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#you can love people at any distance you choose to set
niishi · 6 months
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I think a lot of ppl need to be their own protectors, swallow their pride, and not act in ways that lead to irreversible regrets and guilt. But 20yros on tiktok made us all believe cut off culture was a punishment to enact lightly.
#im not saying cutting ppl off is always a bad thing#i just think yall do it too often and for the worst reasons#and then when the person you love/loved dies or kills themselves#you live with irreversible traumatic guilt and regret#how are you protecting yourself from others while also being the person who irreversibly damages themselves by choice?#yall just take that action too lightly#conflict happens in close relationships#learn how to set boundaries and be the boss of your own world#you can love people at any distance you choose to set#without killing them off#i see so many videos of people being upset with someone#and cutting them off#then that person dies or kills themselves#you cut them off bc they harmed your mental health but your actions end up harming your mental health more than anyone else#idk#i dont want to live with regrets#again im not against cutting ppl off#ive cut off several ppl#i just dont think it should be done so charitably#guilt and regret reforms your brain the same way trauma does#youre going to end up doing major damage to yourself unless you find your own inner strength and confidence#your happiness and health doesnt have tocbe dependant on how other people treat you#their actions speak only for themselves#it's just as hard to gain mental and emotional strength as it is to gain physical strength#idk idk idk#youre not an anarchist or rebellious if you dont believe in community#if you love the drug addicts you see on the street and think they need to be shown humanity#but you cant do that for the addicts you know personally?#just an example... idk#yall are anti community snd struggle and then call yourself anarchists and it's embarrassing
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winterarmyy · 3 months
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Kiss It Better
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 
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Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.
Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Words: 3.2k++
Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--
Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.
She can't.
So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.
Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.
Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.
He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 
When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 
Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.
Most of his senses are enhanced after all.
So, why was she avoiding it?
Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.
Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.
Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.
He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.
Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.
He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.
As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.
The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"
He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.
A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.
The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.
So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.
She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"
She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.
Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.
The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.
Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.
She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.
Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.
His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.
"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.
When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.
She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.
Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."
Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.
She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.
Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.
Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.
"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.
He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.
She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.
Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"
Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.
"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.
Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"
Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."
She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"
Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.
She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.
The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.
Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."
Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.
But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.
The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.
Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"
He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.
"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.
Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"
She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."
That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.
He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.
Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.
And then he does it again and again.
Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.
With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.
"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.
And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.
Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.
Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.
"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"
He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.
Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.
And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.
So sweet and warm and addictive.
While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.
Yet he was still hungry.
She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡
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runninriot · 4 months
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...✍️
“I want that too, y’know. The touching and kissing, everything. But the problem is, that I- I want all that from someone I can’t have. And that sucks.” Steve chuckles bitterly.
Isn’t that funny? That there he is, the wonderful man that stole Eddie’s heart, being just as miserable, just as heartbroken as Eddie is. It’s hysterical, really. Eddie wants to laugh, wants to ask who Steve is talking about. Finds it impossible to think there could be a single person in this world that would pass on the opportunity to be with Steve in all the ways Eddie would kill for.
   “Guess that makes two of us,” Eddie confesses and Steve perks up at his words, opens and closes his mouth as if he, too, doesn’t know if it’s okay to dig deeper.
There’s a sadness in his eyes Eddie thinks must mirror his own; two sets of brown eyes searching for comfort in each other. Eddie feels so small, so angry for Steve and himself because love could be such a beautiful thing but isn’t when the rhythm of your heart doesn’t match the one it’s beating for. When love is a one way road with no exists.
   “What do you mean?” Steve asks but Eddie just shakes his head and smiles weakly, trying to take some of the heaviness away for both their sakes.
People don’t choose to fall in love, it just happens. And when it does, there is always a fifty-fifty chance that your love is requited. That the person you fell for likes you in the same way, wants you just like you want them.
Sadly, Eddie has yet to be one of the lucky ones to experience that. The real thing. And while they are still staring at each other, each wallowing in their own sorrow because being in love hurts – he realises that this is so much more than a stupid crush. That this goes deeper than anything he’s ever felt before. That maybe for the first time in his 25 years on earth he understands what true love feels like. Feels the crushing weight of it. Knows it won’t fade so easily. But-
   “You’ll always have me.”
He can pretend. He can be Steve’s friend even if it hurts. Eddie would rather pull his own heart out than not to have Steve in his life. He’d rather be Steve’s friend than nothing at all.
   “What?” Steve seems confused at his statement and Eddie can’t blame him.
   “I’m sorry you can’t have who you want but you’ll always have me.”
   “Why do you say that?”
   “Because I mean it, Steve. No matter what, you’ll always have me. It might not be enough for you and I get that. But for me, this is everything I need even if I can’t have all I want. You wanna know why I came home so early? Because when you texted me, I realised that I don’t need to be anywhere else, with anyone else.”
    I just wanna be here. With you.
Eddie bites his tongue to stop himself from saying more, knows he’s already said too much. Probably shouldn’t have said any of it.
The confusion in Steve’s eyes turns into something else – anger maybe? Frustration? He pulls away from Eddie, jumps up off the sofa and walks a few steps back.
   “You- you can’t just say things like that, Eddie.”
Eddie hates that there is so much space between them, so he stands too, approaches Steve like he would a scared animal, taking slow steps to close the distance between them.
   “I can’t say the truth?” He doesn’t think about his own words, just lets his emotions take over his brain and mouth, doesn’t care about the consequences.
   “N-no! You can’t just say it like it means more than what you’re actually saying. You’re doing this enigmatic bullshit I never understand because I’m too dumb to read between the lines!”
That causes Eddie to freeze on the spot. He’s only inches away from Steve now, could lift his arms easily to reach out for him. But Steve’s words stop him.
He’s right, isn’t he? Eddie does that a lot. Says only half of what he means or says one thing and means another entirely. He just never realised Steve knew. That he can see right through him.
   “You’re right,” he agrees.
Steve huffs annoyed, rubs his hands roughly over his face.
   “Then tell me what you mean. What you really mean.”
It doesn’t matter now, does it? He already said too much anyway. Steve is already onto him, knows Eddie is playing a game of hide and seek with himself – hiding the truth and seeking for an easy way out. But it’s too late to try and turn this conversation around.
   “What I mean is-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, summons all the courage he can find in himself. “It makes two of us because I feel that same way you do. Wanting someone I can’t have? Because you’re my friend, Steve. I can’t have you the way I want you and that’s fine. It hurts like hell but it’s fine. I can live with that. You’ll never be alone because you’ll always have me as a friend.”
Steve stares at him with eyes full of rage.
   “But I don’t want you as a friend.”
Steve’s words hit him like a fist to the face. But before Eddie can let them sink in and start spiralling about the meaning behind them – Steve not wanting to be friends anymore because of Eddie’s confession, obviously – Steve closes the distance between them in one swift motion, grabs Eddie’s face on either side, looking at him with determination in his eyes.
   “I want you as more than a friend, Eddie.”
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rikichie · 1 month
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Just don't ask me how that huge plush was thrown there
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Under the cut, things I imagine in YOI pre-canon, with the ways my thoughts tie into canon to explain why I think them. These are personal headcanons and interpretations.
With Viktor, I imagine his family being high achieving, and Viktor having a lot of expectations on him. And he matches then successfully. But this means his parents think he's doing well, even in moments where emotionally he isn't. They look at achievements rather than looking at him. It's not intentional neglect, they just don't have the awareness of mental wellbeing. He has a bed and food and he's doing well in school and skating, so everything must be okay. It's fine when he's fine, it's lonely when he's not. And it's the first environment that teaches him to match himself to what's expected and wanted of him, fulfilling a role rather than just being.
When he's older, he quietly creates distance. Not cutting them off, but not reaching out. They don't mind. They follow news, and they can show off his success.
When he's young, Viktor loves having fans and being known and admired. Af first he doesn't see downsides to it. And then something happens, as simple as "did you see him throwing the flower at Christophe Giacometti? He was flirting, how cute" - and Viktor realizes his fans will draw their own conclusions and won't believe him if he tries to say they're wrong.
So he starts adjusting his approach. Building a persona, and building walls. Charming smiles that get him anything he wants. Practicing the skill of giving people what they expect. Being what they expect. And then flipping it on its head and surprising them.
If you're focusing on matching and subverting expectations, you're not necessarily being yourself. Any personal exploration of identity is hidden and alone. But on the ice, when he's performing, he can be honest. He can be seen. Because they're going to take it as fake. Think of how Minako reacted to Stammi Vicino - Viktor's earnest plea for someone to stay by his side, well, he's too charming for this to tug at the heartstrings. So he can play with stories that he won't share with anyone any other way, and he knows they'll take it as pretend.. The walls he builds don't allow him to be truly close to people. He has good relationships with other skaters, but emotionally keeps them at arm's length. He doesn't notice he's isolating. Chris and he have fun joke-flirting, but when Viktor steps away from the ice Chris doesn't seem to realize he needs this, isn't close enough to know what he's struggling with. He talks like Viktor is taking away the motivation he's entitled to by choosing to coach Yuuri. His rinkmates see him on good and bad days so they know when he struggles, and Yakov is the only person close to knowing him deeply, but even he doesn't take it seriously when Viktor burns out, so that is still limited.
For Yuri, I think his mother was going through a lot to let his grandfather take care of him. He has a lot of responsibility in that setting, and it all starts when he's so young.
I think, with Viktor being present in his life consistently from such a young age, Viktor is one of the people he sees as family. He absolutely looks up to him, just like he absolutely looks up to Yuuri. And I think he resents the emotional distance Viktor maintains.
He's not very attentive to people in general, but he's the one that explains to us how Viktor feels early in the show. When Viktor left to Japan so suddenly, I think Yura felt abandoned beyond just Viktor forgetting to choreograph a program for him. If it was just the program - he did end up getting Agape, he could have just asked for that, but he tried to get Viktor to go back. I feel like he hates that Viktor went to look for a way to get his spark back somewhere else, instead of staying and finding a way out of his slump with his rinkmates. If what Viktor needs is to coach someone, why isn't Yuri good enough? He's a talented skater and he sees himself as continuing Viktor's legacy, but Viktor chose someone else for that role.
And Viktor did choose Yuuri to continue his legacy. Because Yuuri skates so beautifully, because Yuuri has so much love for Viktor's skating, because Yuuri has drive and ambition and pride and skill and he finds joy in skating, and Viktor wants to nurture all of that into the performance Yuuri deserves to show.
And along the way, he learns how to connect with people as himself. His relationships with Yuuri and Yuuri's family open doors for him to better and deeper relationships with Yuri and Chris and anyone else he wants to be close to.
About Yuuri, there's very little I can say because we know so much. So I'll just share a lighthearted headcanon a few friends and I came up with as a story idea and I just adopted.
I don't share the fanon that Phichit got him into pole dancing. In my mind, he either started himself, or it was Chris - unintentionally. I think they're friends, because of how Yuuri reacted to him in the show, like he's used to him. And I like to think Chris kept saying things that made Yuuri feel competitive. Talking about how it's great for core strength, "but it's probably not your thing." Sent pictures of himself performing difficult moves, and got pictures back because Yuuri was trying to match him or do more difficult things than him. And meanwhile Chris thinks they're showing off to each other for fun. It's how Chris knew Yuuri can keep up with him at the banquet.
I still want to write something for that last bit.
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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months
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I'll Always Choose You
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.8k
Warnings: car accident, injured!reader, bitchy girlfriend, angst, fluff at the end
Request by @jessicalynnann: I’m requesting another one lol. Can I get a request where the reader and Jensen are best friends and Jensen is falling in love with her but his gf is really rude to her and makes him choose. Well the reader hears and distances herself… well Jensen realizes it is too late and the best friend is the one that makes him happy but the reader gets into an bad accident. You decided the ending. Thanks.!!! 
Summary: Jensen is back in town with his new girlfriend and is hosting a barbecue to get together with everyone and catch up. This is the first time you're meeting her, and she doesn't take you to as kindly as she leads everyone to believe she is.
