added a taunt to your voice, hoping to rile him up, his chest now nearly pressing against yours, caging you against the wall.
"Is that so" Bucky tested the water slowly, still wanting to give you an out if you needed one because he wasn't going to be able to hold back once he started. You nodded, heart hammering against your chest as he took in a deep breath, his jaw clenched.
"As you wish sweets" He whispered by your ear, the tip of his cool metal knife suddenly pressing against your throat. Your eyes grew wide at the fact that he'd slipped it into his hand so swiftly, you hadn't noticed. "If you want me to stop, say Brooklyn, understand?"
"Yes" You squeaked, while he dragged it till it rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look meet his darkened eyes. Without a word, he sliced down your blouse, ripping away at the material that caught in the middle. He didn't give you a chance to speak, his hands grabbing the edges of your bra, splitting it into two before tearing your leggings into pieces next.
You were complete naked within seconds, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, still fully dressed himself. Bucky had seen you naked countless times, in fact you'd change in front of him without a care in the world, always giggling at the cute blush he'd have on his cheeks.
But this wasn't the same.
Not even the slightest.
He tossed you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed letting you bounce off the mattress while he stood at the edge.
"Spread your legs"
It wasn't a request. It was a demand.
Bucky looked like he wanted to devour you. This was the same man that had his head between your legs more times than you could count but he was staring at you like he'd never seen you before. You shrunk back, squeezing your thighs together at the low growl he made, grasping your ankles and splitting them apart till you were completely exposed to him, your wet folds giving away how turned on you were. He fumbled with the button of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, his palm and fingers swiping up your pussy to gather you slick, slathering it over his erection.
"Such a pretty baby with such a pretty pussy"
You bit back a whine as he started to jerk his cock, circling the tip with his thumb, spreading his own arousal around. He took a step back to admire you, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down till he was satisfied with his fill. He moved to lay on top of you, his nose trailing along the column of your neck, inhaling your soft scent. There was something so feral about him, you stayed frozen in place while his hands found their way to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh.
"I'll show you exactly what you've been missing out on" He nipping your earlobe before crawling off you again to throw off the rest of his clothes. "God, I've wanted this for so long"
There was no prep, no foreplay, no soft kisses and sweet words. Bucky grabbed your hips, manhandling you till your face was pressed against the mattress, his swollen cockhead prodding at your fluttering pussy. He let out a dark chuckle, swiping his cock up and down through your folds, pressing his tip against your clit.
"Bucky, fuck me" You were desperate to feel him inside you, wiggling your hips as best as you could to get him to push it in you but you were instead met with a harsh slap to your ass, the cool metal making your skin sting.
"Impatient little slut" He shook his head, taking both your wrists and twisting them behind your back, He held them in one hand while the other snaked up tp grab your hair, tugging it tight from the roots. "Beg. Beg me to fuck you"
"P-Please Bucky, want it!"
"You want who to fuck you princess, say it, tell me exactly whose cock you want to ruin you"
"Yours soldat, please, want you, please fuck me solda-FUCKK" Bucky slammed his cock into you without warning, setting in a brutal pace that had you gasping for air. His balls smacked you with each thrust, the grip he had on your wrists and hair tightening for better leverage.
"I fuck needed this" His head was thrown back, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he fucked you harder than ever before, the squelching of your pussy making a sticky, dirty mess all over him. "You have no. Fucking. Idea. how fucking hard is it every time I fuck you"
His words were punctuated with harsh thrusts, growling at the way you'd already started to flutter around him as he hit your cervix. Your jaw was slack from surprise and pleasure, pathetic moans and whimpers replacing your words.
"Do you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back kotenok? How hard is it for me to not fuck your brains out when I'm deep in such a tight pussy? How badly I want to rail you, YA tak dolgo khotel tebya trakhnut" [I wanted to fuck you so hard for so long]
You'd never hard Bucky speak Russian, not once but his filthy mouth didn't stop as he continued to rail you, foreign curses dripping from his mouth.
"You think I'm such a gentleman don't you, huh? You remember the first time we had sex princess? how I made love to you? How slow it was, how you moaned when I put my cock in you for the first time?"
"Y-yes" Your body was slack against the bed, only held up because Bucky was gripping onto you with a bruising hold.
"I made love to you that night, didn't I. But I like to fuck baby, especially you, I've wanted to fuck this pussy for so long, ruin it all just for me"
You were suddenly flipped over again, whining when you felt empty, only to be filled right back up again seconds later when Bucky laid on his back, pulling you to straddle on top of him. He planted his feet against the mattress, not giving you a chance to move, fucking up into you, the angle of his hips rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you.
"Oh-oh f-fuckk" tears streamed down your face as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers before wrapping his hand around your throat. He muffled your sobs, slipping his thumb between your lips, shoving it down your mouth till you drooled.
"You look so pretty when you cry kotenok, is it too much?" He taunted, squeezing your throat tighter, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at my arm princess, I always knew you were a needy little slut deep down You wanted this though, hm? Wanted my fat cock to ruin you till you wouldn't be able to walk?"
"I-oh god-fe-els good I-gonna cummm" You could barely formulate sentence, practically squealing when Bucky rolled over once again, this time tossing your legs over his shoulders, his hand snaking down to rub your swollen clit.
"Gonna cum, are you princess? Who do you belong to, say it, who fucks you this good?!"
"Y-You Bu-"
A harsh slap to your cheek made your pussy clench, Bucky's blue eyes dilated to rings, a feral expression his face as he smacked your face once more making you sob out of pleasure again.
"That's not whose fucking right now you is it?! Tell me, say it"
"YOU SOLDAT" You wailed as he continued to thrust into your puffy, overstimulated pussy, getting his teeth, grabbing onto the headboard as it slammed against the wall.
"That's right kotenok, you belong to him now" Bucky let his body weight fall onto you, bringing his knees up and pounding you deep against the bed, his own pace growing sloppy, balls pulling tighter towards his body. "Gonna give you all of his cum sweets, gonna fill this slutty desperate cunt with all of my cum, that's what you want isn't it? To be a little cum dump for the Winter Soldier?"
Bucky's mind went somewhere else, back to the first time he'd seen you, still as the Soldier, back when the team first discovered him. Back when his brain was fried but you had remined seared in his mind. Back when his mission was to finish you but some part deep down inside him wanted something else he didn't understand.
"God, where were you all those nights I had to touch myself alone, when I needed something warm and tight to cum in? huh? Bet you didn't know that huh princess? didn't know that the Soldier lusted after the pretty bunny that tried to take him down?"
Your eyes grew wide at his confession, pleasure desperate to snap within seconds.
"Did you know the winter soldier wanted to fuck you bunny? Did you know he'd jerk off when no one was watching? Had no idea what was going on Bunny, just remember my cock aching so bad, leaking so damn much. Nothing made it better until I touched myself. Didn't even know what I was doing, just fucked my fist while I thought about how pretty you looked in that tac suit, came all over my sheets like a little boy"
"I-fuck-Can-can I cum soldat?" You clung onto him, whimpering at the way you had to desperately hold back from gushing all over the sheets, his words too much, you couldn't take it any more.
"Go a head and cum princess, takoy khoroshiy kotonok" [such a good little kitten] He nipped up your neck, rubbing your clit faster, moaning with you as you started to cum around his cock. His movements didn't stop, fucking you through your high till your body jolted under him, the smell of sex heavy in the room.
"S-S'too much" You hiccupped while Bucky continued to fuck you like a man with no morals.
"Too much? It's too much for you kitten? Don't worry, gonna fill you up so good baby, where, where do you want to soldat to cum?!"
"Inside!" You cried out, locking your ankles around his waist, your slurred sob turned into a guttural moan when he pinched your clit between his fingers.
"Here it comes kotenok, got so much cum for you, it's gonna drip baby, get ready, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes- OH FUUCCKKK" Bucky roared against your neck before stilling, his cock throbbing and twitching, hot seeding feeling you up till it leaked. You were practically floating, too fucked out to realize He'd gently gotten off you and cradled you close.
"Are you okay pretty girl?" Bucky cooed, snapping back into the sweetheart that he was, the switch over leaving you reeling with your eyes still crossed. "My poor baby"
Bucky chuckled at your dazed expression, cuddling you up to his chest, caressing your sweat slicked skin.
"Come back to me princess" He pulled the covers up to warm you up in his arms, resting you carefully against the pillows. "My good girl, you did so good for me angel, m'so proud of you, so good"
You whimpered in response, curling up against him, your body still jolting and pulsing.
"Was it too much angel?" His brows furrowed with concern, cupping your cheek to look at him. He kissed away the now dry tear tracks that stained your face, his thumb swiping over your hot skin.
"Never" You rasped out, your voice raw from screaming, "Was perfect Soldat"
"You're perfect angel" Bucky grinned, stroking your spine while you continued to snuggle into him, his cock already twitching at the thought of another round. "My perfect little kotenok"
1K notes · View notes
inkdrinkerworld · 7 months
Note
hotch and reader who've had a fight so he's testy and short fused with the team all day till david/emily call you to tell you to come over to the bau and sort it out so he's not so difficult to work with
in hindsight, it was a stupid to be upset with each other over. you're both adults, so there's no way that between work and chores that you'd both see each other as much as a normal couple.
you and aaron were really just missing each other and couldn't get enough of each other to the point where you both came resentful at the ringing phones and being stolen away for work.
you weren't ready to let the fight be and neither was aaron. you just didn't know how bad he was taking it till your phone was pinging at work.
there's a million texts from his co-workers begging you to make up so he isn't so snappy and mean. even rossi texted.
with a sigh, you say, "i'm going for lunch," and grab your bag and head to the precinct.
when you get there, you see the chaos your husband has caused. there's more people than necessary in the bullpen, desks are crowded and people are walking around with hurried steps.
"what's going on?" you ask spencer as you spot him in the kitchenette.
"hotch is making everyone redo case reports, apparently it's not up to par." he's stirring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. "i think he just needs to feel busy so he doesn't mull over your falling out."
spencer had gotten like a brother over the years you and aaron had been together and he's a damn good profiler so you're not surprised him or anyone else is aware of your fight.
"i'll go talk to him," spencer pats your shoulder, a marker of good luck as you weave through bodies to get to your husband's office.
you knock and his gruff, 'come in' isn't the least bit shocking. fights with him can consume him because he feels it's all his fault and that if something bad is happening it's because of him.
"aaron?" you mumble, skin clammy as you step into the hot, dark office.
"y/n, what are you doing here?" not honey. so he's still pretty pissed off.
"david said you weren't having the best day ever, so i thought we'd better sort the fight out." you say plainly as you sit on the lip of his desk.
you watch aaron's eyebrows crease to meet each other and then smooth out a couple times. "you know it's not your fault that we don't see each other as much as we'd like to, don't you?" you ask and watch your husband's shoulders sag.
"it's not yours either," he says softly, ashamed that he had implied that to you when you'd suggested having a day with just you two. "work is just work."
you nod, your hands reaching for his chair and rolling it closer to you. "it's hard, we both work odd hours, and that's fine." you reassure him, hands lost in his glossy hair. "but we have days off to take, even if it's just one."
aaron nods, letting his forehead fall to your sternum with a sigh. "i'm not mad at you for having a job like this, one that you love. i'd never ask you to leave it either, we just need to get better at managing our time together." you whisper the words as you continue playing with his hair.
"i'd never ask you to leave your either. i'm sorry everything got so convoluted." he says and you smile, kissing the crown of his head.
"i'm sorry too, my love." aaron raises his head and presses his lips to your jaw. "though, i think you need to apologise to david and the rest of the team. they've got agents from every department in the bullpen."
aaron sighs, his arms wrapping around your waist. "let them be busy for a little while longer, haven't had quiet time with my wife in a little while."
2K notes · View notes
writersdrug · 1 month
Text
Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1
Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader
Pt. 2
Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.
Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)
Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!
ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk
translations at the end
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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.
That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.
Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.
He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.
An enchantress, König had concluded.
The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”
König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.
(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)
The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.
“What more can you offer me?” he asked.
The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”
König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…
He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?
He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?
The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”
A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.
König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”
He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.
König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.
After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.
On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.
It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.
In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…
Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.
It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.
A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.
He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.
He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.
He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.
More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.
The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.
He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.
The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.
The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.
It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.
Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.
It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-
Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-
He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.
Remember the warlock’s promise.
Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.
He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.
Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.
Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).
You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.
“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.
König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.
“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”
König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”
Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”
Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.
“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.
You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“
He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.
“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”
He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.
“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”
For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.
“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”
“Hunter?” you asked.
He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.
You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”
Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…
“I like to listen to the begging.”
“Begging?”
“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.
You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?
Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.
Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”
The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.
“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?
“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.
“It does to me.”
“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”
You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”
König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”
For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”
“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”
“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”
“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”
Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”
Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”
You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”
“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”
You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.
Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.
“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.
“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.
“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”
You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”
He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”
You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”
König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?
König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.
You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.
“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.
His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.
König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.
“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”
König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”
You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to -  asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”
König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.
“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.
He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”
You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.
“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”
You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”
König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.
You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.
He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.
He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?
“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”
You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.
By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.
As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.
But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.
Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.
You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.
He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.
How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?
“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“
König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.
“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –
This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.
You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.
Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.
Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.
His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-
A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.
He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-
You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…
He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.
He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”
... so good, so beautiful, just like that...
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jamil-s-wifey · 9 months
Note
If you're taking any scenario request. Maybe could I request funny/silly one where Leona and his S/O are married and live in the Royal Palace. Leona's S/O has gotten lost somehow in their own home and when found their response is "This place is too damn big I'm sorry!"
You have NO idea how much I love these types of fics! Wholesome crackheadedness at its finest✨ We love a spouse with 0 orientation skills. (I'd know, I get lost in supermarkets) This was ONE OF THE FUNNIEST THINGS I've EVER written. I hope you enjoy!
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"What the actual fuck."
A turn here. A turn there.
Oh, would you look at that - the exact same vase you passed 5 minutes ago. But was that really the same vase? Or was it its evil twin, trying to further confuse you, only for you to get lost even more and die of starvation, eventually BECOMING ONE WITH THE PALACE...
God, whoever built this palace should have their head on a stake. Haha, that sounded a lot like the Red Queen of Hearts. Perhaps Riddle was rubbing off on you. You two did text occasionally since graduating from NRC.
Speaking of graduation, you married Leona. (yay!) And it's not like you weren't happy. Life was relatively peaceful. You two moved back to the palace. Arrangements had begun for you two to take over a certain part of Sunset Savannah, as something akin to a *Peerage. (They had their own name for it, you are currently far too annoyed to remember.) A lot of (semi-forced) communication set the road to reconciliation between the two brothers. (Admittedly a very long road. A road that puts Gulliver's travels to shame.) The Royal Family™️ accepted you with open hearts. (albeit a tad wary at first)
Really there was only one major problem.
The ROYAL PALACE IS LIKE A GODDAMN LABYRINTH. And that's rich, given your history of painting the white roses with Ace and Deuce in Heartsabyul's maze. So here you are, lost.
Scratch that.
Lost: again.
And all you wanted to do was find Cheka's room. You had a gift for the little cub.
"An architectural masterpiece, my ass. This is an architectural disaster. A disaster with a capital D. D for Vitamin D - what I won't be getting, because I'm trapped within these walls, where the SUN CAN'T REACH ME-"
Okay. Calm down. It's not that bad, sure there isn't a soul in sight, but you're bound to stumble upon somebody at some point, right? There had to be servants, or guards, or somebody! UNLESS! This is all an elaborate plan to get rid of you.
Aha! That must be it. The Royal Family wants you dead and they intend to make it seem like an accident! But Leona wouldn't allow that, right? He loves you! Dearly! You're his spouse, his one and only! Ah, cruel fate.
Is it just you...or are these walls moving in on each other. So this IS an assassination attempt! And you presented yourself on a silver platter. Good job, s/o. Splendid work. A royal for a few months and you're already about to be assassinated. Your name shall remain the book of "Dumbest ways to die." Goodbye cruel world-
"S/o."
Leona's voice rang through the empty hallway, "What are you doing out here."
Ah! And so tragedy was avoided once more!
"Leona, my LOVE! Thank God."
"Did you just- get lost in the palace... again?", his eyes read annoyance but his tone was teasing.
"It's not MY fault this place is so damn big, what do you need all this space for anyways? Indoor badminton? Hide and Seek or Die?"
"Definitely that last one. That's how we get rid of our enemies."
"AHA! I knew it! So this IS an assassination attempt!"
He simply rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him to wrap an arm around your waist and kiss you on the forehead.
"This isn't an assassination attempt. You did this yourself. It's called idiocy."
"You should build a better palace."
"What I should do is put a collar on you. With a tracking device on it. Like a pet."
"Oh, Leona~ Who knew you were into that~"
"Next time I'm leaving you here to rot."
"Then I'll haunt you to Hell and back."
He smirked, pinching your cheek as you were both making your way far from the cursed looping corridor.
"At least you won't be able to get lost."
"I told you, it's not my fault."
"Nah, of course not. The Palace is just cursed."
"EVIDENTLY."
You both knew this isn't the last time you'll be getting lost. And Leona was seriously considering the tracking device.
Perhaps he'd already ordered it too.
You were about to find out.
*Peerage - collective noun for titles like Duke, Duchess, Count, Earl etc. Comes from "Peers of the Realm" where one could hold one or more of these titles. It differs from monarchy to monarchy. THAT'S YOUR WORD FOR THE DAY FOLKS!
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phantomrose96 · 2 months
Note
Hey not to go all "tumblr is a professional networking site" on you, but how did you get to work for Microsoft??? I'm a recent grad and I'm being eviscerated out here trying to apply for industry jobs & your liveblogging about your job sounds so much less evil than Data Entry IT Job #43461
This place is basically LinkedIn to me.
I'm gonna start by saying I am so so very sorry you're a recent grad in the year 2024... Tech job market is complete ass right now and it is not just you. I started fulltime in 2018, and for 2018-2022 it was completely normal to see a yearly outflow of people hopping to new jobs and a yearly inflow of new hires. Then sometime around late-spring/early-summer of 2022 Wallstreet sneezed the word "recession" and every tech company simultaneously shit themselves.
Tons of layoffs happened, meaning you're competing not just with new grads but with thousands of experienced workers who got shafted by their company. My org squeaked by with a small amount of layoffs (3 people among ~100), but it also means we have not hired anyone new since mid-2022. And where I used to see maybe 4-8 people yearly leave in order to hop to a new job, I think I've seen 1 person do that in the whole last year and a half.
All this to say it's rough and I can't just say "send applications and believe in yourself :)".
I have done interviews though. (I'm not involved in resume screening though, just the interviews of candidates who made it past the screening phase.) So I have at least some relevant advice, as well as second-hand knowledge from other people I know who've had to hop jobs or get hired recently.
If you have friends already in industry who you feel comfortable asking, reach out to them. Most companies have a recommendation process where a current employee fills out a little form that says "yeah I'd recommend such-and-such for this job." These do seem to carry weight, since it's coming from a trusted internal person and isn't just one of the hundreds of cold-call applications they've received.
A lot of tech companies--whether for truly well-intentioned reasons or to just check a checkbox--are on the lookout for increasing employee diversity. If you happen to have anything like, for example, "member of my college Latino society", it's worth including on your resume among your technical skills and technical projects.
I would add "you're probably gonna have to send a lot of applications" as a bullet point but I'm sure you're already doing that. But here it is as a bullet point anyway.
(This is kind of a guess, since it's part of the resume screening) but if you can dedicate some time to getting at least passingly familiar with popular tech/stacks for the positions you're looking into, try doing that in your free time so you can list it on your resume. Even better if you make a project you can point to. Like if you're aiming for webdev, get familiar with React and probably NodeJS. On top of being comfortable in one of the all-purpose languages like C(++) or Java or Python.
If you get to the interview phase - a company that is good to work for WILL care that you're someone who's good to work with. A tech-genius who's a coworker-hating egotistical snob is a nuisance at best and a liability at worst for companies with even a half-decent culture. When I do interviews, "Is this someone who's a good culture fit?" is as important as the technical skills. You'll want to show you'll be a perfectly pleasant, helpful, collaborative coworker. If the company DOESN'T care about that... bullet dodged.
For the technical questions, I care more about the thought process than I do the right answer, especially for entry-level. If you show a capacity for asking good, insightful clarifying questions, an ability to break down the problem, explain your thought process, and backtrack&alter your approach upon realizing something won't work, that's all more important than just being able to spit out a memorized leetcode answer. (I kinda hate leetcode for this reason, and therefore I only ask homebrewed questions, because I don't want the technical portion to hinge at all on whether someone managed to memorize the first 47 pages of leetcode problems). For a new hire, the most important impression you can give me is that you have a technical grasp and that you're capable of learning. Because a new hire isn't going to be an expert in anything, but they're someone who's capable of learning the ropes.
That's everything I have off the top of my head. Good luck anon. I'm very sorry you were born during a specific range of years that made you a new grad in 2024 and I hope it gets better.
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golden-cherry · 7 months
Text
deal - cl16 (17/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: That's definitely not the goodbye you wanted.
Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words
Word Count: 3.3k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: sorry for this shitty chapter and sorry for keeping you waiting! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
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It's not long before Charles falls asleep next to you. 
You hear his soft breathing, the way the bedspread rustles as he slides his arm under the pillow and bends his right knee. Apparently he's lying on his stomach, snuggled tightly in the warmth of the bed you'll share for the second and last time. 
That Charles has grown so close to your heart in exactly three days is something you would never have thought was possible in your life.
After Raphael cheated on you and your friends let you down, you vowed to take better care of yourself and your heart and never let anyone into your life so easily again. You resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next time alone until you could put your trust in someone again. And that had been perfectly fine with you, as long as it had kept further pain at bay.  
But the brunette Monegasque, without making any particular effort, has walked into your life as if God personally had opened the gates for him, and has taken up residence with you as if he were a virus that is taking you over completely. 
You turn away from him, but you can still feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of fabric that lie between you. 
The fact that he will spend the next few days in Italy is a good start to building the wall that will keep your heart from great harm. It will create some distance between you, buy you more time in which to figure out your feelings. And if it really comes down to you feeling more than simple friendship for your roommate, you'll still have plenty of time to think of some way to handle the situation. 
You're about to press your face into your pillow so it can stop the whirlwind of thoughts in your head when your cell phone lights up. 
Lando: Did you know that the Eiffel Tower is about six inches taller in the summer than in the winter?
Confused, but grinning, you glance at the screen. It's the middle of the night - why is he sending you such a strange message at this late hour?
You cast a glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles is actually asleep before releasing the key lock, lowering your phone's brightness to its lowest setting, and starting to type. 
You: Didn't know that. Why is that?
The "seen" with the little checkmark appears directly under your sent message, and a few moments later the typical three dots that appear when a reply is composed flash. 
Lando: Due to thermal expansion, meaning the iron heats up, the particles gain kinetic energy and take up more space.
You have to smile, even suppress a giggle. 
You: You googled that for sure. 
Lando: You got me. I didn't know the best way to start a conversation. 
You: I'd say the middle of the night is generally not a good time to start a conversation. What if I had already been asleep?
Lando: Then you would have woken up confused for sure and blocked me right after the message. 
You: Then you're lucky I'm still awake. 
Lando: I'm definitely lucky. 
Behind you, Charles moves a little, but doesn't seem to wake up. You feel him scoot a tiny bit closer to you, as if he realizes you're still awake. 
Lando: Have you ever been to Paris?
You: Unfortunately not. I'd like to go there sometime, though. And you?
Lando: I've been there before. Maybe we can go there together? Then I can show you the most beautiful places. 
You have to grin. Straightforward guy he is. 
You: Do you really think I would just travel to Paris with a semi stranger?
Lando: You're right about that. But that can easily be changed. You and me, tomorrow, dinner at 8?
You feel Charles rest his hand on your bedspread. It's like he subconsciously realizes you're about to go out with one of his friends. He exhales deeply, but doesn't move any further. 
You: That was very smooth, Mr. Norris. 
Lando: So is that a yes?
Without giving it much thought, you answer the Brit with a "Yes, I'd love to," whereupon he responds with a "Great. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Don't stay up too late and sleep well" back. You press the key lock on your phone and put it back next to your pillow. 