Square Filled: in vino veritas (2021) for @spndeanbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Jensen hasn’t even been back for more than a week and he’s already having a barbecue at his cabin in the mountains. He rents the place out every summer and invites everyone he knows to stay with him for the weekend. The place is big enough to house two dozen people and Jensen knows a lot of people. It’s been a few months since Jensen has been home since he’s traveling with his new girlfriend. You haven’t met her yet but you have talked to Jensen about her. He seems to be crazy about her so you’re not going to ruin what they have.
Yes, you have a crush on him. Yes, you love him. Yes, you’d do anything to make him happy. Yes, he is your best friend. No, you won’t do anything about it because he seems to be happy. What kind of friend would you be if you took that away from him?
Once you finish getting ready into a summer flowy dress, you grab the food you cooked and pile into your car. The cabin is located in the mountains up north so it takes you an hour to get there. There are already a bunch of people there but you don’t mind being later than everyone else. You pull into the driveway and see Jared’s car indicating that him and his wife are already here.
You let yourself into the house and enter the kitchen to place your food there when you see a young and beautiful woman. She must be Denise, Jensen’s girlfriend. You recognize her from the photos he’s sent you.
“Oh, hi. Denise?”
She looks you up and down as if she’s judging you.
“Yeah. You must be Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” you smile.
“You have such a cute dress on. Don’t let the drinks ruin it.”
It’s the way she says this that makes ou suspicious. She seems a bit passive-aggressive like she doesn't like you. Instead of giving you a chance, she’s already decided that she doesn’t like you. You’re not going to let her ruin your night because you came here for one thing and one thing only.
“I can handle myself. Where is Jensen?”
Speaking of, your best friend walks inside the kitchen using the back door with containers of food in his hands. He looks at you and a big smile breaks out on his face.
“Y/N! You came!” He sets down the food and scoops you into his arms. You don’t miss the way Denise is glaring at you two. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“Baby, you promised you’d show me around,” Denise says and pulls her boyfriend away from you. “Remember? You said you’d do it when you got done outside.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He turns to you. “I’ll be right back. Jared and Gen are outside.”
“Okay,” you nod.
Denise practically drags him away, leaving you all alone. You shake off this bad feeling you’re getting and join the others outside. Jared is talking to some guys off to the side while Gen is heping prep the table for the food. Joshua, Jensen’s brother, is using the grill to make his famous chicken on the other side of the backyard.
“Y/N!” Jared says a bit too loudly.
“Whoa, are you okay?” you chuckle and hug him.
“Yeah, I’m great.”
Jared has always been a light weight despite how tall he is. He definitely has the weight to keep the effects of alcohol away but he acts like he’s a hundred pounds when he drinks. It only takes a few drinks to really get him going.
“What number of drink is that?”
“Three?”
“You drink any more, you’ll bring out Doug. Do you really want to do that?”
“Probably not,” he chuckles.
You have fond memories of Jared’s alter ego coming out after he’s had too many to drink. The night usually ends in the cops being called but it’s memories you love to think about.
“So, I met Denise.”
Jared starts laughing at the tone of your voice.
“Yeah, everyone has that same reaction when they first meet her.”
“What is her problem?”
“I don’t know. She’s not the best person to be around but no one says anything because it seems like Jensen is happy. They’ve only been dating for a few months but they seem happy together.”
Jensen and Denise come back from the self-tour and you watch as she clings to his side even though he wants to go over to his friends and converse. He has a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his ears. He might be happy but it’s not true happiness.
“You don’t know him like I do.”
You leave Jared’s side to join Jensen’s. He has yet to tell you about his trip and now’s the perfect time to do that. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you just want to be around him. However, Denise sees you walking over to them and she tugs on Jensen’s arm to grab his attention. She leans in and whispers something in his ear that causes him to chuckle.
“Sure,” he nods.
They both walk off before you can get to them, and Denise looks back at you to gauge your reaction. You pretend like you weren't walking to them and veer to the right where Gen is. She says something to you but you’re not paying attention. You stare at the couple until they disappear around the corner of the house. Jensen didn’t even see you coming toward him.
You push down your feelings and enjoy the company of everyone else until dinner is served. Jensen took the seat next to you before Denise could pull him away so she is forced to take the other side of him. Everyone digs into the delicious food immediately and the conversation somehow gets on the topic of how stupid Jensen has been in his past.
“Once Jared told me I couldn't do it, I had to prove him wrong. I climbed up to the roof  and got ready to jump into the pool.”
“I told him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen,” you chuckle.
“Yeah, so I got a running head start and jumped off into the pool. I made it in but it was shallower than I thought, and I broke my arm on the side of the pool.”
“You were a big cry baby,” you laugh and lean on his arm in laughter. “I held your hand the entire way to the hospital.”
“That you did,” he smiles down at you.
Denise’s jaw ticks in annoyance and jealously. She grabs her alcoholic drink and walks past you as if she is going to get a refil. However, she “trips” and she spills her entire drink all over your new dress. You gasp from how cold it is and stand up in shock.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” Denise apologizes.
“Shit, that’s cold!”
You look down at your dress to see the alcohol already staining your dress. You look at Denise and see the malicious intent in her eyes. She might be faking an apology but you know she couldn’t care less about this. She did this on purpose.
“Here, come with me. Let me clean this up before the stain sets.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” Jensen asks.
“No, I got this,” Denise chuckles.
She takes you into the cabin before you have  achance to say anything. As soon as the door is closed, she becomes a whole other person. She drops the nice girl act and shows her true colors.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but stay away from my boyfriend.”
“My problem? What are you talking about?”
You grab some napkins to dab your dress without her help.
“You can play games all you want but he’s mine, and I’ll make your life miserable if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
“I don’t want him,” you lie.
“Please,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “I saw the way you were looking at him the entire night. Stay away from him or I’ll do more than pour alcohol down your dress.” She walks back to the door but pauses because she’s not done talking. “I am better than you in every way. You might be the best friend but I’m his girlfriend, and I always get what I want.” She gives you a sweet smile as if she didn’t just threaten you. “It’s nice to meet you though. Sorry about the dress.”
As soon as she leaves the kitchen, tears roll down your cheeks. You can’t go back out there looking like a mess so you dry your cheeks and your dress as much as possible before going back outside. Everyone is mostly done with dinner so they’re standing around instead of sitting. Jensen immediately walks over to you with a look of concern on his face.
“Hey, are you okay? I can pay for the dry cleaning.”
You look at Denise who is watching you with careful eyes. Jensen might genuinely be happy with her so you can’t take that away from him and tell him how rotten his girlfriend is. Plus, would he even believe you? Yes, you’re his best friend but would he believe you over his girlfriend?
“No, it’s okay. It was a misunderstanding,” you sigh.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
You excuse yourself and walk over to Jared who has been watching you three the entire night. He had two glasses of water at dinner so he’s sobered up some more. He sees the look of defeat on your face and nudges you arm.
“They won’t last.”
“What?”
“I don’t see them lasting another month.”
“Why would I care?”
“Come on,” Jared chuckles. “We all know you’re in love with him.”
“Shut your mouth, Jared,” you snap.
“What, am I wrong?”
You look at Jensen and Denise who are all over each other. She has her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands are low on her hips. You have to hold back your tears.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. She clearly doesn’t want me around.”
“Give it time.”
Jensen and Denise walk into the cabin to do God only knows what, and you decide it’s best if you leave now. You don’t want to spend the night and have to hear them through the walls.
“As much fun as this whole thing has been, I should go now.”
You give Jared a side hug so you don’t get the alcohol on him.
“Good luck.”
You can’t leave this party without saying goodbye to Jensen. You’ll steal a couple of minutes and leave and that will be that. You don’t even have to give him a hug goodbye . You walk inside the house in search of your best friend. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where you overhear Denise and Jensen talking.
“What’s wrong? You were fine when we showed up.”
“I don’t like that you spend so much time with her. I’m your girlfriend who loves you.”
“She’s my best friend.” Great, they’re talking about you. How can you go in there now? It’ll only be awkward and you’ll give away that you’ve been listening. “We grew up together.”
“You’re with me now. Y/N needs to find someone she loves and leave us alone. I don’t want to be rude but it’s obvious she wants you.”
You can’t see Jensen’s face from where you’re at but you can only imagine what it looks like.
“You’re overreacting.”
“Do you have feelings for her? Is that why you’re being this way?”
You hold your breath and wait for his answer.
“Be this way? What are you talking about?”
“It’s me or her. Pick one. You can’t have both.”
You can’t bear the thought of hearing his answer because there is a chance that he might choose her. You quickly leave the room without hearing his answer and escape to your car. You shouldn’t have come. He has been with Denise for months across the world. He probably has a lot more fun with her than he does with you. He’s found someone to replace you with. You can’t fault him for choosing her. She can give him everything you can’t.
You peel out of the driveway and start the journey back home. Tears are flowing down your cheeks making it harder to see the road in front of you. It’s a particularly windy day so your car is slightly shaking; nothing you can’t control. It doesn’t help you’re driving in the mountains with no light except for that of your headlights. Through your tears, you don’t see the car on the other side of the roading coming straight at you.
You hit him going seventy miles an hour head on, and you’re thrown from the windshield and onto the groound. You left in such a hurry that you forgot to put your seatbelt on. The car you hit is a much bigger car than yours so it doesn’t have nearly as much damage as yours. The car slams on its break before slowly driving off, leaving you on the ground outside.
You gasp in pain and stare at the starry sky above you. Blood runs down your body and pools on the ground. You never took time to admire how pretty the night sky is. Your entire body is in pain but there is a certain peace that comes with being on the brink of death. You close your eyes to get some sleep when you hear someone calling your name off in the distance.
How much time has passed? It seems like minutes but could have been for much longer.
“Y/N!” Jensen gasps and slides on the ground when he gets to you. You open your eyes and see red and blue lights flashing off his face. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on for me, okay? Please be okay.”
“Sir, you need to move.”
Jensen is pulled back so the paramedics can come in and do their job. You close your eyes because you’re so fucking tired. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground and onto something softer than the ground. You’re wheeled on a gurney into the ambulance with Jensen following closely behind.
“Sir, only family are allowed inside.”
“I’m her husband,” Jensen shouts and pushes past the paramedics.
They allow him to sit inside and be with you until they get to the hospital. Jensen grabs your bloody hand just as you roll your head to the side. You barely squeeze his hand to let him knwo you’re with him and not going toward the light no matter how tempting it might be.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m holding your hand.”
The next time you open your eyes, you’re confronted with blinding white lights. Is this what Heaven is like? Did you die? You blink a few times to correct your vision and see you’re not in Heaven but a hospital room. You groan softly and look to your right where Jensen is. He is holding your hand with his head lowered like he’s praying. When he hears your painful groan, his head snaps up.
“Sweetheart. Hey, I’m right here.”
“Jensen?” you croak.
“Do you need some water?” You nod and he grabs a small cup of water. He helps you drink before setting the cup down. “How are you feeling?”
“What happened?”
“You collided with another car. The bastard left instead of staying but cops found him near where the cabin is. There’s only one road going in and out of town so it wasn’t hard to spot the truck with bumper damage. Your car is totaled though.”
Oh, yeah. The reason why you didn't see the other car is because you had tears flowing out of your eyes the entire time. Why were you crying? Right. Jensen was going to choose Denise over you. You take your hand away from his when you remember this and shift further from him.
“Where is Denise?”
“Gone.” Your eyes snap to his. “I broke up with her.”
“What? Why?”
“She made me choose. Anyone who makes me choose isn’t good enough to be with me.”
“What did she make you choose?” you ask even though you know the answer.
“It was either you or her, and you should know by now I will always choose you.”
“You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
“I’m glad she did.” He grabs your good hand and kisses the back of it. “I was blind to who was by my side my entire life.”
You smile and run your thumb on the back of his hand.
“What does this mean?”
“First, you get better. Then, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”
“Deal,” you smile shyly.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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aaagustd · 24 days
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room for two | jjk: prologue
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a series from the "Misfit Parents Collection"
⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon
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title: room for two
pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader
genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+
summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 
Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.
wc: 1.7k
warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 
release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est
note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3
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One year ago.
The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 
Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 
His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 
When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.
If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 
Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.
Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 
Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.
Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 
Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.
Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.
Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 
Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.
"Coward!"
He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.
Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.
With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.
So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 
A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.
He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 
Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.
Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.
He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 
He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.
Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.
He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.
Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.
He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 
Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.
The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.
"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.
With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 
While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.
Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…
His assistant?
The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.
6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?
He doesn't have to.
Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 
He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.
Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 
Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.
7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few
After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.
"Tab or no?"
"No, love. That's it for me.."
He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.
"Keep what's left," he insists.
She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.
As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.
"What the—"
"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.
She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.
"She's trying, but…"
Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.
"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"
She declines.
"It's on me, sweetheart."
Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.
Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.
He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.
The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."
The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—
His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
Once again, the number is unknown. 
Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.
Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.
"Hello?"
"Hi, son."
Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 
"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"
He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.
"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 
He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.
"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"
"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."
There's a pause.
There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.
"He's dead."
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azullumi · 1 month
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“lyra” ; dazai osamu
summary — the many times you felt loved by him and the one where a confession happened.
pairing — dazai osamu (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff (kind of), utilization of the friends to lovers trope, slightly proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot
tagging — @toorurs
note — i literally haven’t written for him for years now and i swear i lost my mind and pulled my hair,, i could have done this better !?
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Dazai is unpredictable.
In more ways than one, he is erratic, able to conceal his intentions beneath that long trench coat of his, tucked in the loose parts of his bandages, hidden somewhere only he can see. He is the definition of an enigma, he is more than a puzzle, not just a paradox that continues to exist despite death being the only companion and comforting thing to him—a man of mystery that is better left unknown.
“My, you always look as ethereal and beautiful as a lotus blossom.” The dark-haired man says as he holds your hand in his, his finger delicately tracing the lines of your palm, and his eyes looked softer than usual, his gaze holding something that lies between the line of affection and seduction. Sparkles and flowers seem to bloom behind him, the background of the cafe fading and turning into a plain pink one with hearts that float around his figure.
(Flirty.)
He’s fluent in the language of amorous words laced with playfulness accompanied with gentle touches and slow caresses on your skin. He doesn’t hesitate in getting close, invading your space and going over the line, and maybe he’ll show that he is into you but only a fool would think of his words as genuine affection meant for you and only you.
“My eternal light to the darkness, would you be willing to—” However, he’s unable to finish his sentence as you take your hand back from him, offering him a smile instead as you subtly set a distance between the both of you—as if you were telling him to never cross the line, to stay at an arms’ distance.
“Good morning, Dazai. What brings you here to the cafe?”
Fortunately, you weren’t a fool.
“Ah, rejection again, I see.” The pink background that blooms behind me seemingly shifts into a dark one as the man’s expression contorts into a mix of sadness and disappointment, all displayed in an overly dramatic way; his form is slumped, faux tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, and his lips are in a pout. The sound of a short (mirth) laughter is heard from you—you’ve gotten used to this sight of him, of his dramatic expressions, and flirty approaches just to ask you something ridiculous.
“I’m here for you.” He says.
(And persistent.)
You have witnessed evidence of his persistence expressed in his words and actions every time he’s free from any of his work and he comes to the cafe you work at (his definition of free is escaping from his responsibilities and choosing to slack off). He’ll always take the opportunity to hold your hand, whisper such affectionate words only one would say to their lover, and he’ll kiss your skin so gently as if it was made from glass.
That was what happened in the first meeting between you and him—first day on your work in this cafe and just as you were serving the order of this loud group that the owner is acquainted with, you caught the eye of the man covered in bandages and dressed in a somewhat messy yet orderly way. Then you know how it went and from then on, Dazai doesn’t let the chance to bother you slip from his grasp.
But you don’t fall for it, never would you. You’re not supposed to and you’re not going to. He has said such similar things to other people who he deems beautiful or attractive, he has touched others and tainted them with his caresses the same way he did with yours, his lips have felt the softness of others’ skin, not only yours. You’d be stupid enough to think that there’s something more lingering in the depths of his voice, something different that tugs at his tone and threatens it to break.
The two of you are just friends, maybe even less than that.
“Where’s Kunikida?” You ask him, eyes roaming around to look for a single strand of golden but there was nothing. You failed to notice the falter in the expression of the man before you, tension seeping into his features for a moment before it eases at the mention of another man’s name. You continue, “Are you slac—” only to be interrupted by the sound of the door chime ringing followed by a set of heavy footfalls.
A loud shout of Dazai’s name is heard, echoing off the brick-patterned walls of the place, as Kunikida enters. There was a furious look on his face, nose fuming as he spotted the one he was looking for and as soon as he did, Kunikida smacked the back of Dazai’s head. There goes it, you know how this would unfold, how everything would happen—you’re used to it, having already seen this scene enough times to tell how it would end: Kunikida will scold Dazai, calls him with a new nickname (it’s President of Wasted Bandages this time), drags him outside but before that, he’ll apologize on behalf of his co-worker’s behavior, and you’ll wave at them as they leave.
“Why do you always come to ruin good moments, Kunikida? Do you not wish to see me happy?”
“Happy?! Maybe if you stop slacking off, you'll be happy.”
You could hear their distant argument and you heave out a sigh when they disappear from your sight, the smile fading from your lips as the loneliness looms over your figure. Silence rests heavily on your shoulders and you ignore the ache in your chest.
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The cafe is located on the first floor where the detective agency is and you work alongside a waitress and a kind owner. Members of the agency are often seen frequenting the place, thus you’ve become familiar with their faces, memorized their names, and even learned some things about themselves. Honestly, it’s all simple for you; you have a nice and peaceful job (ignoring the chaos around you and the occasional disturbance from Dazai), and you’re being paid well. What else could you ever wish for? It was all serene for you.
Not this time though.
It seems like luck has run out for you seeing that you’re bound on the ground right at this moment, becoming a hostage to a small criminal group. Everything that happened prior feels like a blur, you remember men suddenly entering the cafe with guns and threatening everyone, you remember them hurting the owner, and you remember being taken away. They want to use you as bait, a guarantee for the detective agency so that they will bite and get lured into the criminals’ trap, or whatever they were telling you earlier. You weren’t listening—maybe you were but their words just passed from one ear to another—, hands curled into a fist as it trembled, the cold floor felt like spikes stabbing into your skin, and as the rope dug into your skin.
Afraid? Perhaps you were. It’s not everyday you get a gun pointed at you and a man threatening your life. Is this how you’re going to die?
You try to distract and ease yourself by thinking of other things, your mind drifting to somewhere else instead of staying at where you are—the cat that you occasionally see across the street, the passing cars you’ll see outside the window, the music playing from the vinyl in the cafe, the ringing of the chime as the door opens, and the dark-haired man and eyes that reflect the earth. Dazai with his never-ending tab, with his continuous ridiculous offers, his dramatic expressions, his stupid whims, the way he would always annoy you as if it was a daily requirement, his messy bangs that frames his face, his words that poke and probe at your being, and his—
You are snapped out of your thoughts, a familiar voice calling your name, coming into the stream of your senses, and pulling you out of the daze that you are in.
“Dazai?” Something is drowning in the pools of his eyes, lurking in the depths, and the way he looks at you is different. The usual calm in his expression is disturbed by a mixture of emotions—like rain droplets on a surface of still water—, anger, worry, care merging into the gentle lines of his features. Your hands that were once bound were free, though your wrists are left with marks from the rope bindings and you could still feel the way it burns on your skin.
“What happened? Why are you here? Are you hurt? Did you come alone? How did you find me?” Many questions came pouring out of your mouth but your voice trembles as you speak, tone unstable as the words fall and shatter on the ground. Dazai only lets you, your form crumbling and he holds your pieces in his hand, and he assures you: “Everything is alright.”
He continues, taking off his coat to wrap it around your form, “Were you scared?” And you meekly nod, knowing that your voice will only betray you. Dazai doesn’t say anything and only pulls you close to him, embracing you in his arms (“I’m sorry I took so long.”). There was the scent of his perfume accompanied with a trace of gunpowder when you buried your face on his chest—you feel a sense of relief, comfort and warmth that makes its way through your thoughts and the feeling of suffocation slowly leaves you.
He draws small circles on your back as he tries to soothe you, “You’re safe now.” He whispers as he kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a few seconds as he inhales the smell of your hair. (You’ve never had him this close before, this soft, this warm. It feels like the man you have known him as before were all fabrications from your illusive mind and the one before you is a different person.)
He brings your hand towards his lips and he presses a kiss on your pulse, right where the marks of your wrists are, ever so gently, ever so sweetly, “Nobody will hurt you ever again.”
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You descend down the flight of stairs leading to a basement—a bar tucked away and hidden in plain sight. You’ve only known of it all thanks to a certain blabbermouth, he said it’s his favorite place to go. When you arrive, the interior shifts to a dimly-lit one with warm lights illuminating the whole place in contrast to the dark and foggy street outside. There’s the sound of jazz softly playing in the background, setting the tranquil ambience the whole bar carries.
And there he is, the man of the hour, basking underneath the golden glow. Sitting on the stool by the end of the counter, he has a glass of whiskey settled in front of him.
“I didn’t expect for you to actually come.” Dazai speaks, his voice molding into the gentleness of the song playing.
“I was curious. Though I didn’t know you'd be here at the same time.”
“Come sit.” He pats the spot beside him and you follow. You order something to drink as you sit and a glass is served in front of you after a few minutes. Silence crept up to the both of you as you didn’t say anything—and you wish you could read his mind at this moment, to know the thoughts that plagues his mind—and the stillness was an unbearable kind;
You begin, “Do you always come here?”
Dazai takes a sip from his glass before he answers, “Just often.”
“I see.” And before the silence could last even longer, you spoke once more: “You haven’t been coming to the cafe lately.”
“Why? Did you miss me? Are you finally going to take up my—“
“No.” He muttered a small “aw” at your firm rejection. “You still have an unpaid tab.” And he groans at that while you chuckle, finding amusement in the way his expression crumpled.
The sound of your laughter dies down after a few moments, trailing off to a gentle mutter of an: “Thank you.”
“For?” He asks, even if he already knows what you’re talking about.
“For back then.” For giving you his coat as he noticed you shivering, for assuring you that everything is okay and you’re not going to be harmed anymore, for blocking your sight of the men’s bodies that laid like lifeless corpses on the ground, for protecting you.
It has been weeks since it occurred but you could still feel the warmth of his body against yours and maybe his scent will linger no matter how much you try to wash it, and maybe you’ll have to forever carry the thought, the wishful thinking that maybe there’s something more. And maybe it’s the alcohol making him light-headed but three words are whispered to the air that settles in the space between you and him.
“I like you.”
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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justalittlesolarpunk · 4 months
Note
hi! i love your blog :D do you have any advice to implement low waste and solarpunk aspects into everyday life with a tight budget? keep doing what you do!
Hi!
Thanks for asking - I’ve had this question before and it’s definitely a real problem. Organic, plastic free food is expensive. So is handmade durable clothing, and train fares these days. It can feel like only the rich can be solarpunks, which is pretty counterintuitive given its anticapitalist ideology. But! I’m here to tell you there’s lots you can do to bring solarpunk into your life in a cost-effective way.
To start with, lots of solarpunk spaces are free or cheap. Get a library card and you can borrow as many books and DVDs and other resources as you like. Look up to see if there’s a library of things in your neighbourhood, and join a buy nothing or stuff for free group online. Download TooGoodToGo, which lets you access food from local cafes and restaurants which would otherwise go to waste. See if there’s a repair cafe that operates near you - I managed to get a pair of trousers mended at one of these for free, and I had been thinking I would need to pay a tailor (which is fine if you can afford it! Skilled labour deserves fair wages!). In some places plant-based food is cheaper, so when it is, choose it. But in others it will cost more than animal products so you have to decide on a case by case basis whether saving money or a particular diet is more important to you.
There’s lots else you can do for minimal spending or that actually saves you money. Walking to work or school avoids the expenditure in the petrol for a drive or a bus fare. If you’re within walking distance and able to do so, I’d recommend it. Joining your local chapter of Extinction Rebellion, Friends of The Earth, Greenpeace, The A22 network or any other active climate group in your area is almost always free and just involves a small weekly time commitment. This will introduce you to activists and inform you about protests and public meetings you can attend.