Time you do have. Charles isn't around, and you don't have a job to go to every day, so your days are as free as the beach in winter. And for sure it will do you good to spend time with someone other than the Monegasque. Lando is nice and friendly and funny. And since the two of you don't live together, and the level at which you're getting to know each other is much more superficial than the one Charles and you are on right now, you shouldn't be in danger of taking him to your heart as quickly as your roommate.
Who by now has moved so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. It's steady, coming in waves and brushing your skin like a warm summer breeze. For sure he is sleeping well, maybe even having a nice dream. He doesn't even know yet that it's the last time he'll sleep next to you.
You close your eyes, almost press your eyelids together and force yourself to fall asleep. With the ulterior motive that the person who is dearest to you right now is exactly the one with whom you will soon have to keep the most distance.
-
Something rustles. 
The sound is close, but not so close that it could find its origin right next to your ear. It also sounds muffled, as if there is a thick piece of soft cotton between the sound and your eardrum, so you can't really hear what exactly is making that sound. 
You press your face a little deeper into the pillow. 
The rustling becomes louder. 
Tired and with your eyes closed, you pull the blanket higher to your chin to cling to sleep. And for a brief moment it works, your mind slips back into a gentle slumber - until you hear a loud, unmistakable rumble. 
Annoyed and above all confused, you open your eyes. Your cell phone reads 6:15 a.m. Who's making that kind of noise at this hour?
You sit up abruptly, as if you've been electrocuted, and the covers fall into your lap. Charles.
For sure he is packing up the last things before he wants to wake you up. To say goodbye to you. You're surprised you didn't hear his alarm clock. For sure he only rang it once briefly before your roommate turned it off so it wouldn't wake you up. Very kind and considerate. 
You swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into fuzzy socks so your feet don't freeze. As you tie your hair so it doesn't look like you've touched an electrical socket, you hear keys jingle. 
Charles wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you, would he?
Hesitantly, you go to the door of the room and open it slowly to make sure he's still there. And indeed, he hasn't left the apartment yet. 
But he has shouldered his travel bag, his feet are in shoes, and the apartment door is open, as if he is about to take the first step out. When he hears you, he turns around. 
Confused and still slightly sleepy, you stand in the doorway. You point your finger at the large bag. "Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" you ask him, rubbing the heels of your hands over your eyes. Damn, it's definitely too early to be awake. 
Your roommate steps unsteadily from one foot to the other. "I didn't mean to wake you." In his free hand, he holds his key. 
You screw up your face. "But you wanted to say goodbye." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "You said you'd set an alarm so you could get up on time and we could say goodbye properly."
The situation is strange. You're standing in the doorway to the room where Charles shared a bed with you, as he stands on the threshold that separates this apartment from the rest of the world. It feels like he's trying to escape from what's happening inside these four walls. Like he can't wait to leave and leave you here. 
He doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. 
"I know, but-" he begins, but doesn't seem to know how to finish the sentence, which is why he just falls silent. His gaze wanders from your face to the room behind you before he lowers it to his shoes. He swallows once before looking at you again. "Can we talk about this another time?" he asks quietly. "I have to go."
What happened in the last few hours you were asleep? Did you do something to make him want to run away from here? To want to flee from you? The way he's standing there, he seems like he can't wait to finally leave the apartment. As if he had to quickly put as many kilometers as possible between you. 
The fact that he doesn't want to talk to you about it unsettles you more than you'd like to admit.
When you were with Raphael, there were many arguments, after which you both went to bed without clearing up the situation or talking things out. That oppressive, stomach-churning feeling was so devastating and caused such nausea in you that you told yourself that you will never again let an argument or difficult situation just stand.
You don't want to go to bed angry. And you don't want anyone to go to bed angry and mad at you either. 
"Did I do something?" you ask, letting your arms, which were crossed just a moment ago, fall to your sides. As a sign that you're ready to face whatever may follow. "Talk to me, please, Charles."
Of course, neither of you would go to sleep now. But the very thought that you won't see each other again for another four days, and thus parting, leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Which you naturally want to get rid of as quickly as possible. 
Demonstratively, he glances at his wristwatch. "I don't have time. Let's talk about it another time."
"It's 6:25. I thought you didn't have to leave until 7?"
He clenches his teeth. "I want to drive now." He's visibly tense, his hand almost tightening around the key. Charles doesn't want to drive. He wants to run. From you. And you don't know why. 
Somewhere inside you, a small crack is opening up, uncomfortable, pressing on the pit of your stomach. Your discomfort worsens with each passing moment. 
"What have I done?" you try again to get him to talk. You cross the room until you're standing in front of him. "Whatever it was - I'm sorry. I don't know what it is that I could have done that upset you so much. But I don't want you to leave now and be mad at me when we won't see each other again for another four days. Let's talk about it. Please."
It's almost pathetic how desperate you sound. Your voice trembles like it's going to break at any moment, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes. You try to blink them away. 
There have been countless situations like this with Raphael. It was always you who wanted to solve an argument. The one who tried harder. Who sacrificed more. And it has brought nothing. 
Even though you two have only known each other for a few days, this argument is much worse. Because you don't know what you have done, and therefore you can't change anything. You can't find a solution here. 
Charles doesn't seem to care that you are on the verge of crying. His gaze is hard and cold as he looks down at you. He looks at you as if you were a stranger just standing in his apartment.
As you reach out to him, he takes the last step over the threshold. The small crack inside you grows larger, now seems to have reached your heart, forming a great chasm. The wall that has been built so far has been of no use. It is completely useless. 
"If you really want to talk to someone, why don't you talk to Lando?" His tone is icy and his gaze sprays venom. 
Lando?
Charles seems to have picked up on your confused look. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes, which stings you further. "Now don't act like that. He texted me in the middle of the night asking what culinary cuisine you prefer for your dinner tonight." He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd already had an extensive conversation about it. What was it again? Canned soup and BigMac?"
Your discomfort gives way to an even more rotten feeling. Anger spreads through you like a wildfire you can't stop it. How dare he?
"What are you trying to say?" you ask calmly, even though everything is burning inside you. Charles interfering in this matter when he has no right to do so makes your anger spill over, but you know better than to take it out on him directly. You pull yourself together. Even though you'd like to strangle him, you don't want you two to fight. 
"Come on, Y/N." His smile is spiteful and ugly - even though he's the most beautiful man on the planet. "We both know he's just trying to fuck you. So what's the point of dinner? It's just a waste of money."
Excuse me?
"What do you mean?"
He seems to think for a moment, as if he were struggling with himself to say the next words. "After all, what Raphael did to you doesn't seem to bother you much if you're going to date someone new right away. And you said yourself yesterday that you weren't going to meet anyone on this couch." He extends his free arm and waves it in a semicircle in front of him. "Let's do it, then. Monaco is full of rich men. Then you don't exactly have to hook up with one who's my friend."
Never in your entire life have you wanted to smack someone so badly as Charles at this moment. 
He knows what Raphael did to you. And he also knows why your ex cheated on you. The fact that he now assumes that you would just jump into bed with Lando like that upsets you so much that you're at a loss for words. 
You don't recognize him. The Charles who lets you stay with him for free, who makes you laugh, and who is so close to you at times that you have to consider how to protect your heart, has dropped off the face of the earth. 
Opposite you is a mean and ruthless man you can't get away from fast enough. His words hit you harder than any blow could, and the tears in your eyes no longer originate in discomfort, but in pure rage. 
You don't care what you did to make him act this way. You don't care what exactly happened between you that caused this argument to degenerate like this. And you don't care if you go to bed tonight mad at him. 
This argument is different than the one over his phone call with Raphael or the one at dinner with his friends. It's too close, too personal, and for Charles to think of you that way, after everything you've told him about yourself, chokes your throat and makes your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 
"You can have the apartment," you say emotionlessly. Your fire is extinguished, your anger is suffocated. The only thing left is a dull feeling of grief. 
How could you think Charles would be any different? That he would actually be a friend to you? You even showed him your favorite place. That wasn't even twelve hours ago. 
"When you come back, I'll be gone." Your gaze is fixed on Charles, letting him know how serious you are. Something flashes in his eyes, but whatever it is - you don't care. "I hate you."
Without waiting for an answer, you close the apartment door. As you turn around, you feel like an intruder in your own home. 
Which, theoretically, isn't even your home. It's Charles' home, it's his apartment. He's just been nice and let you stay with him. And he didn't do that because he saw a friend in you, but because he felt sorry for you, as you must now realize. 
Did this "good deed" make him feel better? Did he let you stay here to prove to himself what a good guy he is after everything with Annika? Is he really that selfish? 
Who exactly is Charles Leclerc?
You would like to leave the apartment immediately, because there is nothing that doesn't make you remember Charles. The couch reminds you of the evening when you drank wine and watched Cars. The kitchen table is where you eat pain au chocolat and croissants. The bathroom is where you grin at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Charles is everywhere. 
He's especially in the dark bedroom, too, when you return to lie down in bed. His sheets are still where you found them when you woke up, and his smell is all over the room, making it hard for you to breathe. 
Pulling your own blanket up to your chin, you lie there staring at the ceiling, racking your brain as to where exactly you took a wrong turn. But for the life of you, you can't think of anything. 
You turn on your side and take a deep breath. Charles' smell hits your nose and only now, surrounded by darkness and silence, do you allow yourself to cry. Tears roll down your skin and one sob after another escapes your sore throat, which feels as if it has been laced shut. Your body shakes like it's electrified and somewhere inside you think your heart has stopped beating. 
The person you trusted the most has let you down. Your closest friend has dropped you without explaining himself to you. 
But that's not what hurts so indescribably. 
It hurts so much because it's Charles. The Charles you saw as your best friend after only a few days. The Charles who didn't judge you. 
You slide to the other side of the bed and slip under Charles' covers so that you are now completely enveloped in his smell. You feel so close to him, even though he's so far away, and even though the warmth feels like a hug, you feel lonely. You cling to that hug that isn't a hug, because that's the closest thing you have left of him. 
Tomorrow you would look for another apartment, maybe even move away from Monaco. And then you would pack your things and leave, just like you promised Charles. And you wouldn't break that promise - that deal, the way he broke his. 
Not long ago, you didn't want to share the bed with him anymore, braced yourself for it to be the last time you'd be this close. You wanted to build the wall that would protect, should protect your heart. 
But it's no use building a wall when your heart hasn't been yours for a while.
next part
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blueclownsworld · 2 months
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"They're mine." — Diluc (Genshin Impact) x gender neutral reader
Diluc swears he isn't jealous. There's no reason to be, considering nothing's going on between the two of you. You just work at the same tavern, occasionally talking to each other during quiet hours. That's all, so why was he feeling like this?
You were serving beer to a group of men, most of them half-drunk already. You didn't really mind their flirty comments, considering they were just some sweet compliments regarding your looks.
Someone else did mind though. Diluc's eyes were like glued to you as you talked with the men. He wasn't jealous, no, how could he? But for some reason he felt fire burning inside of him, fire that wanted to burn those men. But he wasn't jealous.
"They want another round, sir." your polite tone snapped him out of his thoughts.
"I'll serve them, take my spot for a moment", Diluc replied with low voice, strange flame burning in his eyes as he looked at the table of men.
"You sure, sir? It's usually my job to serve customers", you asked for confirmation, something about him was off.
"I am sure, just let me take care of it", Diluc insisted and walked away before you could say anything further.
'What was different about him today?' you thought to yourself.
"I can see that you're very eager to flirt", Diluc started with almost threatening tone as he reached the table of men. "I'd prefer if you didn't flirt with them though, considering they're mine."
Was it his words or the flaming eyes that made the whole table silent? All of the men went quiet, and moment later Diluc left the table with relieved expression.
Fortunately or unfortunately, you hadn't heard the conversation as you were busy serving new customers. However, when Diluc came back, you could tell that something about him was different. As if a weight had lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe freely. No matter the reason, you were glad to see him feeling better.
"I'm closing early tonight. You can leave or stay around", Diluc said some time later. It was an invitation for you to stay with him, but you could have also went home if you wanted to.
"I think I'll stay around. No plans for tonight", you replied with more casual tone, dropping the 'sir' title as it wasn't work hours anymore.
"The same. Want to kill some time together?" Diluc asked, seeming to have some sort of idea in his mind. You agreed, not knowing where it would lead to.
Your body pinned against the tavern wall, Diluc's muscular chest pressing against yours as his lips were claiming you as his. The kisses started from your face, trailing down to your neck.