If you have the time in your week and the physical ability, which I acknowledge many people don’t, you can also join some sort of volunteer group looking after a nature reserve or tending a community garden (which might also give you access to free or discounted food). Learning to forage is also a good skill as that really is free food!
Depending on where you are, a green electricity tariff *can* also be less expensive. If this is the case and you have control over your provider, it’s worth switching to it. Buying books and clothes secondhand will also be better for the environment and your bank balance. Teaching yourself about the climate and the natural world with podcasts, YouTube, online free articles and other resources is also free and the knowledge will help you keep solarpunk at the front of your mind. Read good news stories online whenever you can, to remind you that good things are happening already.
If you’re employed, you can also try to influence green policy at your workplace or in your trade union. If you’re at school or university, joining (or setting up!) the environmental society and/or lobbying for change at the SU are both good ideas and shouldn’t necessarily cost you anything. If you can - and I know this is inaccessible for a big swathe of the population - put a very small amount of money aside whenever possible, because the more you save the more you can afford to buy better products, donate to causes, help out the needy in your community, travel in a greener way, and other more expensive choices. It’s all about that dual power.
Hope this helps get you started!
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queenpiranhadon · 2 months
Note
Hello! You commented on my post about my dream request so here it goes...
Pro Hero! Dynamite is dating Underground Pro Hero! Y/N. He doesn't know she's a hero, doesn’t even know she has a quirk. She has a "job" where she can travel a lot; a model for Mitsuki & Masura (they know, because parent instincts). Anyway, YN gets sent on a lot of missions with Pro Hero! Deku since he's one of the few who likes working with everybody. Dynamite sees how close they are and is seething, and end ups turning it into a huge fight.
(i woke up at this point but pls make it comfort if you can)
thank you in advance!!🫶🏾🫶🏾
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A/N: Idk if this is what you wanted but I loved this prompt so much!! Big thanks to @zanarkandskylines for beta reading and editing this I owe you so much 😭 Here's my masterlist!
Warning(s): f!reader, Katsuki and reader are dating. and they live together, reader is an underground pro hero with a pre-established quirk, mentions of blood, Katsuki thinks reader is cheating on him with Deku, angst to fluff, characters might be a little ooc, mentions of passing out, reader cries a lot, Katsuki does too, Katsuki almost kicks reader out, cursing, Katsuki calls reader princess.
Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Underground Pro Hero! Reader
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•─────•°•❀•°•──── ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•
Shit. 
Pain flares up in your abdomen as you try not to think about the blood gushing out of your side, as the taste of iron lines your taste buds, making you want to vomit. 
You were on a mission with your close friend and pro hero, Deku, who you consider a friend till the end after endless mission assignments together. Your quirk, Rays, allowed you to control the lighting of any setting you were in- even if it were bright outside, you could plunge anything within a 100-mile radius into complete darkness if you chose to do. Along with that, you could illuminate anything within the same distance in the middle of the night. Your eyes would change colors while your quirk was active, growing lighter and darker with the lighting around you- a feature that allowed you to be hired as a model for Jiyū, a clothing company owned by renowned clothing designers, Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou. They joked that that lighting always favored you during photoshoots, capturing your eyes in such an alluring way that it was almost like you were the one who made the clothing look exceptional. They’d often drop hints that you would, in fact, be a perfect fit for their hotheaded son. You’d laugh at their insistence, waving off their jokes. They never would guess the reason behind your choice of career path, especially as a secret pro hero. 
You were an underground Pro Hero by the name of Sola – specializing in espionage and stealth, a major asset to Pro Hero Deku as you balanced his brute force with elegance and mobility. You loved your job, not ever having to need to be prominent on the Hero charts and found your reward through the knowledge that you were helping others. It was silly, you thought, to sneak around with a secret identity like all the books you read, unlike the Pro Heroes you knew that basked in attention. And even though you didn’t need people fawning over you 24/7, you still had one issue with all the secrecy. 
That being your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou.  
You loved him with your entire heart, and more, as he did you. The both of you got together a few months after the explosive blonde had graduated from UA, your relationship blowing up the tabloids with a bang as he climbed the hero rankings. 
You trusted him with your life, and he trusted you with his heart, and yet you couldn’t tell him about your job as an underground pro hero.  
This was one of the reasons why.  
You hid behind a pillar in the abandoned warehouse you had caught a drug network alongside Pro Hero Deku. The both of you were tracking the pricks for months, coming home late every night with a new excuse to tell Katsuki. You knew it would burden him with worry, choosing to keep your secret hero identity just that - a secret, even from Katsuki. He couldn't worry about you when he had his own job as a Pro Hero to worry about.  
Not to mention he wasn’t exactly on the best terms with the greenette you worked with constantly. 
The fight ensued, you heard Deku’s grunts and the cracks of bones, no doubt his One for All in usage. You manipulated the light around him, effectively blinding your opponents while giving your partner the advantage of sight.  
You were losing blood at a rapid pace, head becoming fuzzy as your body slumps to the floor, giving into the exhaustion from overuse of your quirk. 
The last thing you heard before the world turned black was Deku’s triumphant call for you, reporting that all the villains were restrained.  
When you woke up, you were in Izuku’s apartment, head hazy and your temples throbbed like they were being stabbed repeatedly by blunt needles.  
You got up without a word, thanking Izuku for his hospitality before leaving to go home, brushing off his concerns and walking out his front door.  
Anxiety gnawed at you on the taxi ride home, subconsciously fiddling with your shirt to make sure your bandages weren’t visible, and praying to whatever deity was watching over you that Katsuki wouldn’t notice.  
You reached your apartment complex, taking a deep breath and settling for a somewhat content look, before inserting your keys into the lock and opening the door, basking in the familiar warmth of your shared home. 
Spotting Katsuki at the kitchen stove, you creep up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, to which he stiffens, but you don’t think much of it as you tighten your arms around him.  
“I’m home!” You sing, smushing your cheek against him but he says nothing.  
Worry works its way through your mind, wondering why he wasn’t responding, until his gruff voice snaps you back into focus. 
“Where were you.” he says, phrasing it like a statement, not a question.  
Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach- does he know? Did Izuku tell him?  
Wh-what?” A nervous laugh escapes you. Had you been caught? “I told you, I was in the US -” 
“Cut the bullshit.” he snaps, and you let go of him – you can physically feel your heart snap in two. “Where. were. You." 
“I...” you trail off, the words caught in your throat, willing the tears that threatened to spill not to fall.  
You both stand there, wordless, staring at his eyes, full of pain.  
“You never even loved me, did you?” he says, voice cracking full of emotion, your eyes widening.  
“Katsuki no- I" You try to explain, but he cuts you off, the pounding in your head returning with the new rush of emotions.  
“Just stop. Please. Leave and never come back.” He spits out, tears finally dripping down his face. “Go fucking be happy with shitty Deku because obviously he’s a better fucking boyfriend than me.”  
He thought you were cheating on him. Those late nights coming home, prolonged trips without explanation- god you were so stupid.  
You rush towards him, mind racing as you try to explain, try to fix things. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t- it would destroy you in ways unimaginable.  
And yet, he pushed you away forcefully, making you cry out in pain as he contacts your wound in your side.  
He almost stops breathing when he sees the blood, your blood, on his hands.  
You panic, and he grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your shirt up to reveal the bandage wrapped around your torso that the blood managed to seep through.  
“Kats-” 
“Who fucking hurt you.” he growls, low and feral- all resentment from the previous conversation melting away with the realization that you weren’t with Deku – or at least in the way he thought.  
“I’m an Underground Pro Hero.” You whisper, a desperate attempt to mask your feelings as you curl into yourself. You can’t risk looking up at Katsuki and seeing his reaction. 
“You what- fuck, you have a quirk?!” He looks at you, eyes wide.  
You nod hesitantly, his vermilion stare meeting your own, attempting to assess what else you could be hiding from him. 
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you- the Commision wouldn’t let me, I wanted to tell you so bad Katsuki, but I knew you had so much on your plate, and I didn’t want to bother you, and-” you break down, Katsuki cutting you off as he encircles you in his arms, consoling you silently, letting your distraught form melt into his embrace.  
Heaving sobs turned into choking cries, which dwindled into sniffles that lead to silence. You’d drifted off, cried yourself into a sleepy daze while he carefully cradled you in the kitchen. His own guilt ate away at him- he understood your situation, the Commission was as unsympathetic to a hero’s situation as the League was to anything. But it still hurt, that stupid Deku knew about your status as a Pro Hero before he did. He shook his head, dispersing his feelings. He hated himself for his words, for assuming the worst and thinking you were capable of doing something so low. Running his fingertips over your bandages gingerly, a pang of worry struck through him. He wiped the tears off his face, and then yours, lifting your sleeping form and headed for your bedroom. 
Right now, he needed to take care of you.  
Changing you out of your clothes, he settles you into one of your favorite worn out shirts of his, tucking you into bed before getting ready to sleep himself. 
He joins you in bed, heaving a shaky breath after everything, wrapping his arms around you, one hand placed on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, holding you against his chest like you were made of porcelain - too scared to let you go, but scared of breaking you, too.  
“Goodnight, princess.” 
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sekhmetswrath-if · 10 months
Text
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The Wrath of Sekhmet is based on the 1999 film ‘The Mummy’ and follows the original story of Sekhmet to the best of my research abilities, but also includes highly fictionalised elements.
DEMO (01.09.23) | CHARACTER APPEARANCES
As the archivist of the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo, you’ve collected a lot of knowledge over the thirteen years you’ve worked there. Yet, there has been nothing that fascinated you more than the story of Sekhmet.
A goddess of love turned goddess of war with a bloodlust so deadly that her father, the sun god Ra, was forced to fashion a necklace that Hathor could wear in order to contain Sekhmet.
The necklace glittered with gold and diamonds, but it was the single ruby that sat nestled at her throat that was the real treasure.
Said to contain a drop of Ra’s blood, it was a gem so powerful that it could grant lesser creatures invulnerability when the necklace was worn.
And now, your brother thinks he’s found the legendary Temple of Sekhmet. A temple that was supposedly built to house the necklace.
This could be the adventure of a lifetime and you refuse to be left behind.
This is an 18+ wip due to violence, depictions of blood and gore, optional sexual content, death, elements of body horror, and abduction.
FEATURES
✧ Play as a female, male, or nonbinary mc with cis and trans options. Choose your pronouns and titles separately.
✧ Romance the suave archaeologist, the stoic leader, the bubbly best friend, or the calculating adventurer. Poly routes are available.
✧ Personality stats: sarcastic/genuine, stoic/emotional, reckless/cautious, grumpy/jovial, kind/indifferent, shy/bold.
✧ Skill stats: intelligence, charm, sword fighting, and agility.
✧ Set features of the mc: they’re at least half egyptian and as an archivist, mc is intelligent, studious, and knowledgable about history. While they can be grumpy and indifferent, there will not be the option to be unnecessarily cruel.
CHARACTERS OF INTEREST
Maddox [M]
The bane of your life and one of the only people you trust to always have your back. He’s more of a lover than a fighter and has a silver tongue that could get him out of any situation, but don’t underestimate his protectiveness over you. Older brother prerogative and all that.
Elijah/Elodie Caddel [M/F] [RO]
El is charismatic, quick-witted, and familiar with the temple of Sekhmet making them the perfect companion on your quest. However, for all their charm, they are notorious for keeping everyone but Aksel at a distance, so it is a surprise to all when they quickly seem to develop a deep fondness for you. As well as a wicked protective streak.
Menna Bakir [M/F/NB] [RO]
As a Medjai Chieftain, Menna is responsible for the lives of many. For that reason, they have learnt to show little emotion, although it is noted that they soften around animals and now it seems, you. Once their trust has been earned and they become more comfortable with your group, you’ll see a much more relaxed and even teasing side to them.
Nakia/Nubia Hassan [M/F] [RO]
N can be utterly ruthless when it comes to getting what they want for the museum, but with you they're almost always very bubbly and friendly. They're your childhood best friend and your biggest supporter, and without them, you wouldn't be taking this trip across the desert to discover the secrets that lie in wait.