"Mine", Diluc spoke with low voice, his breath feeling hot on your neck. "I'm the only one allowed to flirt with you, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir", you answered with shy voice as he was making you feel butterflies in your stomach.
"Sir?" Diluc's eyebrows raised at the title. "We're not working currently, are we?"
"No- sorry. What should I call you?" you asked curiously.
"Anything but sir is fine", Diluc answered and continued with more teasing tone "How about 'love'?"
Your eyes widened at the suggestion, it was a bit early for such a name. But, you liked the sound of it.
"Love.." you said the word slowly, considering it. "Hm, I like it. Do you have a nickname for me as well, love?"
Diluc smiled warmly at your words, he felt like his heart was about to burst out of joy. "I have, my darling. Multiple even."
"May I hear them?" you had to ask.
"You'll hear them soon enough, lovely. First I need to make sure others won't think that you're available", he muttered in your ear before continuing the trail of kisses on your neck, these ones would definitely leave marks.
~
Author's note: was feeling silly today- also taking requests
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Note
Emily's shoulder Charlie: "There is still good in Sera. Her intentions have been horridly corrupted, but they once came from a desire to protect and preserve. We can help her see the truth and return to goodness!"
Emily's shoulder Vaggie: "PUNCH HER IN HER STUCK-UP ANGEL FACE!"
XD chaggie down in hell having a rest after the drama, meanwhile EMILY-
Emily: "I'm not sure the face punching idea would even work. Sera's too tall..."
Shoulder Vaggie: "Trust me, she's sunk low enough for you to reach."
Shoulder Charlie: "Which MEANS she's ALSO in the perfect position for HUGS!!!"
Emily: "I don't even know how to throw a punch."
Shoulder Charlie: "And that's fine!!"
Shoulder Vaggie: "No problem. Just think about that that time you found out souls were being permanently wiped from existence once a year in the name of protecting heaven bc Sera was scared people might not actually like being damned and tortured for all eternity and figured just letting Adam murder them was the best way to keep sinners away from the pearly gates. Not that you needed to know any of that, though. It was fine if you sat happily up on your cloud, far above the mountain of dead bodies piled up to keep it safe."
Shoulder Charlie: "....We could punch her a little, maybe."
Emily: "Charlie!"
Shoulder Charlie: "I'm sorry! You think Vaggie's making a REALY good point, is the thing!"
Emily: "Why do my hands suddenly hurt-?"
Shoulder Vaggie: "It's called clenching your fists. You're making a fist with your hands for the first time ever. Good job. Don't tuck your thumb though."
Emily: (untucks thumb) "I still can't just punch Sera. It wouldn't make anything better!"
Shoulder Charlie: "We could call it a, uh, direct demonstration of our opinions on the matter. Or a lived example of why violence is bad!"
Emily: "You're not supposed to be arguing for punching!"
Shoulder Charlie: "I said I'm sorry! But the only time you met me, the real me, I spent the end of the day burning with rage and yelling at people about it! And it's my girlfriend you've got advocating for the face punching- I can't help that you think I'd be kinda down for it!!"
Shoulder Vaggie: "The whole dating me thing is a pretty big clue she's at least not turn off by violence, if it's for helping people instead of, y'know. Murder."
Emily: "Vaggie- help me. The real you was more quiet and cautious-"
Shoulder Vaggie: "Probably because of the blackmail."
Emily: "-you, you tried telling Charlie to keep a cool head! Tell me that too!"
Shoulder Vaggie: "Remember that thing where it turns out real me used to be an exorcist, used to do that murder stuff? And got left behind in hell? Probably for the whole not liking the murder thing?"
Emily: "I was trying not to remember that..."
Shoulder Vaggie: "You're not a princess of hell or a lowly ex-exorcist. You're a seraphim. You could punch Sera and get away with it."
Emily: "Ugh.."
Shoulder Charlie: "But only a LITTLE punch, okay? Gently. Gently punch."
Shoulder Vaggie: "That's not how it works babe but sweeet thought."
Emily: (SIGHS) (stops arguing internally with herself)
Sera: "....."
Sera: "Are you alright, Emily."
Emily: (despondent) "I'm fine, Sera."
Sera: "You seem a bit, droopy. I haven't even had proper glimpse of your face all day."
Emily: "Sorry. I just can't look at you right now."
Sera: (devastated) "...oh."
Sera: (rallying) "Well it will pass in time, I'm sure. Once you understand things better."
Emily: (hiding fists in skirts) (urge to punch) (RISING) "SuRE."
Emily: "..."
Emily: "Oh you know what? We haven't talked about Sir Pentious today!"
Sera: "Haven't we."
Emily: "We haven't, actually!" (smugly smooths out skirts) "He's settling in here nicely, isn't he? Isn't it wonderful having a new angel in heaven? Seeing him around, so amazed at everything- being so sweet and kind as he finds his way around after dying to protect his friends- Isn't it such an extra blessing, that he made it here aaaaallllll the way from hell? Aren't we lucky Charlie and Vaggie's hotel for reforming sinners is a thing? And is STILL a thing, even after Adam and Lute tried killing them all? On our orders? Which- thank heaven!- didn't work?"
Sera: (eye twitch) (eye twitch) "Indeed."
Emily: "I'm sure they'd be SO happy to see how well Sir Pentious is doing." (beaming) "We should invite them back sometime!"
Sera: (Glowering) "....."
Emily: "See I knew you'd agree Sera. You're overprotective- but that doesn't make you vindictive and petty, right? Right. You're not like Adam, may he rest in peace- Now, about setting something up to help the transition go more smoothly, the next time a sinner earns their place in heaven..."
-down in hell-
Vaggie: "You've got a great frown line going on, sweetie. What's up?"
Charlie: "Oh it's silly, but...
Charlie: "...Is Emily going to be okay up in heaven, do you think? After finding out about. Y'know."
Vaggie: "If she's anything like you? No."
Charlie: (whimpers) (frown x2)
Vaggie: "But if she's half as brilliant as you are, then she'll figure something out."
Charlie: "If she's so much like me, then she's also a Charlie without her Vaggie. That's not much of a Charlie."
Vaggie: "You did fine in Cannibal Town alone, babe."
Charlie: "Only AFTER thinking about you!"
Vaggie: "Well- uhh-" (tries not to smile) (smiles a lot) "Sir Pentious is up there? He counts for something."
Charlie & Vaggie: (stare up at heaven)
Charlie: "....think he's already blown up the pearly gates?"
Vaggie: "If his Egg Boiz haven't shown up there yet? Yeah. Probably."
-pearly gates-
Sir Pentious: (clinging to the wreckage of the gates) "THEY ARE VERY SSSSIMPLE BOIZ! THEY MIGHT NOT REMMBER HOW TO KNOCK OR CONSSTRUCT AND EXSSSSPLOSSIVE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO GET THEM PASSSSSST IT!"
Sera: "That is why we have Peter keeping WATCH on the gates! We do NOT detonate the gates of heaven with several tons of TNT- singeing Peter's wings in process!"
St. Peter: (coughs smoke) "Ow~"
Sir Pentious: "BUT THEY ARE SSSSSMALL! WHAT IF THEY GET OVERLOOKED? MY BOIZSS!!"
Emily: "We could just leave the gates open-"
Sera: "NO!"
Emily: (leaning in to pentious) (whispering) "I'll leave the gates open an Egg Boi sized gap okay? Don't worry."
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suugarbabe · 9 months
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Heyy! I was wondering if you could write mattheo riddle x reader with prompts 49 and or 33 please? Fluff xx thanks xx 💗
(33) I can't believe I've never seen this side of you before
(49) I never knew that about you. It's cute
Today fucking sucked. There was no better way to put it. You needed a break from everything, from everyone, just needed to get away and be by yourself. That's how you found yourself on the dock of the black lake, just looking out into the water. You were leaning against one of the pillars, likely hidden from anyone's view that walked by, which was exactly what you wanted. So when you heard footsteps on the dock you froze, pressing your back further into the pillar, just wanting to disappear. You seemed to be doing a good job as you watched Mattheo go up to the edge of the dock, sitting down with his legs crossed to grab what looked like a muggle pencil and sketchbook out of his bag. Your curiosity was peaked at this point and you couldn't stop your mouth as the words came tumbling out, "What are you doing?" Mattheo nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping his head around at the direction of your voice, "Merlin's fucking beard, y/n. When the hell did you get here?" You stood, walking over to him before sitting back down next to him, "I've been here for nearly an hour. Now, tell me what you're doing?" If Mattheo was good at anything, it was avoiding answering questions he didn't want to, "What are you doing? You're just sitting here doing nothing by yourself?" You rolled your eyes, "I had a bad day okay, I come out here to be by myself when I don't want to verbally assault anyone." He smirked at this, "I'd love to see you do that actually, you wanna head back now?" He jutted his thumb over his shoulder back towards the castle. You scoffed, pushing his shoulder, "Okay, Riddle. What are you really doing out here? Why do you have muggle shit with you? That's not like you." He got a little sheepish now, "Oh this stuff, it's nothing. I just come out here to..." he mumbled the end of his sentence, so low you couldn't even make out what he said. "M'sorry, what was that?" you leaned in a little closer, cupping your ear dramatically. He dropped his shoulders, looking up towards the sky like the drama king he was, "I...draw. The muggle way...no magic just like...sketch and stuff." He cheeks were turning more and more pink the longer he spoke, but you had nothing smart to say back to him. You actually kind of admired his secret hobby. "I never knew that about you...it's cute." Your comment had his eyes on yours, "Really?" You nodded, "Really, do you have anything you've done in there? I'd love to see them." You would think he was a kid being told he could buy all the sweets he wanted from Honeydukes the way his eyes lit up, quickly flipping through his sketch pad to pick his favorites to show you. He really was good too, catching all the right details of a Grindylow down to the mischief in it's eyes you've seen as they swim past the windows in the common room. He attention to detail was immaculate. If he charmed it just right, you could swear the Thestral he drew was just a shrunken version of the real thing. You weren't able to see them with your own eyes, but you knew what it was from textbooks. You heart ached slightly from the realization that Mattheo was probably able to see them from a very young age, given his family history. Again you found your mouth unable to keep the words from tumbling out as you spoke, "I can't believe I've never seen this side of you before." Mattheo chucked at this, "Yeah, well I don't exactly go around advertising I'm a sensitive ninny who plays with muggle shit." You shrugged, "I like this version of Mattheo Riddle. You don't always have to have such a stern face and flying fists." You mocked his usual face that he displayed, playfully punching his arm. He smiled shyly, "Well, thank you...I guess. I'm sorry you had a shit day today, though Y/n, truly. Maybe next time it happens you come grab me? We can come back here? I won't make you talk about it, but I'll just draw and you can sit like you were before, but that way neither of us have to be alone." You don't think you had ever agreed to something so quickly.
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atinysunbaby · 4 months
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@ateezluvv asked :
heyyy...could you please make ateez having crush on you? aaaand you are songwriter at KQ too....thank uuuuuu
Thank you for asking! I hope you'll like it even though I didn't make it the exact way you wanted and it took me an eternity to write, really sorry about that. :(. I wrote a different job for each member, because I felt it might be more entertaining that way. <3
⌛Ateez Hyung line having a crush on you⌛
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💖Park Seonghwa💖
"Park Seonghwa." You call your next patient's name, standing while holding the door separating the offices and the waiting room. You analyze his every actions and movements, like the boy's eyes widening slightly at the sound of your voice, the pathetic non subtle attempt at taking a shaky breath in hopes to slow his sudden rapid heartbeat, his hands and legs trembling as he stands up and the corner of his lips he can't seem to control that are starting to form a smile.
"Hello Dr. L/N!" You nod with a smile and gesture for him to follow as usual, scoffing under your breath in amusement, the excitement you could hear in those 3 words and the higher tone of voice he used, added to his reddening cheeks and averting eyes, this man really can't keep his emotions from showing.
You position yourself at the entrance of your office, gesturing for Seonghwa to enter. "Please take a seat and we'll get started."
The boy obeys immediately, maybe a bit too fast in your perspective, but letting this slide as well, you sit behind your desk and proceed to ask him a few personal questions. "So tell me Mr. Park, what is the reason of your urgency?"
"My what?" He asks, his voice almost a whisper and wearing a confused expression, waiting for your possible explanation. "Yes, you called my secretary and asked to get the closest appointment disponible.. or was that not the case?"