Aksel Madsen [NB] [RO]
While they seem lazy and unbothered, it doesn’t take long for you to realise that there’s something not quite right about them. They’re too observant, too intelligent, and too calculating. Despite this, you wouldn’t class them as a bad person, especially not when you’ve seen the way they look out for El and, on occasion, you.
Poly routes
N/Aksel | El/Menna
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adnauseum11 · 2 months
Text
I.E.D. (John Price x Reader)
John breaks the news of his imminent departure.
2.2k words
CW: swearing, mild violence, alcohol
This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog as well.
Feedback welcome!
IED = Improvised. Explosive. Device.
Masterlist
Ao3
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It takes less than five minutes for John to completely eviscerate your plans after he returns from his phone call. He’s watching you absorb the news with an infuriating calm expectancy. You can feel your face flush, disbelief and hurt washing over you in equal measure. There’s a dull rushing in your ears, and you have to ask him to repeat himself as you slowly set down the wreath you are unpacking.
“I have to go, tonight, in a few hours.” 
He’s standing close, his hand smoothing over your shoulder and neck, tracking your reaction closely.
“What? You’re leaving? In a few hours?”
You can’t help the shocked whine in your voice as you process this news, even as you hate how needy it makes you sound.
“I can’t say too much but I’m required on a mission, love. I’ll be gone for a few days at least, probably a week.”
His tone is careful, mollifying, which only serves to heighten your distress.
“Out back in the field? You said you turned it down!”
“I did. This isn’t that.”
“Oh…right. Well, then by all means, that makes it fine.”
You can feel your face get hot and the prickle of tears behind your eyes, but you clamp down on that reaction like a dog with a bone. Anger is easier.
“Darling, I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear –“
“No shit.” 
You deadpan flatly. John has the good grace to wince, holding his hands up in placating gesture. 
“There’s extenuating circumstances here, love.”
“Since when are you still even entertaining these contracts?”
Your fists clench at your sides, the urge to swing something at his head building with every passing moment of this hideous conversation. You march away from him instead, hoping some distance will help your impulse control. He follows but wisely allows you some space. 
“I’m not, not really. This is different. It’s just… bad timing, darling.”
“You’re really leaving me here at Christmas, alone, with no plans and not even a job to go to? Seriously!? At least there would be other people at work, John! I wouldn’t be forced to be alone! Did you even consider me before you agreed to this!?”
“Darling, this wasn’t planned.”
“But you’re choosing to go.”
“I have to go, it involves me.” 
His temper finally makes an appearance, his whole demeanour becoming unyeilding.
“I’m sorry - I thought I heard you say you were involved. How the fuck are you involved in anything; you’ve been retired for a while now.”
You shake your head, trying to make his words fit with what you know of his life. John hisses a curse, his sudden discomfort with the topic setting off alarm bells in your head. 
“John.”
He drags his palm over his face in a gesture that belies his reluctance.
“John.”
“I’m involved in that it’s tied up with a mission I was on years ago. We thought it was put to rest and I guess… it’s not, anymore.”
He answers finally, his explanation sparse. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation, you can tell by the way he’s holding himself, his back and arms rigid. He rarely discusses his work with you, a topic you have by mutual agreement left well enough alone for years. Your anxiety means you can’t handle hearing the details without spiralling, and the nature of John’s work often precluded any details from being available, a situation that suited you both. Now you’re pulling teeth, trying to get to the bottom of this turn of events, neither one of you used to it. 
“And why do YOU have to go, why not someone else, who is active?”
“I’m part of the group they’re looking for.”
“Looking for.”
You deadpan again, the words sounding hollow as you repeat them back to him. 
“Darling, I can’t really disclose anything, you know that.”
“Right. But someone is looking for you.”
“Someone is looking for the men that were on my taskforce, hence why I am involved, yes.” 
John nods, his jaw tight. You pause to take in this tiny bit of information and a sudden bolt of realization hits you. The man in your apartment hadn’t stolen anything, he’d been looking for something. 
“Were they looking for you in my apartment?”
John’s face falls and you feel your stomach drop. His reaction tells you all you need to know. Some awful part of you can’t help but need to hear the truth from his own mouth, like running a finger over a bruise. 
“Suspect the break-in was related, yeah.” 
His tone is hesitant, but the words rankle all the same.
“Why are people looking for you at my apartment, not here?”
John refuses to answer, staring you down with pressed lips. 
“Why John?”
You repeat yourself forcefully, hands finding your own hips. You can tell the moment John decides to relent, whatever mental math he’s doing not adding up to his liking. 
“Looking for a way to scare me, is the assumption. Use you to hurt me.” 
He finally speaks, his gravelly voice low. A cold chill runs down your spine and you look at the man in front of you with what feel like fresh eyes. Danger lives closer to John than you had ever stopped to fully imagine.
“Were you going to tell me, or let me keep thinking it was a random break in?”
“Darling-“
He starts but stops immediately, reflexively scratching his whiskered cheek in uncertainty. You can read him like a book, instantly piecing together the reason for his hesitancy is he doesn’t like the way the truth sounds. 
“Oh my god, John, I’m so mad at you right now I could spit. What the fuck?”
“I just want you safe, that’s all that matters to me. I didn’t want to frighten you off.”
“So, moving me in here, talking me into quitting my job, all that was to do what?? Keep an eye on me?”
“I want you here. It also happened to be the safest course of action. Both things can be true. And I didn’t talk you in to quitting your job, I just stopped talking you out of it, love.” 
John’s uncharacteristically defensive, a wrinkle between his arched brows.
“You told me to rely on you! And now you’re fucking off over the holidays with no guarantee you’ll make it back! And I’m what – being watched or stalked or something?? And you weren’t going to say anything??”
This time you can’t help yourself from the impulse, grabbing the nearest reindeer figurine off the kitchen island and hurling it in his direction. John easily sidesteps it, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief at your eruption. You grab another figurine but John is on you before you can haul off and throw it, grabbing your wrist.
“Oi! Knock it off!” 
He barks at you, using a voice you’ve not heard turned in your direction before. You drop the deer on instinct but glare at him, your jaw jutting out in anger.
“I don’t have any confirmation that someone is watching you I just prefer to limit the possibilities for vulnerabilities when I’m not there to mitigate them.”
“Fucking speak English, John, I don’t speak military”
 You jerk out of his grip, putting some distance between you again. If you weren’t so agitated you would have an easier time of focusing on what he’s saying but it feels like your heart is sinking through the floor, heavy with disappointment and doubt. Another recent memory asserts itself, hitting you like a sucker punch.
“Oh my god, the pub? You kept saying you were concerned for my safety; I really thought you were just jealous.” 
You can feel the blood drain out of your face, your heart pounding as things slowly shift in to focus. The last few weeks were unrolling in a completely different context for John you are realizing. The sweet and protective gestures taking on a completely new layer of significance.  John holds his hands up, trying to ease closer to you again but you take another step back, feeling the kitchen counter behind you. John stops moving, the expression he’s wearing strange to you. He’s always so confident that the look of uncertainty is alarming on his face, making your thumping heart press against your breastbone painfully.
“I don’t know if that’s related. It’s unlikely. Like I said, nothing is confirmed. Just…playing it safe.” 
John admits, his face settling into worry.  
“You weren’t going to tell me any of this, were you? You were going to keep manipulating me. You just needed to keep tabs on me so I didn’t get caught up in whatever the fuck is going on.”
 It’s not a question, it’s a confirmation.
“That’s not true, of course I want you around. I love you, darling. You wanted to quit. I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do. I just made it safer.” 
John sounds a little desperate, the sound grating and unnatural to your ears. 
“I don’t want to be alone at Christmas, John! I didn’t even know it was a possibility for you to be gone until minutes ago! Now you’re leaving on a mission and I’m what? Just supposed to sit here until you get back? That’s not love, you didn’t consider me at all. If you come back. Oh god.” 
You feel a sweep of nausea and grip your stomach, pitching forward at the waist in discomfort. 
“When I come back, the threat will be neutralized. Not doing all this for fucking maybes.”
“Alright, you know what - yeah you, you should go.” 
You suddenly agree, crossing your arms over your painfully twisted stomach. You can’t remember the last time you were this upset with him, it’s been literal years. John curses under his breath, unable or unwilling to argue with you. He’s immobile, watching you intently for any clue as to your head space. 
“Darling –“
 He’s using a careful tone of voice and reaches for you again but it makes you flinch.
“Don’t John. Just go do what you need to do. It’s fine.”
“It’s clearly not fine, darling.”
He retreats, hands on his hips, and you can feel his eyes locked on your face. 
“For the purposes of this conversation, it’s fine.”
There’s an excruciatingly long pause before John responds, his voice soft. You refuse to meet his gaze, staring at the spot the missing reindeer should be in. 
“We’ll talk when I get back, yeah?”
You don’t answer, giving no indication you’ve heard him. Your insides feel like glass, one sharp breath away from shattering. Trying to reconcile the man standing in front of you, who’s been purposely keeping things from you with the man you’re in love with who bends over backwards for you is taking more brain power than you can summon. You’ll be damned if you cry in front of a man who is actively manipulating you. Taking your cue from the ceramic deer lining the island, you freeze in place. 
John either gets the hint or gives up because he leaves you in the kitchen, breathing carefully in the corner of the cabinets. You barely dare to move, everything feeling surreal. You eventually tuck yourself into your spot on the couch, buried under the blanket when John returns, his rucksack slung over a shoulder. He drops it at the door and you track it’s fall, determined to look at something other than the concerned man boring holes into you with his eyes.  
“I don’t want to leave like this. Talk to me please, love.” 
“Don’t, John. This is what you chose.”
“I chose to keep you safe the best way I know how. I didn’t choose for this situation to crop up now, it’s beyond my control. I love you darling, I’m not –“
“You say you love me but you don’t trust me, John. You don’t want to tell me things because your scared of how I’ll react. It’s not fair. You’re making choices that affect me too but I’m not part of the conversation. I just…I’m really pissed with you right now. And I doubt you have time to sort it out.”
You stay tucked under the blanket, your eyes finally meeting John’s across the expanse of the room. You can tell your point lands when his shoulders deflate, his posture shifting. 
“You’re right, I don’t have time.” 
He agrees, crossing the room to stop in front of you. You have to crane your neck to keep your eyes on his face until he bends to kiss you. You realize his intention and turn, giving him your cheek instead of your lips. His palm strokes over your hair before he backs off with a heavy sigh, scooping up his rucksack again. 
“We’ll figure this out when I get back.” 
John gives you one last reluctant look before he closes the door behind him. You can hear the lock turn, and your heart lurches, the finality of the sound chilling.
You spend the rest of the night on the couch, alternating between drinking a bottle of John’s expensive white wine and crying until your face is raw and hurting. You only briefly consider sleeping in John’s big bed alone, the idea so thoroughly off-putting you reject it nearly as soon as it crosses your mind. If anyone had asked you how you pictured your evening ending, face down in the couch cushions, drunk and alone wouldn’t have crossed your mind as a possibility. 
Next Chapter
Tag list:
@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch
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lesinquietes · 5 months
Text
Summary: It’s your turn to plan a second date. You choose to take him to the beach. As the sun sets and the tide shifts, so do your moods. You’re not the only one who thinks the temptation is torturous.
Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader
⚠️ mdni. fluff. katsuki is dominant. possessive behaviour. soft smut.
Previous l
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You decide that your second date will be an evening at the beach. You pack a picnic for the two of you, merely telling him that he better arrive hungry. His reply to your demand draws a gasp from your lips.
Katsuki: for what
You bite your lower lip. You want to flirt back. Should you? Being reserved will let him know you’re serious about dating him. Responding too loose might give him the idea that you’re easy. You don’t want to raise his expectations.
You: you’ll see :)
It’s innocent enough.
You meet him at six o’clock. You’re late a few minutes and you hope he doesn’t think you’re standing him up. Imagine, a pro hero as big a deal as Dynamight, getting soft rejected by an ordinary detective. The fangirls would lose their minds.
You park your car and hastily hop out of the driver’s seat. You scurry into the back, grabbing your knapsack, before slamming all doors and locking up tight. Your legs move faster than you can register, and you almost trip. Fortunately, you manage to collect yourself before you make a mockery of yourself. There are other people lingering around the park, having barbecues with family members or enjoying a romantic evening with their love. The last thing you need is to have that humiliation haunting the back of your mind the entire time.