"No- I mean yes.. It's because of headaches, I get them everyday and I can't focus on practice anymore when it gets to intense." He lets out frustrated, clearly it has been affecting him for a while. "Any other symptoms?"
"Umm- no, I don't think so." You nod and type a few informations in your computer. While being occupied, you can still see the way the boy bounces his legs in nervousness and the way he can't seem to loosen up. "Are you sleeping enough, eating well, hydrating?"
"Well, sometimes?" At that, you give him back your full attention, concerned about his wellbeing. "Sometimes? What is sometimes? How many hours of sleep do you generally get, do you eat all of your meals and what kind of food, how many glass of water per day?"
"I'd say.. 4 hours per nights, sometimes more or less. I drink whenever I can, which I believe is not enough and every time I eat I feel sick, so I eat one meal, sometimes 2 and it's mostly ordered." You know he's an idol and you came to the conclusion that he was working really hard and it must be complicated, but you had no idea it was that bad. "Alright, you'll have to get a blood test and when I'll receive the results I will immediately send you a prescription for the supplements you need. I believe you are malnourished and you lack a whole lot of sleep."
He nods and sighs, feeling a bit helpless at his situation, it's almost impossible to stay completely healthy when there's a comeback and on top of that the group received death treats.
"You must know this already but, you really need to eat all of your meals and try to eat healthily, you need to sleep to regenerate your body and drink more water in order to function better. You might only be experiencing headaches now, but if this keeps on going at long term, there could be a lot of negative repercussions."
"I will, thanks miss!" He says with a blush coating his cheeks, slowly coming to realisation of the word he used. "You don't have to call me miss you know? Y/N will be just fine, if that's alright with you of course."
"No no no- I mean yes of course! It's totally fine- sorry.." He abruptly shuts his mouth because of the amused look you give him, never having felt more embarrassed in his life. "No worries Seonghwa, just make sure to keep this a secret between the two of us, I'm not supposed to get so 'friendly' with a patient and my colleagues wouldn't appreciate that I'm being so unprofessional."
All you receive is a flustered nod from the other and the sight infront of you is priceless. Seonghwa looks breathless and his whole face, neck and ears seems to have turned red, his lips are restrained by his teeth and it looks like they are about to rip from the pressure, in short, the boy looks like he is about to burst. "Seonghwa."
"Mmh?" He looks at you dumbly, as if his brain had just stopped working and he turned stupid. You scoff in disbelief, but mostly because you find him adorable for behaving like you are some kind of goddess. "You can breathe sweetheart."
And with that his whole chest deflates, as he lets out the breath he was holding.
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💙Kim Hongjoong💙
Being a teacher always has been your dream job, and for the last few months that dream became a reality, but you wonder now if you might have made a mistake.
Everything that comes with teaching, other than educating people on your favorite subject, is actual crap. Even though you have considered unimaginable scenarios while trying to prepare yourself to this world, it is nothing like what you imagined.
You wanted to quit after weeks of feeling absolutely miserable, but something-no, someone held you back. Hongjoong. That cute boy in one of your class who always pays attention and participates as much as humanly possible.
While the others always treat you like shit, being disrespectful and making disgusting comments that affect you more than you thought they would, Hongjoong stands up for you. He shuts them up real quick which you think is really sweet, but he's your student and it can be nothing more than that. Your delusional self will need to forget about that perfect man and move on.
"Alright guys remember about what we covered for the last two weeks, most of it will be in the exam. Have a good day!" Your students, although disrespectful most of time, salute you on their way out when they feel like being polite, which in your opinion is somewhat even worst. Because you know they know that they make you feel worthless, but they only care about themselves and their image.
"Excuse me miss?" There it is again, that smooth, angelic, soothing and irresistible voice calling for you. Trying to calm the untamable beating of your heart and put on the mask of a teacher who's totally not head over heals for her student, you answer the boy with a charming but neutral nevertheless tone of voice. "Yes Hongjoong what is it?"
"Could I speak to you for a second.. like privately?" He adds the last two words in reason of the numerous students walking around the corridor, you also don't fail to notice him looking quite uncomfortable and proceed to leave the door ajar, to not cause any misunderstanding..
"I just have a certain, uhh.. I need to tell you.. something." He fidgets endlessly which makes you even more nervous, but you remain calm as your 'student' needs you. "Of course what is it, you can tell me anything."
"I.. just kind of like you, like a lot." He throws the confession at you and acts like he's the one in shock, gasping with his eyes full of what resemble fear and hands coming up to hide his gapping mouth. You on the other side, stop breathing completely. "W-what?"
Then you know it wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, because panic settles in his already overwhelmed with emotions' body and mind. "Oh no- please I'm sorry! Could you please maybe forget I ever said that? I don't- it was a lie! Yes I lied-"
"Oh my- you did nothing wrong, no need to panic, just take a deep breath babyboy. " At the beginning of your sentence, you watched as his body relaxed and he started to regain control of himself, but after that you lost the poor boy. "B-babyboy?"
You didn't mean to call him that, but you don't regret it after seeing his reaction. You try to hide your laugh behind a cough, but he catches it quickly. "Are you laughing at me? Was that a joke?"
He looks so heartbroken that it sends a sharp pain through yours, an adorable pout makes its way onto his face without his knowledge, small unshed tears gather at the corner of his eyes and his eyebrows furrow in sadness, making his forehead slightly scrunch up. The poor baby looks way too cute when he's sad, and you shouldn't think so. "No don't cry, it wasn't a joke! I didn't mean for it to slip out like that, but if you don't dislike the nickname..."
"Really?" You have to stop yourself with everything you have right now, to not hug the life out of this precious little human. Fortunately, it seems that luck is on your side today, and the boy is the one reaching out for you. "Umm, would it be ok if I hugged you?"
"Come here." And of course you can't resist, squeezing the boy in your arms in a tight hug and he melts against you, his hands gripping the back of your shirt in fear you'll let go.
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💛Jeong Yunho💛
"Hello! Is anyone here?" You hear a deep, masculine voice call out for someone and you hurry to put the tiny kitten your holding in its cage with her siblings. "Yes I'm coming, just a second!"
"Oh there's no need to rush, please take your time." The man kindly responds and you smile at the gentleness in his tone, hurrying your task despite not having to. You don't want to make the boy wait when you have the time for him immediately.
You enter the main entrance with hurry and enthusiasm for a potential new customer, more then ready to greet the person waiting in the room, but your usual joyful speech is cut short when you are met with who you think, is the most handsome man you ever saw. "Welcome to the shelter... Umm I'm Y/N, how can I help you sir."
You gulp unintentionally, all of the confidence you usually have for other animal lovers like you is thrown out of the window from the moment your eyes meets. His smile is as bright as the sun and you swear you can see twinkles in his beautiful brown eyes, his aura gives off positivity and pure happiness and it makes you smile unknowingly. "Hi I'm Yunho, I'm looking to adopt a dog."
"Oh right- of course, we have a few little treasures at the moment! Would you like to meet them?" You ask in hopes that he would agree and end up taking one of the unfortunate pups currently residing in cages after being abandoned. "Yes! I'd love too."
Your heart flutters at the sight of his beauty and sincerity, showing off all of his perfect white teeth, eyes squinting slightly, giving him such a cute appearance. "You can follow me! I'm sure they'll be really excited to spend some time with you."
"I'm excited too. I've thought about this for a long time and I already bought everything necessary, bed, food bowls, toys, food, treats, blanket and- maybe a little too much actually." Yeah, excitement is clear in his tone and you can't fight the grin from appearing on your face. "I'm really glad to hear that. A lot of people who come to adopt some of our animals don't seem to care much."
"Really? Who wouldn't be looking forward to this? I mean especially if they come here in the first place." You're shocked for a second, the more he speaks and the more you are pleased by his kindness. He seems like a gentle and caring person, exactly the type of person a pet needs. "Right! That's what I thought, they don't deserve to adopt one of them if they act like that."
You turn to him slightly while opening the door to the dogs' room, both exchanging an interesting glance and you blush slightly at the way he carefully watches you. You wonder if he has been looking at during your whole small conversation and if he did, you hope you didn't do anything embarrassing. "We're here."
Your voice his small and you silently curse yourself for appearing so shy and nervous in front of someone you just met. You proceed to open the first cage, letting the 1 year old corgi out and introducing him to Yunho. " This is Pudding, he's a pretty active little guy, cuddly and he listens well to the instructions he's given. On the day he was brought here, he whined and didn't wanna come out of his cage for days after, he was so sad. Poor baby."
"I can't imagine abandoning a small being like that, they must go through so much pain." The pained expression he wears now, confirms his thoughts and you try to brighten the mood up a bit. "Fortunately, there are some amazing people who come here to save them."
Yunho giggles, knowing the intentions behind your words and appreciating your efforts to make his visit as pleasant as possible. "Well, there's also the kind and beautiful girl who takes care of them during their stay."
Your mouth hangs open in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks and you can't help but hide your face behind your hand in hopes that your heart will slow down. Yunho chuckles and the sound sends shivers through your whole body, he keeps getting more and more attractive and you don't know how to act anymore. "W-would you like to meet Rocky now?"
"Mmh I don't know, I think Pudding and I are already inseparable." He pets the dog who has fallen asleep in his laps and you can't help but let out a small laugh, happy for the puppy to have found his new family. "Really?"
"Yup, he's my little buddy now, if that's alright of course." He scratches behind the animal's ear and looks at him dearly, you know at that moment that Yunho is perfect for Pudding. He's going to be loved and cared for like never before and you just have a feeling that he will never be sad again. "Thank you, I'm really happy for you both. All that's left is some paperwork to fill and you'll be able to take Pudding home."
You both make your way out and back into the lobby, Yunho holds the still sleeping dog in his arms and walks carefully not to wake him. You take out a small folder with a few pages document he has to fill and you wait patiently while he writes down the informations needed.
"All done!" He exclaims, keeping his voice low so he doesn't startle the small baby asleep against him, he grins at you but it disappears almost instantly, a nervous expression replacing it instead. "Will I see you again?"
"You mean here at the shelter?" You ask hoping that he wants to see you for another reason than regarding his newfound friend, you don't want to sound like a fool if you answer his question after reading his intentions wrong. He laughs, this time it's so quiet and breathy that you almost don't catch it. "No, I mean... Can I have your number or something? I want to see you again, like to get to know you- if you want to of course, if you don't, I'll respect your decision."
You hesitate, only for a second, not because you don't want to, you would without even having to think about it, but you're at work and you shouldn't be fraternizing with a client. You quickly decide that it's worth giving it a shot and if you get in trouble, you'll deal with it then. You write your number on top of the folder containing Pudding's birth certificate and other important papers and hand it to him, feeling giddy and nervous. "I'd want that too."
You both exchange one last smile and Yunho leaves with the promise of contacting you as soon as he can. You're already looking forward to seeing him again. "See you Y/N!"
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💜Kang Yeosang💜
You were working as a staff member at KQ, mostly assisting everyone you could with their jobs and making their lives just a bit easier. When they found out that you have a degree in kinesiology and worked at a gym for some time, they proposed that you become a personal trainer to some of the members.
One of them being Kang Yeosang, the prettiest human you've ever laid eyes on, ateez's precious and sweet baby who is loved and recognize for his cuteness, is groaning and huffing as he works out only a few meters away from you.
You make eye contact every once in a while through the mirror and you try to make it look like you weren't just checking him out, clearing your throat and nodding before taking some notes on your pad, but deep down you know he must be aware. "I think if you move your arms a bit more sideways it'll be safer. Wouldn't want you to strain a muscle."
"Like this?" He proceeds to do as instructed and you nod with a smile, letting him continue on his own. Truth be told, Yeosang doesn't really need a trainer, but he insisted that you at least stay and watch him so you can take notes on the mistakes and help him improve.
You should keep it professional and not make him uncomfortable, but everytime he goes back to his exercises, you can swear you can see a smirk appear on his face. As if he is teasing you and enjoying your reactions, it's only adding fuel to the creeping fire in your stomach.
His muscles are bulging, almost threatening to rip his shirt with how tight it became since he started an hour ago, a big proof of his efforts. The veins on his arms and hands, a result from all the weight lifting and it's attracting your eyes like a magnet. The sweat coating his skin and making his hair stick to his forehead doesn't make him look bad in the slightest, actually it's the first time that you aren't disgusted by someone else's sweaty figure and you can't help the way your body responds to the man, who is now walking towards your smaller form and towering over you.
You don't know if you were right to agree and take the job, because in this very moment, having to be so close to him is leaving you breathless and you're scared you'll end up reacting in a way that'll make him hate you. He's searching for your eyes, trying to get your attention, but you're so deeply lost in your thoughts that you almost gasp at the feeling of his fingers on your chin. He lifts your head so you meet his gaze and arches one of his eyebrows in what you think is a mix of amusement and interest. "So did you enjoy the show?"
"W-what- are you- you're.. I. I didn't!" You can barely breathe as his overpowering aura engulfs you and it overwhelms you to the point you can't form a whole sentence. His reaction to your response is what makes you break and you try to get away from his grasp, but he only grabs you face more forcefully this time and backs you against the wall behind, almost pressing his whole body against yours. "Now I didn't take you for liar little one."
You accept your fate, his eyes boring into yours and he looks like he's about to devour you. His expression changes from lust to concern in a matter of seconds when you start to tear up, maybe from embarrassment or because everything is too much at the same time, you have no idea. "Are you ok, do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head, but a tear falls followed by your lower lip starting to tremble. Yeosang takes it as a clue to stop even though you say otherwise. He slowly releases your jaw and backs away only enough to give you some space. "Did I hurt you or scare you?"
You reassure him by shaking your head once more, reaching for his hand without realising, only to stop mid air when you do. He notices immediately and smiles sweetly at you, bending to your height slightly before he takes you in his arms, holding you close to his body. "You can touch me if you want, it's ok sweet baby."
"Now do you wanna tell me why you were crying mmh?" He asks gently, not to make you cry again and you try to regain some control over your body, taking a deep breath and thanking Yeosang for being so patient and understanding. "I.. don't know, just felt, like too much."
Hearing your words Yeosang is in dilemma, between squishing you to death from finding you so adorable or kissing you till you can't breathe anymore, but since he doesn't want to overwhelm you again he opts for a more self restrained option. "Can I kiss you?"
You barely have time to nod before his lips are on yours, the gentleness in his touch makes you relax against his chest in less then a few seconds. Your hands reaching up to tug the hair at the back of his nape which results in a deep moan coming out of his throat and you shiver at the sound. Just before it escalates, he slowly parts from you and you both can't help but smile. He pecks your lips a few times before confessing. "You don't know for how long I've been wanting to kiss you."
Maknae line
306 notes · View notes
satoruwiki · 3 months
Note
Could you write something with Todo sometime?
✦ ₊˚୭ DRESS UP FOR ME ❜ .⊹꒷₊
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MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI !!
content: nsfw; smut; porn w no plot; afab!reader; fem!reader; implied relationship; public sex; unprotected sex (oops); creampie
w.c: 1k
n/a: i had to look up todo’s age, i almost did not write abt him lol. got inspired by that one pic of amber heard cosplaying as a overwatch character bc apparently elon musk said she looked like her and then proceeded to have seggs w the cosplay on lmao. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated :b
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You stared at yourself through your phone camera, fixing minimum details on your hair and makeup, making sure you looked perfect and snapped some pictures of your outfit, happy with the result.
“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin to show your whole outfit, turning around to look at your boyfriend, who stood on the door frame, leaning his weight against it. “I think I did a pretty good job, especially with the makeup; what do you think?” You fidgeted with your fingers in anticipation, hoping for his approval. After all, the biggest Takada fan here was him.
Todo was speechless. The fact that you took your time to cosplay his favourite idol had his heart rattling in his chest and his cock half-hard by how good you looked right now.
"You look great, breathtaking even," Words faltered to describe what you were making him feel right now, his mind already flooding with thoughts of what he'd do to you if he had the time right now.
You giggled, standing on tiptoe to give him a short kiss. "Thank you, baby. Let's go to that meet and greet before we're late."
-
"Fuck- Baby, I’m sorry. I know I said I'd wait till we got home but- " Todo groaned, groping the fat of your ass as he pumped in and out of you languidly. He wasn't actually sorry, but he hoped you could forgive him for putting you in a compromising situation like this, at a convention of all places. “I can’t keep my hands off you when you look like this, so cute f'me,” He sighed, his eyes fixed on his girth thrusting in and out and stretching your tight cunt.
You covered your mouth to silence your moans, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as Todo fucked you in the bathroom stall. Your heart pounded in your ears, you weren't sure if it was the fear of being caught in the act that made you feel more sensitive than usual, but every stroke of his cock in your insides had you on the edge. His touch burned under your skin, the air thick with your gasps and his.
"Todo, let's go home," you sobbed between quiet moans; it was becoming more difficult to quiet your sounds as his shaft kept rutting into you and you got closer to your peak, your legs quivering as the band of coiling pleasure was about to snap.
He bent over to whisper in your ear, his cologne filling your nostrils. He always smelled so good that it made you moan. "And have other men come to you and ask for pictures?" Todo clicked his teeth disapprovingly, "Nah, we're not leaving without me marking you. Let them know that Takada's cute cosplayer has a man who has her crazy for his cock," He hissed, pressing his lips on the side of your neck. You winced, feeling his mouth nibble and suck at your skin, bruising it.
So that's why Todo was so adamant about dragging you into the washroom stall and fuck you right here right now. His jealousy had gotten the better of him when he noticed other men - losers, in his words- looking at you with the same eyes he did.
"Besides, you're close, aren't you? I can feel this pretty pussy throbbing and squeezing me so good," Todo panted, his cock twitching inside you as his broad hand slipped underneath your top, pushing your bra upside to fondle your breast, playing with your hardened nipple, your whole body shuddering underneath him.
You let out a breathy sigh, borderline a whine, your pretty face contorting into a scowl, nipping at your lip to stifle your moans. You'd never get used to the girth of his cock and how full it made you feel, nor its length, feeling its thrusts kissing your cervix so deliciously up to your throat, having your breath hitching and ragged and your mind clouded.
"Todo, harder, please," you begged, turning to look at him through your glassy eyes, meeting his thrusts striking your ass against his hips.
"Are you sure, baby, you want the whole world to hear how slutty you can be when I pound your pussy?" You nodded, a pout forming on your lips, needy whines escaping you.
Todo straightened his posture, his hand sliding back to your hips, his grip firm on them; something about you cosplaying his favourite idol and being so into getting fucked in public had his cock throbbing and him going feral. "You little minx, you're gonna get us in trouble," Todo grunted lowly, a lascive grin tugging the corner of his lips, "But I can't say no to you when you look so fucking hot like this."
He picked up his pace, his hips slamming against your ass, the sounds of squelching and smacking flesh loud enough to be heard outside the washroom. "Just stay as quiet as you can, okay, doll?" Todo grunted, babbling about how tight your soppy pussy felt once he went rougher with you, pressing his hand on your belly to feel his dick massaging your walls.
You arched your back, his cock going deeper inside you, pounding that spot that had you seeing stars and drooling.
Your walls spasmed and contracted, moaning his name. Todo's thrusts became sloppy, slow but rough. "Holy fuuuckk- always so fuckin' good, you always know how to take my cock," his breath shattered, emptying himself inside you in one final powerful thrust. You whimpered, his warm load gushing out of you and littering the floor beneath you.
"Shit, such a mess you made, babe," he said, caressing the side of your ass cheek before pulling out, tucking himself back in his slacks and putting your underwear back in place - he still wanted you to keep some of his cum inside you till you got back home so he could keep fucking you good. 
"You alright? I didn't mess too much of your makeup, did I?"
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318 notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 2 months
Text
Chapter 7: Silent Violence is Humbled
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader
WARNINGS: Tension, Angst, emotional discomfort, fluff and comfort towards the end, Strained friendships, verbal abuse, character introspection, character study, anger, hurt, family dynamics.
Summary: Karma keeps it's siege, and a new milestone hits the mark.
Previous
A/N: So. sorry for the delay, had to make some reports for my internship (I'm almost done and out with it 🥹 yay.)
Leaving the hospital wasn't precisely good. A new debt was added to your already trembling credit and to top it off, you were left with meds, a scheduled appointment with a therapist and a plethora of vitamins and supplements.
Of course you had reported everything but the gruesome details to your immediate boss. Not that she didn't sound convinced, rather shocked you were in the hospital.
You only could hope complications wouldn't be a regular guest in your life and bank account.
"I can hear you thinking from here. You ok?" MJ mumbled as she stirred a couple of eggs into the pan. You stared into the endless and spiralling void. Picking at the hospital's pale blue plastic band around your wrist.
You had spaced out as soon as you got  home, the remnants of the perilous encounter with Miguel somehow still remained etched to your skin and mind. Unable to let go completely.
"I think I'll start looking for a better paying job somewhere else."
MJ watched you for a second, "You'll quit Alchemax?"
With a groan, you slouched on the dining table, placing a hand ontop of your head
"I'd love to, but I can't yet. Not until I have something certain anyways. Gotta suck it up for a bit more."
"I'll help you look up on other companies, who knows maybe we find a better thing for you. I don't feel comfortable with you being there with that crazy asshole working in there too. Do you want extra bacon?"
"Pretty please. Thank you, MJ. And yeah, if you're not a scientist in Alchemax, you're basically another exploited worker."
"Stop thanking me. You're my best friend. And I'll help, let me ask Peter if he knows about something somewhere."
She served the breakfast and placed the plate before you. Mayday announced her awakening with a mumble, her tiny hands rubbed her eyes to then look around sleepily, until her blue eyes met MJ.
You couldn't help but stare at the motherly displaying ritual.
Mayday's eyes lit up, shining brighter as MJ approached with a genuine smile that only matched her daughter's.
Your best friend enveloped her little girl in her arms, showering her in affection, earning her a couple of lovely squeals.
"Rested well, sweetheart?"
"Ma ma"
Those syllables alone made your heart leap as a myriad of emotions flooded your brain. The concept you had of it wasn't nothing alike what you were witnessing. There wasn't unnecessary yelling, cussing or physical abuse. All the opposite. A little rush of envy coursed through, but it faded quickly as it came.
It was odd, really. To behold such intimate moment of bonding between the both. It came so natural, full of love and everything you, sometimes at your age still were getting acquainted with. Patience, understanding and caring.
Mayday rested her head on MJ's shoulder and stared at you. Like seizing you for the first time ever, paying attention to your very moves, curious, scrutinizing your soul with her lovely and innocent eyes, leaving no room for disingenuous acts.
You gulped
"Hello" You waved coyly and your heart trembled with something unknown as she giggled your way, approving of your presence. She knew no evil nor judgement. Mayday didn't judge you. Just like her mother. She was pure joy.
"When's the shrink's appointment?"
MJ's voice snapped you out of your mutinied thoughts.
"Uh in a month or two." You mumbled while digging in your breakfast. It tasted like utter love and heaven after having nothing in your stomach for more than a day, and your stomach tolerated it well.
"Are you nervous?" MJ fed Mayday with the bottle, your mind subconsciously took notes of the way she held, fed and talked to her.
"Very. Not a fan of spilling my issues to strangers, even if it's their job."
"I know it might be difficult for you, considering the shitty attention you had before with them. But if the doctor says so, you must do it."
"I know." Your lips sighed, heavy with resignation to then purse into a tiny smile, " I just wanna move on, you know?"
"You will, I know so. You're strong, sweetie. Now eat up and drink your vitamins."
You chuckled, feeling her maternal instinct through the table.
"I think I'm already gaining weight."
MJ chortled as she wiped Mayday's cheek and lips, to then kiss the tip of her nose.
"Wait until you get your feet swollen, the hormone changes. Acne on your back, and the need to jump on-"
"Ok! ok, got it." Your cheeks flushed as the redhead just laughed now at your embarrassment.
"It won't be easy, but you'll get used to some stuff. You'll see."
-----
If there was something that Peter wouldn't openly admit, was the fact he disliked Miguel's sense of disposition of his time.
Sometimes his friend's hubristic demands had him juggling between his own time and his family.
Peter hated when Miguel simply let him know he was on his way. He didn't care if he was busy or was about to be, but also meant one thing. Stress was eating Miguel alive and he, as his best friend, was the only he could rely onto to take away such heavy burden.