You hustle up the grassy hill. When you get to the top, you scan the sandy plains. You don’t see him. Perhaps he’s running late, too.
The thought crosses you that he might be the one to stand you up. At least if that happens, no one will know but you. The betrayal will be hard, but you know a thing or two about how to cope with heartbreak. Better now than three or six months down the line, right? As your negative self-talk begins to escalate, you’re glad when the sight of him placates you.
He isn’t on the beach. He’s beside it, atop a bluff overlooking the water. You wave at him as you approach. He sees you from a distance and flashes you a salute. Standing in place by the bench, he waits for you to make the entire trek. You call out to him when you draw closer.
“Hey!”
“Hey.”
He opens his arms for a hug. Although a little surprised at the gesture, you don’t hesitate to receive his warmth. He pulls you close to his chest and holds you there for a few seconds. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. His cologne smells like woodsmoke, driving your senses up the wall with intrigue. Everything about him is so inviting.
When he releases you, there’s a small smile on your face. You can’t stifle it.
“What’s up?” He prompts you.
“Nothing,” you reply sheepishly. “Just happy to see you.”
Being forward isn’t usually your jam, but with Katsuki, it’s simpler to be honest. He seems to be transparent with you. The least you can do is afford him a modicum of trust. It’s not like he’s done anything for you to question his intentions.
Suddenly, you feel his fingers grasp your chin. You perk up. He’s gazing at you with a soft expression.
“Me too.” He confesses. “Been countin’ down the days. My buddy kept teasin’ me about it.”
Gratitude possess your soul. He told his friends about you. That’s more evidence to denote that he’s serious about this — about you.
He keeps you suspended in his grasp for a few seconds longer. You lick your lips. The tension between you is tight. It’s time he fixes that.
“S’it too early t’ kiss you?”
You shakes your head. Normally, yes; for him, no.
He folds his mouth against yours. The kiss is strong and domineering. He mashes his lips against yours and controls your rhythm. You have no choice but to conform. He doesn’t afford you any option but to obey him. You can’t lie; it makes you rub your thighs together.
When he breaks contact, his chest is rising and falling ferociously, as though he’s holding himself back from moving further. You glance behind you. He follows your gaze. You spy people in the distance, shrouded by trees — that’s it. If he wanted to, he could make his way up your neck, pressing his tongue on your pulse and holding it there are your heart throbs. It’s a shame that he can’t do that yet; he doesn’t have that sort of rapport with you. He settles for staring into your hazy irises.
He brushes his thumb over your lips. You smile beneath the digit. It’s a gesture that causes his heart to leap.
“How the hell d’you always manage t’ look so fuckin’ beautiful?” He mutters, starstruck. “I’m a lucky man.”
Katsuki doesn’t recall the last time he was fascinated by a woman. If he had to guess, it was one of his first girlfriends; though, he suspects that was because of his novelty to love. You’re different. The brand of interest he has in getting to know you is anchored by physical and emotional attraction. It’s not the result of a unique encounter, as much as it’s rooted in how well he receives your compelling nature.
“I-it’s really nice out here!” You exclaim, too shy to continue engaging with his flirtation. “I almost didn’t spot you!”
The hero grunts. He can tell that you’re dismissive of your worth. Whether it’s a trait you developed at a young age or something that was instilled upon you, he doesn’t like it. He’ll have to work on getting you to accept his reality.
“Yeah,” he says, releasing you to rub the back of his neck. “Did’j’ya bring a jacket? Gonna get cold when night falls.”
You nod. You packed a sweater at the bottom of your bag. It’s sweet of him to worry about you.
“Cool. I brought one f’r ya anyway.”
Your heart lights up as you thank him. It’s nice to have someone else looking out for you. It conveys a strong ethic of care on his part.
You shrug off your knapsack and reveal your plan to him. He spies a large quilt and several containers of food. You must have spent all morning preparing this meal. He feels bad he didn’t know to contribute. Next time, he’ll have Rikido teach him how to bake your favourite dessert to perfection, and then present it to you when he masters the recipe. You deserve to be spoiled.
He expands the blanket and sets it on the grassy cliff. You place the Tupperware containers on the fabric, along with their respective utensils. Finally, he produces two plates from your bag. Meal prep is complete.
“This looks fuckin’ amazing.” Katsuki marvel. “Didn’t know you knew how t’ cook.”
You laugh. Whenever you worked with him, you either didn’t find the time to eat or ordered fast food. When your life gets busy, you resort to an unhealthier routine. It’s a bad habit you’re trying to kick.
“Hope you enjoy it!”
He digs in. You watch as he takes some of your meal and plops it into his mouth. He hums approvingly.
“Not bad, princess.”
You beam at him.
“Thanks!”
As you eat, you talk about the days in between seeing each other. Eventually, the conversations shifts to what you want in life — your career goals, your aspirations. He reflects on yours before stating his. You’re fond of his ambition. He mentions being a hothead in his youth. You can’t imagine him being worse than he is today, though he assures you he was. He tells you he used to bully his now best friend. It took him years to come around to the idea that Izuku cares about him, that they’re both worthy of each others’ friendship regardless of past mistakes.
When he finishes his story, he’s gazing out at the ocean. The sun is setting. The waves are getting heavier as they crash against the cliff side. Enchanted, you watch with him as the earth’s cycle alters the ocean’s pattern. He cups your hand as you sit, squeezing it briefly. He doesn’t get to enjoy living in the moment very often. You make him face the present in ways he didn’t think were possible. It feels fresh and fundamental.
When the last of the sun dips beneath the horizon, the silence is killing you. Perhaps it’s your full stomach and satisfaction talking, but you want more of him. You give him a quick kiss on the mouth. He blinks; then, he frowns.
“The fuck was that?”
You smirk.
“A kiss.”
“Nah.” He insists. “Not good enough.”
He snatches your wrist and pulls you close. You land on top of him. He leans back to give you room. You don’t dare mount him; it’s too early for that. Instead, you hover over his body, lips mere centimetres from his. It’s a staring contest.
His hand strokes the length of your back. A shiver courses through you. Your nails dig into his bicep as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs a fistful of your hair and keeps you rooted in place, deepening the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with a thirst for unfamiliarity. You let him. He loves how you taste. He can’t get enough.
You moan when he parts from your mouth, chest heaving and head spinning. He’s abducted the air from your lungs. He gives you a moment to stabilize before diving in for more. This time, he pulls you on top of him. You’re nervous that you’ll be too uncomfortable, but he has no qualms about you straddling him.
You press your crotch down on his. He twitches beneath his jeans. You gasp naively, as though you didn’t believe your actions would have consequences. He wants you. Scarily enough, you’re starting to want him, too.
You grind on his package as you kiss him, permitting him to suck and bite your lips, swelling them to his liking. He wishes he could feel your mouth elsewhere, but he’s not so foolish as to suggest such a thing. This is more enough on a second date.
“Oh fuck, babe,” he growls. “Makin’ me so fuckin’ hard.”
He needs you to know how he’s feeling. His dick is hard and his thoughts are obscured. You have a right to understand the effect your body and mind have on him.
“I don’t wanna have sex,” you pant between his fierce onslaught of kisses. “Please, Katsuki.”
He isn’t pressed that he freaked you out. The teenage version of him, who couldn’t comprehend people, let alone women, would have lost his shit. He would have huffed and puffed and externalized his insecurity. Now, he sees past the confusion and accepts your plea for what it is — to see if he can provide safety.
“I won’t fuck you if you don’t want me to, princess.” He reassures you, looking you in the eye. “Y’hear me?”
You do — in more ways than one. You trust him to stop if you ask him to. He wants you to rely on him, and he’s trying to prove he’s a good man. You decide to accept his answer at face value.
“Y-yes.”
“Good. This okay?”
He lets you stroke yourself over his pants, occasionally glancing up to ensure no one is creeping. The last thing he wants is another scandal. Sure, you’re his woman — and he’s not ashamed of that — but he doesn’t want your debut to be a picture of you, soaked through your leggings, on display for all of Japan; moreover, something about others getting to witness you, in your rawest form, causes a bolt of fury to rise in his throat. He quells the impulsive anger and pours it into his movements. He helps you get off.
“Oh fuck,” you moan, gripping his bare shoulder with your nails. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Y’like this, sweetheart?” He croons, chuckling when he’s met with a desperate mewl. “Yeah, s’what I thought… keep goin’, baby.”
Vacantly, you ponder how this happened. First, you were enjoying a cute date together; now, you’re wordlessly begging for him in a deeply intimate way, praying he’ll lose control and just fucking slip it in.
But he doesn’t.
Dynamight doesn’t lose control.
You stop when you almost reach your peak. Rubbing your clothed clit along his erection beneath rugged fabric isn’t how you want to cum with him for the first time. Just like sex, you want it to be special. You can’t help but romanticize orgasms.
You yank yourself off him, breaking through his arm slung around your back. You feel him go limp, letting you rise. With his permission, you bolt upright, though don’t get off his lap. Your underwear is damp and you’re panting like a dog. You love how he made you feel. You sense a strong chemistry forming between the two of you — one you’re interested in exploring further. Before you dedicate to that aspiration, however, you have to make sure he’s on the same page.
“I don’t want this just to be sex,” you assert. “So if that’s what you’re looking for, we can’t go any further.”
You already feel yourself growing attached. You recognize the need to preserve yourself from the possibility of pain later. Expressing your needs has never come easy to you, but communication is the only way to make a relationship work.
Katsuki stares at you like you have two heads. He’s dumbfounded. He can’t fathom why you would think he isn’t interested in making you his woman. The only reason he hasn’t made a move yet is because he didn’t want to seem too eager. You’re an independent woman. You deserve to have the breathing room to do your own thing without pressure. But if you want to be tied down, he’s happy to seal the deal.
“You fuckin’ joking?” He growls. “Far as I’m concerned, you were my woman the second I laid eyes on your pretty ass.”
His hands spasm. An overwhelming urge to grab your asscheeks and rub your sweet pussy against his thick cock almost ruins his chances with you. He reigns himself in. He breathes a sigh of relief when you finally climb off him, sensing what your presence was doing to him. He can’t wait until he can do as he pleases with you — within reason, of course.
He sits up and dusts himself off. There’s only one thing on his mind. You can’t fault him; he’s merely a man and he can barely contain his budding lust for you. He’s learning to better admire you with each date. Besides, you make it easy when you wear outfits like that. It’s as though you know what turns him on.
“Interested in comin’ t’ my place next weekend?” The blonde asks boldly. “My shitty roommate’s goin’ away with his girl.”
“Sure.” You shrug. “Want me to bring anything?”
“Maybe an’ overnight bag.” He suggests casually. “If y’want.”
You do — and you will — but he doesn’t have to know that yet. You’re willing to trust him. If he betrays you, it’ll hurt. You’re not sure it’s a healthy relationship unless you’re both willing to make sacrifices and compromises, however; you hope he meets you halfway.
“I’ll text you when I get my work schedule.”
He isn’t phased by your dodge. He has a feeling you’ll show up to his place either a little duffel bag. Just in case, you’ll say adorably, and oh fuck, will he ever put you to work. He grins. Yeah. That thought’ll get him through the week.
“Sounds good.”
Together, you pack everything up. Lids are slapped onto Tupperware containers, and ziplock bags are secured. The quilt is scooped up and folded. When it’s all put away, you dust yourself off and get to your feet. Katsuki follows suit. It’s dark out now. Finding your way back might be a bit harder than anticipated. Fortunately, you have him to protect you. As if on cue, he slips an arm around your waist.
“Ready?” He asks.
You notice he has your knapsack slung lazily over your shoulder. You grab one of his idle hands and nod. You wish you could remain here forever, locked in this moment with him; it’s unfortunate that you have to leave. Mentally, you snap a photo of this moment.
“Let’s go.”
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sunkiss3dlily · 4 months
Text
to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part three | joel miller x reader
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Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3604
Summary: You find yourself in trouble with David and his people, and you decide to sacrifice yourself for the ones you love the most.
Note(s): Okay, you guys are gonna hate me but I decided to make it four parts as, once again, the third part became too long, but I promise, the fourth will be the last part! I hope this sets you up for the grand ending we are all waiting for haha! Thank you for all the support! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡
Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
Fiery orange embers adorned the stack of logs before you. David sat just behind them, opposite you, while the lifeless form of the prized buck lay on the floor, maintaining the distance between you and David.
"You weren't kidding about being a good shot," David complimented, rubbing his hands together by the fire he had made in the centre of the abandoned shack where you two had taken shelter while waiting for James to return with the medicine. "You must've had a lot of practice with a weapon like that, huh? Someone in your group teach you?"
You, for one, did not appreciate his attempts at small talk and straightened up, keeping your rifle balanced on your lap, aiming straight at him just in case. You rolled your eyes slightly, keeping an eye out for the other man, James, in case he tried to sneak up on you.
"You're not one to trust easily; I get it. I've been there." He nods, and you narrow your gaze back towards him. His attempt to relate to you did little to ease your skepticism. The flickering flames danced across his face, casting shadows that only deepened your suspicion. He let out a breath. "Do you believe in God?"
You let out a scoff of disbelief that he was asking you that question.
"I know, I know," he chuckled. "Weird time to find religion, especially with it being the end of days and all, but I've... I've seen and felt things—things that cannot be explained. It's like there's a force out there guiding me and protecting me." He notices your unamused expression and shrugs. "Call it what you want, but I choose to believe in God and his will, and by acclaiming that faith, he has shown me that everything happens for a reason."
An odd chill that isn't just the breeze of the cold wind rises on your skin, multiplying the goosebumps by a hundred. You shift uncomfortably in your seat.
"Like us, meeting in the woods today—maybe, just maybe, our paths crossed for a good reason. Perhaps our meeting was for a greater purpose."
You raise your eyebrows, yeah right. "What, like some divine intervention?"
David nods, his eyes filled with a glimmer of excitement that unsettles you to the core. "Exactly. Like some sort of divine intervention. Call it coincidence if you will, but I believe there is a plan in motion, and our meeting is a part of it. Maybe we are meant to help each other in some way. It may sound far-fetched, I know, but sometimes life surprises us in the most unexpected ways."
An exasperated sigh passes your lips, and it is evident that you are not playing into David's hand by opening up to him.
He clears his throat, sitting up, and this grabs your attention instantly, your hands tightening once more on the rifle. "I can prove it to you, if you like."
"Prove what?"
He smiles and gestures aimlessly: "I can prove that everything happens for a reason, that you and I were meant to meet each other this way."
You gaze back at him with a stoic expression, clearly unamused by the direction of the conversation. However, beneath the surface of your irritation, a subtle pulse of unease begins to intensify, growing more palpable with each passing second in this man's presence.
David leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, as if trying to imprint his words on your mind. "You see, we didn't expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing'll grow. The game's been hard to find, but I'm sure you know all about that." He paused, letting the weight of his words linger before continuing. "So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to scavenge what they could."
A shiver ran down your spine, and you tightened your grip on the rifle, sensing there was more to this story.
"And only three of them came back." David's eyes gleamed in the flickering firelight, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "The one who didn't make it was a father. A man with a daughter, just a teenager. Can you imagine the pain of losing your father in these times?" He let the question hang in the air, studying your reaction.
Your heart raced, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as your thoughts unconsciously wandered to Ellie and Joel.
"You see," he continued, leaning back slightly but maintaining an unsettling gaze, "it turns out he was murdered. Murdered by this crazy man."
Another heavy pause lingered in the air, his words sinking in, and you could sense the direction this conversation was taking, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
"And get this." David's tone took on a chilling cadence. "That crazy man was traveling with a little girl and a woman that looked just like you."
In a swift motion, you rose to your feet, rifle poised, and aimed squarely at him, your finger coiling around the trigger.
A contented smile painted itself across his face, and he playfully shook his head in amusement. "See? Fate has a way of guiding us."
Your heart raced, a symphony of adrenaline orchestrating its frantic beats as the thought of Ellie having to defend herself and Joel against who knows how many of those men right now consumed you. "You've been watching us all this time?"
David casually brushed aside the notion with a nonchalant shake of his head. "No, not at all. Just you, just today, just by chance. You see, it wasn't planned, but here we are nonetheless."
The panic inside you was something you hadn't felt in a long, long time. You felt utterly terrified, though your tone was angry as you gritted out, "Where the fuck is your friend? If he's so much as—"
David's eyes glinted with calculated charm as he interrupted your brewing anger with a sly smile. 'I told you, we are not here to cause you or your little girl any harm. We can protect you, both of you. Isn't that right, James?'
You turn rapidly, only now noticing James standing in the doorway, rifle raised and trained on you. You wish you'd had the common sense to remove the bullets when he left. Taking a step back, you aim the rifle back at David but keep your eyes trained on James. "Shoot me and I'll take your fucking preacher down with me."
James glares back at you, though his hold on the rifle is shaky. "You killed Alec."
"She didn't kill anyone, James," David calls, redirecting the taller man's attention back to him. "Lower the gun."
James looks as though he is going to argue, but David shakes his head, and so James concedes.
"Did you bring the medicine?" You ask, keeping your gaze flitting between both men equally so neither of them can catch you off guard. James nods his head once under the watchful eye of David. "Toss it over here."
To your surprise, the bag is tossed your way almost immediately, and you clutch it desperately in one hand, feeling the bottles and syringe against your icy fingers as your heart races. You take a few steps back, watching them both cautiously.
"He's sick, isn't he? The man?" David speaks with a feigned sincerity as he moves to stand up. "You know, he's the only one we need. You and the little one can make it out unscathed if you just hand him over. It's not like he's going to make it out anyway."
You ignore his words, stepping back slowly, the snow hitting you almost immediately as you make it out of the shack. You gesture your gun towards both of them, "I'm leaving, and if I ever see either of you again, I'll fucking kill you."
"It doesn't need to be like this," David calls, still trying to persuade you despite your threat. "You and your daughter can join us, no questions asked. You still have a chance."
You fire a warning shot at James' boot, the impact jolting him with pain. His rifle reacts, rising in response, but you're already hurtling back through the trees. Desperation fuels your every step as you race through the clearing, the silent prayer to any deity echoing in your mind – a fervent wish that Joel and Ellie will still be alive when you reach them.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
You descend the basement steps with ragged, labored breaths, catching Ellie off guard as she tends to Joel's semi-conscious form, gently offering sips of water.
"Where the fuck were you?" Ellie demands, her red-rimmed eyes reflecting her worry. "You were gone for hours!"
You shake your head, having no time to properly respond, dropping to your knees beside the mattress where Joel lies. You lift his coat and shirt, revealing the wound that looks even worse than before.
Ellie abandons her attempts to moisturize Joel's lips, watching as you retrieve a syringe and a bottle of penicillin from the bag James gave you. "What is that? Where did you get it?"
"Penicillin. It'll help with the infection," your breathing is shaky, and you can tell your demeanor unsettles Ellie. Ignoring her second question, you are too panicked to care. "Shit. Where do I put this?"
Ellie looks at you, dumbfounded, before turning to Joel and shaking his shoulder gently. "Hey, man, where do we put this? Joel? Joel!"
You draw liquid into the syringe while Ellie attempts to wake Joel, desperately wracking your brain for any inkling of an idea on where to administer it. However, the looming threat of David and James has put you on high alert, making it challenging to think straight. With an unsteady breath, you declare, "Okay. I'm gonna put it in the wound."
"Yeah, o-okay," Ellie nods, not entirely confident in your idea. "You got this."
Her words, albeit sweet, do nothing to reassure you.
"Fuck," you mumble, reaching over to clasp Joel's limp hand in yours. "Please don't let this be the thing that kills you."
His hand twitches slightly as you make contact, but you are too preoccupied with angling the syringe correctly to notice.
You press down onto the plunger as the syringe makes contact, and Joel's hand tightens on your own, weakly, yet the first proper sign of life in so long you could weep. "I'm here," you murmur, more for your own assurance. You made it in time."I'm sorry," an apology for the pain you are causing him physically, but secretly an even bigger apology for him being the injured one. If it had been you, you wouldn't want them risking their lives like this for you. You'd want them to move on, but you couldn't, and wouldn't, stop trying for him. For him and Ellie.
He groans faintly, and his grip on your hand loosens entirely as you finish plunging the medicine into his wound, steadily retracting the syringe and covering him back up, tucking him under his coat carefully. You lay a hand over his forehead and feel he is still quite hot, but hope that the medicine will start fighting against his fever soon enough.
As you settle down onto your knees beside the mattress with a shaky breath, you look up to meet Ellie's eyes. "No one came here while I was gone? You didn't hear anyone outside?"
"No," she shakes her head, her eyes filling with that familiar fear that you've only seen a few times in her usually bright eyes. "We're not safe here, are we?"
You breathe out shakily, debating on whether to lie or be honest. You slowly shake your head, deciding that it was best for her safety if she knew what was really going on. "I met two men in the woods. They knew who I was, what Joel did to that man. They were members of his group."
"They want to kill us?" Ellie asks after a beat of silence, looking down at the floor to avoid your gaze and to avoid you noticing her fear.
"Not us," and that is all you need to say for Ellie to understand.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
You administered another dose of penicillin to Joel's wound after a couple of hours, fumbling blindly in the dark. As you repeated the motion of clasping his hand in yours, you felt the familiar warmth of his grip in return. This time, it seemed just a little bit stronger, though that might have been your exhausted and desperate mind playing tricks on you.
"You'll wake me if anything happens, right?" Ellie's voice cut through the darkness, causing you to visibly flinch as you were checking Joel's temperature, your hand tensing against his cool skin. She seemed to sniffle before speaking again. "You won't just leave?"
Clearing your throat softly, you replied, "I won't just leave, I promise. But you need to get some rest. We might have to start moving tomorrow, whether Joel is ready or not. We'll have to make our way back to Jackson to get him some proper help."
Silence followed, and you found yourself lying down beside Joel, shuffling as close to him as the floor allowed.
"Are they going to come for us?" Ellie's voice startled you a few minutes later. You did your best to calm your racing heart before responding. "I don't... I don't know. They might try, which is why we need to start moving as soon as possible."
"You didn't kill them? The two men."
You sighed, closing your eyes. "No, I didn't."
"Why not?"
You didn't know. Something niggled at you with the realisation that maybe you should've.
"Goodnight, Ellie."
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
Sleep eluded you that night, despite pressing close to Joel and feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palm. Even the reassurance of your rifle's presence, just a quick flex of your fingers away, failed to bring the peace you sought.
As the morning rays beamed overhead, the burden of exhaustion settled throughout your body. Yet, giving up wasn't an option—not now, not after everything.
Drawing another dose of penicillin into the syringe, you administered it into Joel's wound with an exhausted expression. Closing your eyes, you pressed slowly down on the plunger, dozing for a moment until you felt fingers wrap around your wrist.
It was so gentle that it barely phased you until you finished pressing the plunger down. Opening your eyes, you found a large hand clasping your wrist. Without much hesitation, you wrapped your free hand around Joel's hand and looked at his face, relief blooming in your chest.
'"Joel," you whispered softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping Ellie next to him. His eyes were half-lidded, maybe even less, but they remained fixed on you. Squeezing his hand gently, you observed as his lips parted, though no audible sound emerged. "It's okay; you're okay. Just rest. We're right here. I'll get you through this, I promise."'
After covering his wound and tucking the coat back around him, you released his hand and settled back down beside him. His head turned in your direction, eyes still open, and he gazed at you with an expression that eluded your understanding. Yet, you could discern a softening of his features as he looked in your direction, as if looking at you brought him some comfort.
His fingers twitched in the corner of your eye, and upon closer inspection, you found them almost outstretched. Gently reaching down, you intertwined your fingers with his, and he responded with a reassuring squeeze.
Tearfully, you lowered your head and pressed it against his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his on the mattress. "Thank you for holding on," you murmured into his shirt. "Just a little longer, okay? Just until I can get you back to Jackson."
You feel him nod, and as you look up, you notice his eyes are beginning to close fully once more. You squeeze his hand, and for a moment, you feel his cold thumb gliding along the back of your palm in a soothing motion until he falls back to sleep, his hand still in yours.