With a sigh, Peter prepared mentally for the night. Specially to give his ever patient wife an explanation of a sudden visit. As if the universe made sure MJ and Miguel to never properly meet beyond pleasantries. If they had seen and meet eachother a couple of times was too many.
MJ was either out because of work, leaving him and Mayday alone, or the days and hours Miguel visited were when MJ was already asleep or too busy to sit and socialise with her husband's friends.
Peter has known Miguel for a couple of years by now, and still things didn't change.
He put a couple of beers to cool, then stirred the pasta. Miguel wasn't a picky eater, yet it made Peter stress over the food choice. But MJ wanted pasta and he was none to ignore his wife's whims over his friend's.
How long has it been since he saw Miguel? Months? Half a year? He didn't remember, but hoped that he wouldn't stay too long. Work had chewed, ate and spat him on the floor way too many times to count today.
His shoulders slumped, defeated before hia daughter's sweetness when Mayday gave him a toothy grin, he returned the smile, although tiredly.
"Let's get you some dinner."
He held his daughter in one arm, as he served a bit of noodles in her favorite spider-ham bowl and somw juice in her sippy cup. Peter put her in her chair and placed the food before her  just in time as the doorbell rang.
"It's not that I don't like him, you know? I'm just tired today." Peter mumbled to himself and Mayday as he scratched his stubble and walked over the door.
May could only look at him, curious, bur the bright colors of her cup demanded her attention. To his little surprise, the man in question was there, scrolling through his phone in the meantime. Dressed in a casual button shirt, dark jeans and dress shoes, holding a small bag of sweets as a gift.
"Could you please start letting me know when you're coming over from now on? It's not that hard."
Peter's frustration wafted through his words as Miguel chuckled and followed him, the smell of cologne tickled the host's nose, almost a bit too pungent.
"Had to. Needed a distraction. Here"
He handed the paper bag to him, full of artisanal mexican sweets. At least this time, Miguel was thoughtful enough to bring something he knew Peter liked.
But it also meant one thing. A long night ahead.
With a sigh and defeated shoulders, Peter went to the kitchen, rummaging through the simple glassware to fetch a couple of glasses.
"I have... soda, apple juice, can't give you the beer until Mayday's asleep."
Miguel just quirked a brow and went for water. It was kinda bothersome for him how something so trivial as drinking a beer was a forbidden thing among parents whenever their children were around.
Overprotection and alienation from such things would only make them curious if anything. At least that's how it worked for Miguel. Still, it was Peter's home, and he had to play by the unspoken parenting rules his friend followed to a T.
How inconvenient
Miguel's eyes wandered through the table to land on Mayday. As a happy kid she was, the sauce was smeared all over her cheeks and chin, even her hands and forearms. Some noodles hung on her chin.
Even though his logical side appealed towards a scientific fact about babies discovering everything through their hands and mouth, the sole idea of having to deal with it on a daily basis and probably at every hour the kid would be awake and eating, made his eyes to tear away from the child and sigh, relieved he didn't have to cope with that sort of problem.
He had done his part, and against all logic, you had decided to keep the baby.
Pendeja. (Dumbass)
He huffed, annoyed to none but himself.
What would you do? It wasn't his problem anymore. He had more important things to think about than you and your stupid choices. His jaw clenched.
" You're gonna scare Mayday if you keep glaring like that."
Peter spoke as he cleaned up his daughter after feeding her with some bits of sausages. Miguel sighed as his arms untangled from his chest. A habit he subconsciously adopted as he was way too deep in negative thoughts. He gave his body some slack. He had came here in order to relax amd distract himself.
"Wanna tell me what happened or you wanna wait by having some pasta?"
In fact, now that Miguel was here he could take a good look at the scene before him. Peter had changed so much to the point of transforming himself into a completely different persona.
There was no more staying up past one am, lost in beers and talking about whatever thing alcohol made him spill out of his mouth. Reluctantly, good days. And now Peter was serving him some overcooked pasta that somehow tasted good. Even for him.
Hypocrite.
His mind reprimanded himself. He had wanted kids once but now seeing how it changed and rewired the brain chemistry and your fiasco, the thought of them had been shoved to the very back of his priorities. He had a career and money to make, not play house amd happy family with a stranger.
As much as Peter was his only true friend, he didn't want to look awful and perpetually tired because of a kid, like him.
With a sigh he dug on the food while staring at the both. The tangy smell of the sauce induced the little hunger he ate the pasta. A couple of minutes later passed when the key's tinkering echoed from the main door, revealing none other than MJ balancing a couple of paper bags in hands.
Miguel watched as Peter immediately rushed to her side and helped her out, while welcoming her with a kiss.
"Smells good!" MJ chirped and made her way towards the kitchen, Mayday's eyes lit up as soon as she saw her mama. A bubbly squeal received her when MJ ruffled her fiery curls and took her in her arms, rattling Miguel's ears.
"Hello there, precious" MJ kissed her cheek but then focused her gaze on Miguel. He tensed briefly to then give a polite smile.
"Hey."
MJ nodded and gave her respective hello back. Peter came into the dinning table with an awkward smile. He didn't need to explain the presence of his friend to his wife, as she quickly picked up the cue to get Mayday to sleep.
For some reason, the energy in the room was suffocating. As if Miguel was the black hole sucking the life and energy out of everything even without intending. Yet, Peter tried to shoo the negative aura that lurked around ominously by unpacking the groceries as he talked to MJ
"How was your day?"
"Good, a bit tiresome. But definitely better now than I'm home."
"Want extra cheese in your pasta? Oh! Miguel got us some candies."
MJ smiled politely at him, "Thanks for that. I loved the eh... Maz-uhpan?"
"Mazapán." he corrected gently.
"That thing. Peter, dear can you get the tub ready for May?"
It was Peter's cue to meet her in private.
"Excuse me." She took Mayday and Peter followed, leaving Miguel alone for a moment. Giving him a break from unwanted displays of family dynamics.
Once in the bathroom and away from prying eyes and ears, MJ cleared her throat
"Before you get angry, I didn't know he was coming until fourty five minutes ago."
MJ quirked a brow knowingly and huffed.
"I know. Still, the least he could do is to let us know he's coming over, Pete."
Peter nodded while rubbing his face, tiredly.
"I'm sorry, ok? Will make him go away soon. He's not having a good time right now."
MJ rolled her eyes while Peter added some soap to the water.
"Yeah, he only comes for a visit whenever he needs something out of you."
"MJ" Peter grunted the silent plea. 'Not now.'
She chuckled and kissed his cheek, "You know it's true. But, if it works for you, then ok. Just don't stay up past one. You snore too loud whenever you get little sleep."
"Relax, he probably just want to ramble, take a beer and leave."
"Alright, alright. He could tone his perfume a bit though. I can smell him from here. Go have fun."
-----
The beers clinked in the table, their taste numbed briefly Miguel's throat and tongue. It burned good as the sour liquid rolled down his esophagus, while Peter rambled on about the many pictures he showed him of Mayday.
Not that he didn't appreciate Peter's attempt to make him forget whatever problems were pestering his mind. But if honest, he grew tired after the sixth photo.
"You should have another."
That made Peter shut up and he chuckled.
"No no. With her is enough."
"You sound regretful."
Miguel mumbled as he finished his beer, Peter shook his head vehemently.
"At all. I know I look like shit, Mig. Still, would do it all over again. Like, look at this!" Peter got the screen close to his bored face with another picture and Miguel pushed it away softly.
"Yeah, she's a pretty girl. Got it."
"You don't get it. Once a kid shows up, everything changes."
You've got no idea...
His mind replied, as his body tensed once more.
"Have you talked about this with Dana?"
The name only made the urge to down the other beer in a go, but his mind almost slapped some sense into him and reminded him this wasn't his home.
MJ's steps alerted both men briefly as she came for her extra bowl of soggy pasta and wash Mayday's bottles.
"We broke up." He stated simply with a disdainful shrug
"What the fuck?
MJ turned to Peter, a brow quirked at his choice of words but focused again on the bottle.
"Miguel, you texted me, saying you were looking for wedding venues with Dana. And now you're single again?"
MJ's breath hitched.
Dana
Oh God
Dana D'Angelo.
Miguel's fiance. And the one that slapped you.
MJ had been so busy with work and her motherly duties that totally forgot about her husband's companion.
Miguel.
The man that only relied on her husband's company whenever life was too much for him. An acquaintance that she had only seen a couple of times and shared the same roof as her, although briefly in the few times Peter invited him over.
And also, the man that had gotten you pregnant, and had sent you to the hospital in a fit of rage. The very man that was causing you so much pain, had taken a place on her table, with her family and now was talking comfortably with her husband about his failed love, thanks to none other but himself.
Her heart wrenched and beat so fast in between powerful contractions that it made her breath shaky.
A monster was in her home. A terrible man had waltzed into her safe space and was tainting with his rottenness everything he touched, with his pungent and hubristic smell. His cologne and attitude only made her stomach churn.
"It didn't work out."
She turned to see him, unbelieving in her green eyes. So well behaved, ever polite and not an ounce of guiltiness in his judging stare. Entitled even, as if the world owed him just cause he existed. MJ understood now why it was so easy for you to fall into his trap, but the anger that clawed at her brain was greater than anything she had experienced before.
How dared he come into her home and play the victim when he had forsaken you and his child? How dared he disrupt the natural balance in her house with his mere presence?
"She was getting too annoying for me, anyways. Always behaving crazy." Miguel gestured with a terse movement of his hand before slicking his dark brown strands back.
Oh, how dared he. Those last words made her patience thread to stretch impossibly thin, that it broke.
"Well of course she'll act crazy! You fucking cheated on her!." MJ's hands balled tight at her sides, and glared daggers at Miguel.
Both men snapped to look in her way.
Miguel's eyes widened and Peter blinked almost stupidly at his wife and then at his friend that seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. Few little things in life managed to surprise Miguel, and MJ exposing his dirtiest secret to the only person he trusted outside Dana so carelessly and abruptly, had definitely caught him off guard.
"W-What?"
"He cheated on Dana, Peter."
Miguel swallowed thickly, a shaky breath turned into a steady one, anger coursing through his veins, his mahogany eyes narrowed.
Not them too...
He rubbed his face and hair again, trying to remain composed. If Dana had came for him and gave him no truce, MJ went straight to the jugular. Remorselessly for the kill.
How did she know?
A new wave of fury washed over him at the sudden implication his mind was brewing with, his hand clawed at his bouncing knee.
Did she know you?
What a sick, twisted and small world he lived in. Of course she did. Or else he wouldn't be here, trying to come up with a reply to his shocked friend. But he was cut short from everything, even thinking.
"You don't know shit." Miguel couldn't help but hiss, and his words were enough to throw Peter's patience out the window.
"That's my wife you're talking to, pal." Peter scowled, flabbergasted at Miguel's words as he stood with a warning finger waving at his... friend?, "Tone it the fuck down."
"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Pete!"
Miguel felt ridiculous, not only cause the now constant need of explaining himself, but the absurdity of the situation. He was holding his friend's arm, trying to get Peter to believe him, just like he did with Dana.
But Peter was focused into getting MJ calmed down as she kept cussing his way
"Of course I know, asshole!" She spat, "I know enough of you to say how much of a piece of shit you are!"
That definitely earned her a growl "Whatch your fucking tone"
"Or what?! You'll try and hurt me too like you did with (Name)?! My friend has been suffering nonstop because of your pathetic excuses of being a man!"
If the many years prior to marry MJ taught Peter something, was that if she used foul language meant she was beyond pissed, and rightfully so. She wasn't one for cursing, and things surely would end up terribly wrong.
"You cheated your fiancé, got my best friend pregnant and demanded her to get an abortion-"
"Wait... You... you did what?" Peter's eyes widened and hardened, Miguel was cornered as Peter faced him, still containing his wife.
"No, no. That's bullshit!" Miguel's hand gestured as the other anchored to his hip. His poor attempt of bravery did nothing but set the fire ablaze in its full glory, it all had caught him so off guard he barely could think of comebacks to fend for himself.
"God... You're such a fucking liar!" Peter held MJ back as she seethed, trying to get a hold of Miguel, "I was there at the clinic with her! Cause she tried to correct your fucking mess!"
"I tried to fix-"
"You don't get shit fixed by writing her a fucking check and tell her to get rid of your child! Man the fuck up already! She's so under so much pressure now-"
"Because she's so stupid and chose to fucking keep that thing!" roared Miguel. Tired of being cornered without his usual pretense of control. Shoulders heaving with shaky and wrathful breaths, realizing the mistake he just did.
Peter glowered at him. Not only had he dared to yell at his wife but had been lying to him this whole time. And Mayday was crying. The commotion had been too great that woke her up.
Another pillar in his life was crumbling around, shaking the little constants he still remained with, to their very core.
Peter seized with him a look he had never seen before in his apparently dumb face. Disgust. He was about to protest but Peter's question only brought him to a too bright and unwanted spotlight.
"Is that true?" The tinge in Parker's voice held nothing but utter disbelief, not accusing, but skeptical. As if realizing he was being fooled this whole time as well. Peter slapped Miguel's hands away as he tried to reach for him again.
Shit
His aloof act had spreaded way too fast that didn't give it time to properly root and settle on his inner's circle brains ro control later. Peter growled at the stretching and pregnant silence.
"I'm fucking talking to you." The hard push of his hand made him sway softly, "Is that true!?"
Miguel's eyes widened. Peter's bravado and anger was something he didn't know until now. If honest, Miguel thought of him a complete goof that did everything his wife told him to. A complete mandilón.
If MJ told him to bark, he would and even do a flip while at it. But this man before him was different. Confident, authoritative, honorable, pushing his patience to new limits and oh so disgusted at his actions. A true father and man, unlike him.
A reluctant daddy.
Miguel really had a hard time grasping the magnitude of his doings and how they affected others, cause his remorse was absent. Everything he should be feeling at this collective verbal berating was gone. He was more focused in the defensive than offensive, and he failed.
Upon Miguel's silence, Peter just stared at him and sighed. He wasn't worth it.
"You need to leave, Miguel."
Ash soured the aforementioned throat. A thick lump knotted tightly on Miguel's windpipe.
"What? You're believing every word that comes out of her just like that?"
The question itself was stupid, he knew much so. But Peter didn't budge, in fact, he didn't even look at him as MJ went to fetch her daughter.
"You gotta be kidding me, Parker"
"Am I fucking joking? No. Leave." He shimmied away from Miguel's grasping hands with a disgruntled growl
"Look, I know I fucked up, okay-"
"Damn right you did" Peter pushed him away once more
"Can you listen?! " Tanned fingers sunk on Peter's arms forcefully, preventing him from escaping further, but that only earned him a powerful shove that made him nearly fall. Unlike you, that barely moved him an inch .
"Not this time. I talk and you listen. My home, my rules. Don't like it, get the fuck off." Peter hissed, the day's misfortunes and stress had piled up in his brain and Miguel's actions did nothing but set it all on fire.
"You can't just come into my house unannounced, yell at my wife for calling you out and your bullshit and expect me to remain quiet." His hands moved frantically, "You can't go around acting stupid, being a shitty friend, hurting people and believing the world owes you shit, Miguel!"
Peter turned his back on him, breathing deeply, trying to control the rising anger, finally breaking contact. His shoulders slumped with defeat.
"I knew you were an asshole, but c'mon man... Your own child? Really?" His blue eyes felt like an iceberg caressing upon seizing him a over his shoulder.
"Y dale con la misma pendejada... I did what I thought was right, okay?!" Miguel protested, trying to appeal to that good side that definitely lacked right now.
Peter turned again and stepped in a few strides closer to him, fear lacked in his glare, instead a fiery and scorching fury burned within
"Manning up is the right thing." His calm seething only made Miguel gulp, "Owing your mistakes is the right thing to do!" Peter's voice raised an octave louder
"What kind of fucked up logic is to think you can choose to cheat but choose to not face the consequences?!" Peter jabbed with force his index finger at the treacherous man's chest before him as he hissed every word.
"Funny thing is that you always saw me as a clown. Always bragged on how perfect your life was and thought of me a man child." Each word that came out from Peter was like a stone hitting Miguel,
"And look at you now, acting exactly like that!. How ironic that the roles reversed now." Peter's voice trailed off.
Miguel rolled his eyes so hard it hurted "No me jodas, Parker. Don't fuck with me with your shitty morals You didn't want children either, remember?!."
Disappointment and repugnance plastered all over Peter's face as he shook his head.
"People can do something called change, Miguel. Call me whatever you want, but at least I can say I am a man, cause I owe my mistakes. I don't go around screwing people over and then leave them to fend for themselves."
Peter went to the main door and opened it, with nothing else worthy to spill at Miguel, "Get out."
"You're an hypocrite. When you didn't want kids, everything is alright, but when I do I'm a fucking monster?"
He wasn't welcomed comed anymore. And this only added a couple of more weights in his already heavy bag of burdens, igniting his arrogance even further.
"Are you seriously playing the victim right now?" Peter huffed, "Grow a pair, Miguel. You need them. Get out."
Peter was done, all the energy that had been left was sucked out of him and the stranger before his presence was his biggest leech, he awaited for Miguel to leave, which made the exposed man's chest tighten uncomfortably. The friendship had crumbled. There wasn't anything left for him to salvage anyway.
"Fine." He took his jacket with a forceful grab, "Have it your way then." He spat and left the house with a slam that shook the doorframe.
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Your eyes raked over the cream colored walls, as your back nested comfortably against the stretcher. Silence reigned with such deliciousness it soothed your underlying nerves.
A month and a half had gone by ever since yiu had that unwilling visit to the hospital, hitting the sixteen weeks of pregnancy. Your meds worked relatively good, and so did the vitamins to the point of getting a bit more strength and color in you.
But today was different. Everything felt different ever since you woke up. The sheets felt divine, the mattress had the right amount of hardness to help with the lumbar area.
The water in the shower felt heavenly on your skin, it was as if the universe was preparing you for a surprise after so many tough times.
Whatever it had planned, you hoped it was good, or at least, digestible enough to not choke you with it.
The doctor, Mrs. Vincent, typed some information in her computer, then stood to whir the machine alive.
"Lift your shirt up, please." Once you did, she smeared a dollop of blue gel on your naked belly, something you barely had the chance to admire, too busy trying to adapt to the emerging changes in your body.
Some clothes had stopped fitting and if they did, they were a chip too tight. The baby bump wasn't enormous like you had thought, but it wasn't small either, after all, Miguel was a big man. It had enough curvature to make your belly poke out from any clothes you had.
I feel like a walking avocado...
MJ was sitting next to you. Although you felt guilty because of the scene Miguel created at her home, she was more than happy to put him in his place, and so her husband. Peter.
Bless him.
You haven't properly known the man but that action alone of standing up for you against his friend of years, made you a bit hopeful.
You weren't looking for a partner, much less a father to the creature growing within, the least you wanted to do was to complicate yourself even more and add another thing in the already long lists of stress you went by.
But in truth, you wished to be there to see his downfall. Not that you were spiteful, but karma surely was a beautiful thing to watch. And the thought of him being this scared and uncomfortable man, the opposite of what you had seen and experienced, made your lips curve into a satisfied smile.
Life had heard your pleas and you were thankful.
Your breath hitched as soon as the machine's accessory made contact with your skin. Cool plastic, like the cold gel all over your skin.
"Let's see", Dr. Vincent mumbled as she adjusted her glasses in her nose bridge. The white light illuminated well the, place, her faint smell of vanilla perfume tickled your nose, it wasn't an offensive perfume, but it made you a little queasy.
It definitely shut down the medicinal smell you had been received with.
Dr. Vincent's gloved hands took the transducer and gently moved it around your belly.
"Does it feels cold?"
You nodded with a nervous smile, "A bit, yeah."
Mayday's giggles echoed behind you, MJ shushed her with some gentle words and her breath hitched when she looked at the screen.
The redhead looked like was experiencing so many things for the first time again, yet she held your hand with excitement thrumming in her skin.
"Look at that, Mama"
The word still made you uncomfortable, but the way the doctor had spilled it felt oddly soothing. The baby was there, etched forever to your womb, growing within your guts each passing day, squirming like a little worm, making it's presence known with a kick.
MJ could only watch as you chuckled. Your features softened the more you stared at the screen. But then your eyes widened at seeing the baby's 3D image.
Resting against one of your womb, comfortably, squeezing it's little hands over and over.
And if honest, curiosity had gotten a vice like grip on you. The way the baby moved and nested within you was equally disturbing and beautiful.
The transducer moved all over as Dr. Vincent looked up the right angle. Breath grew short and caught in your throat at the doctors next words.
"There she is"
MJ gasped, excited and your eyes turned bleary.
A girl. You were having a girl.
"Congrats, Mama." The doctor printed the pictures.
The little bean inside was a girl. There was no longer an it, no longer the creature, or the baby.
Despite the though times you've endured, she was healthy. Perfectly developing, a bit underweight, but healthy.
A myriad of things crossed your mind, panic, admiration, fear and so much confusion. They all swirled inside your jumbled head, fighting over the control of your emotions.
MJ squeezed your hand as soon as she noticed the red-ish hue blooming in your nose and the glossy eyes.
A little sniff was stifled. The doctor smiled at your apparent emotional reaction.
"It's ok to cry. I've gotten too many boys in the week, seeing a girl a was a change of pace. Thank you for that, hun." Dr. Vincent spoke with a sweet voice.
You couldn't help but sob silently. Digesting every second of what had just happened. The nauseas had subsided momentarily, as if sensing you needed your strength for something else.
It didn't help your hormones that Mayday took a hold of your finger, big blue eyes staring at you with pure child like wonder as if demanding your attention. Your lips quivered, and when she cooed your way, you broke.
It's alright.
She'd surely say. MJ held you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles, letting you absorb the news at your own pace.
"You ok?"
You nodded, holding onto her tightly.
"It's a girl, MJ"
Your best friend smiled sympathetically your way, "Indeed. And she's healthy. You've done a fantastic job in keeping her that way, sweetie. I'm proud of you."
Her words did nothing but make you cry harder.
"I'm so scared, MJ"
"I know. But it's alright. I'm here and Mayday too, remember?"
You chuckled in between tears and sighed, while wiping your tears.
"I'm so scared cause... I don't wanna repeat things all over with her."
"Then let's make them differently, ok? I'm here. You're not alone."
You hugged her once more.
"Let's celebrate, yeah?"
"I... I don't know if I should even do that, all things considered."
MJ chided your name gently.
"You deserve it. You've faced so much already, this little girl right here" She placed her hand in your belly, "has stayed healthy and perfect because of you. You've done so much. So let's celebrate that, ok?"
Even if you thought yourself undeserving of such thing, you nodded and followed her.
You wouldn't admit it, but a deep deep part of you bloomed with a little seed of curiosity and excitement.
-----
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mcflymemes · 11 days
Text
AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary
i can't find any hard evidence.
good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.
i'm coming with you.
sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.
i just couldn't take it anymore.
maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.
if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.
i thought you were dead.
it sure is good to see a friendly face.
at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.
my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.
i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.
nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?
don't make me laugh, damn it.
some women find facial scars attractive.
i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.
when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.
kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.
what do you want from me, [name]?
i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.
it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.
my instincts are what got me into this mess.
never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.
well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.
if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.
you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.
you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.
i brought wine.
your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.
hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.
i want something to go right. just once.
think you can win this thing, [name]?
i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.
so... is this the part where we shake hands?
the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.
i've been doing some more research on human customs.
glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.
let's not go there.
i can afford the good stuff.
what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.
don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.
if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.
still trying to make me blush, huh?
i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.
it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.
the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.
not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.
i've actually seen you dance. no comment.
i know there are other things you're good at.
probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.
so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?
it gets even better when you try it in bed.
you don't lack for places to get lost.
did we break anything last night?
you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.
if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.
forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.
come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.
we're in this 'til the end.
we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.
looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.
if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.
oh crap!
guess he didn’t like the food.
looks like we got the jump.
pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.
we won’t get a second chance.
that was me, sorry.
nothing like being stranded.
we’ll do more than that.
just the usual minor flesh wound.
what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?
i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.
stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.
drinks will be on me.
one of my favorite places to fight!
i’m hard to kill. you should know that.
it’s gonna be bad all over.
for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.
you’ve waited long enough for this day.
just wait ‘til this war is over.
you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.
maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?
how do i not have one of those?
surprise on our side for once. i like it.
brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.
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