Smiling faintly into his shoulder, you follow him into the realm of sleep.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
The frantic call of your name jolts you awake, tearing you from the easiest slumber you've experienced in days. Instantly, you sit up, watching as Ellie races down the staircase, mirroring the urgency you displayed just the day before.
"Ellie? What's happening?" Your voice, thick with sleep, responds, momentarily forgetting the looming threat of David and James.
She clutches Joel's rifle, urgency etched across her face. "They're here, the raiders. There's a whole group."
Panic courses through your veins as you quickly shake off the remnants of sleep, your mind racing to formulate an action plan. "Did they see you?" She looks too panicked to respond, her gaze fixed on the staircase. "Ellie? Focus! Did they see you?"
"No, no, I ran back here before they could." Ellie blurts out, her eyes flicking back up the staircase. "They've got guns and—fuck, my footprints. They're going to track us here."
You know she's right.
"I'll lead them away," you decide almost immediately, moving to stand up but stopping when there is a light tug on the bottom of your coat. You turn, seeing Joel looking up at you with an intense desperation in his eyes. He struggles to speak, just like before, but with the way he shakes his head, you can already tell what he is trying to convey. "I have to, Joel. I have to! I'll... I'll lead them away, and if... if I don't come back, then that'll give you both enough time to get on Callus and start back to Jackson."
His eyes plead with you, but you turn away, and Ellie's face is panic-stricken in the same way.
"They'll fucking kill you!" Ellie argues. "We need to stay. We can't go without you!"
"You have to, Ellie. You have to."
Another firm tug on your coat, and you turn back to look at Joel. His eyes are watery, and his mouth opens, but all he can utter is, "Stay."
You shake your head, fighting back your own tears. "It's going to be okay. I'll... I'll find my way back to Jackson somehow."
He shakes his head, and you bite your lip to hold back a sob. You reach down, intertwining your fingers. He holds them without a second thought, and then you squeeze.
Once. I.
Twice. Love.
Thrice. You.
Through your tears, you manage a smile as his body tenses in realization. Before he can react, you gently pull away from his grip and stand up, taking your rifle in stride. You can't bring yourself to look back at Joel, even as you hear him attempt to utter your name numerous times in a hoarse voice. It's torture, but you force yourself to hold back.
"Ellie." You stand in front of her, and she avoids meeting your eyes until you gently place a hand on her shoulder. That's when you notice the tears swimming in her eyes. "It's going to be okay, okay?"
Her lip wobbles, but she nods, replying shakily, "Yeah."
"You're so special, Ellie. You're going to change the world; I already know it." You assure her softly, cupping her cheek. She leans into the touch—the gentlest she's ever known. "But do as I said, alright? Don't you dare follow me. Stay with Joel, give him another dose of the penicillin, and get both of you back on Callus if I don't make it back. Then, just get the fuck out of here. Don't look back, okay? Not for a second."
She attempts to say your name in a pleading tone, but you silence her with a shake of your head.
"Promise me, Ellie," you implore. "Promise me that you will not follow me, please."
She nods, and her lip trembles so much that you can't resist pulling the teenager into your arms. One of your arms wraps around her shoulder, while your other hand rests against her ponytail, running your fingers through her dark locks as if for the last time. Neither of you had ever embraced each other before, but it feels right now. Ellie means something to you now. Joel means something to you now. You have to do this for them.
"I have to go," you murmur, gently pulling away from the hug. Ellie frantically wipes away the tears sliding down her cheeks as you smile sadly at her. Without finding the strength to turn around and say a proper goodbye, you rush up the staircase, closing the door behind you. Leaning against it, you let out a soft sob, grappling with the thought of never seeing either of them again. Yet, you'd rather have them lose you than for you to lose them. You scan the room hurriedly, searching for something to block the door and buy them some time.
Your eyes land on a heavy-looking wooden table pushed against the wall. With a surge of adrenaline, you grip the table's edge, your muscles straining as you drag it towards the door. The weight feels immense, but you refuse to let it defeat you. Sweat beads on your forehead as you finally position the table in front of the door, wedging it against the frame as best you can. It may not hold for long, but it's all you can do in this moment.
Pressing your hand against the door as a silent goodbye, you make your way out of the house, determined to end this.
©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.
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tsuy4n · 4 months
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Finally onto the last one! After this I'm gonna go back to lurking (I don't trust my own words).
Cutie patootie x Unstable/Unhinged, (add more and name the dynamic urself!)
[Leo] [Donnie] [Raph] >Mikey<
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*sneaking in the snack bar*
[Y/n]: Okay, let's go.
Mikey: Wait! *points finger* It says no trespassing.
[Y/n]: Bro there's only dos of us, not tres.
Mikey: ...Bro
Mikey: Did you know that when breaking a bone, it typically will heal back stronger than before?
[Y/n]: So what you're saying is I should break every bone in my body until I become invincible?
Mikey: Please don't.
Raph: You lied?
Mikey: We may have.
Raph: You may have or you did?
[Y/n]: We may have did.
Mikey: Tell me the scariest horror story you know.
[Y/n]: Life without you bro.
Mikey: Bro.
[Y/n]: Bro.
[Y/n]: *after tracking down, beating up a couple of villains and setting their hideouts on fire*
[Y/n]: As long as I strike fear and terror into the hearts of my enemies what does it matter what my 'gender' is.
[Y/n]: I don't identify as a 'male' or 'female' I identify as a fucking threat.
Leo: *nods* Don't mess with Miguel, noted.
Raph and Donnie: *nervously agrees*
[Y/n]: It costs $400 to go see a therapist, it cost $0 to tell myself it be like that sometimes.
Mikey: *softly* no.
[Y/n]: Here's a fun idea. We hang a mistletoe but instead of kissing the person underneath, we have to fight them.
Donnie: That's kinda dumb.
Raph: Exactly, so we are not doing that–
Donnie: Though at the same time interesting and kinda fun! Winner gets to obviously ask the loser whatever they want!
Leo and Mikey: *nodding* Mistlefoe.
Raph: Stop encouraging them!
Raph: I'm in.
[Y/n]: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?
Mikey: What?
[Y/n]: I want to be on Buzzfeed unsolved.
Mikey: Can we go back to the part when you said "When I get murdered"?
[Y/n]: *trying to flirt* I really like your name.
Mikey: *smiles brightly* Thanks! Splint's the one who gave it to me.
Leo: *whispering into [Y/n]'s ear* Are you sure you want that one?
Mikey: I think I'm in love with [Y/n].
Raph: You think you are?
Donnie: You just ranted about how perfect their smile is for over half an hour.
Leo: *pats Mikey's head* We know you do, lil' bro.
Mikey: How do you feel about art?
[Y/n]: I mean, you're pretty cool.
[Y/n]: Without you, 60 minutes feels like an hour.
Mikey: Aww, how cute!
Donnie: *From the distance* The fuck?
Leo: I accidentally ate Mikey's sandwich. How long do you think I'll have to live?
[Y/n]: *calmly* 5.
Leo: five what?
[Y/n]: 4.
[Y/n]: You seriously need to calm down.
Mikey: But how can ice cream be birthday cake flavor if birthday cake can be ANY flavor???
[Y/n]: Huh...you actually do have a point there.
Villain of day: I'm going to kill you!
Mikey: Hold on, let me ask [Y/n].
Villain of the day: It's not a choice-
Mikey: They said no. *smiles* And they're on their way here!
Mikey: *realizes* I think you should start running.
Donnie, Leo, and Raph: *nods in agreement*
Mikey: I love you!
[Y/n]: I trust you.
Mikey: *confused*
[Y/n]: That's bigger to me than "I love you".
[Y/n]: *Dramatically watches rain fall through the window* We're born alone and gonna die alone.
Donnie: *Done* Mikey literally just left to get pizza.
[Y/n]: I am clearly not cut out to help make people life choices.
Mikey: Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. You helped me choose you!
[Y/n]: Okay, that time I was a genius.
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A Table of Contents to all my CoD Men x Reader Fics
My shit was getting disorganized as fuck, so I collected everything I've typed on here and put it into a single post, just to make it easier to find my stuff if you ever choose to. User Accessibility matters!
Note - All of this is 18+ and Mature, but not all of it is Smut
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SFW/Fluff // Masterlist
The masterlist to all of the SFW/Fluff One-Shots for Ghost x Reader.
No Good Men Left To Spare // Masterlist
No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. After pushing one too many of his buttons tonight, you and Ghost going off to have a quick smoke turns into something else entirely.
Make Me Beg
Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.
Greedy
Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap
Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.
The Lights Stay Off
No Summary :(
NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarrassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky
Ghost Fan Edit
My thirst for this man is endless. I've been thirsty since I was 11 and first laid eyes on him in 2009. He just gets finer each year. I don't think I'd have my mask kink without him.
Now you get to see how rhythmically challenged I am. These are fun to make; once I get better at them I'll be unstoppable (`∀´)Ψ
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I Won't Forget
Short Drabble ~ Your last night with Johnny...
Can You Spot Me?
You decide to reward Soap after finishing a set on the bench press.
NSFW 18+, Explicit, Shameless Smut, Porn w/out Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Teasing, Fluff, Flirting, Cunnilingus, Blow-Jobs, Cowgirl, P in V, Might be a little tame, but still Graphic Description, no Y/N usage
Greedy (same story as above one in Ghost's section)
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Speedracer
Gaz x Reader x Soap
It's not every day Gaz gets to drive fast cars. It's also not every day he gets to race hot strangers on the road either.
SFW, Some swearing, Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Racing, Three-Way flirting, Random, Innocent, Some Car Lingo, Soap and Gaz sharing a single brain cell, Eventual smut in part two, scarcely proofread
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Been In Love
After a breakup, Price figures a walk along the beach might make for a good distraction. What he did not expect to find was a strange woman standing off to the shore, who looked as though she were about ready to drown herself at sea.
pt. 0 | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
Bloodstained Honesty
Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
Sex Tape ~ Kinktober Prompt
No summary (._. )
NSFW (18+), Shameless Smut, Explicit Detail, Groping, Fingering, Nipple-Play, Oral (Female Receiving), AFAB!Reader Long-Distance, Sex Tape, Scarcely Proofread, Kinktober
Some Days
Drabble ~ Price has a tendency to wake up most mornings before you...
SFW, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Innocent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mornings, Wife Reader, Soft Price, Price is a little mopey, scarcely proofread
Let Me Play You A Song
During a get-together, you and the Captain decide to sneak off for a spell. The intentions were mostly pure. At the start...
Captain Price Fan Edit
My first time making a video like this EVER (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩). It came out more like a trailer than an edit, but I had so much fun making this. I really hope you like it! *totally not nervous* ( ◜◡‾)
Captain Price Fan Edit 2
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Control Masterlist
Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Angst, Romance, Drama
You’ve been with Shadow Company long enough to know working alongside 141 on their search for the stolen American missiles wouldn’t be an ordinary assignment. And most importantly, you knew Graves. Shadow Company keeps its allies close, and its enemies closer. When you’re given a job, it gets done without conflict. Without loose ends.
Your true mission is clear to you -- keep an eye on 141 and keep them comfortable. Anything it takes to alleviate suspicion of Shadow Company’s involvement with the missing missiles. This wasn’t about saving lives, this was a deadly game of control, and you intend to do so flawlessly.
Phillip Graves Character Trailer
Deepthroating ~ Kinktober Prompt
Drabble - You decide to pay your commander a little visit during one of his later nights in the office...
Welp, that's that. Thanks ( .-.)
...
Here are links to some of my gaming clips if interested (shameless plug)
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
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jewishvitya · 30 days
Text
I posted this with my art but I'm putting it on its own.
Things I imagine in YOI pre-canon. These are personal headcanons and interpretations.
With Viktor, I imagine his family being high achieving, and Viktor having a lot of expectations on him. And he matches then successfully. But this means his parents think he's doing well, even in moments where emotionally he isn't. They look at achievements rather than looking at him. It's not intentional neglect, they just don't have the awareness of mental wellbeing. He has a bed and food and he's doing well in school and skating, so everything must be okay. It's fine when he's fine, it's lonely when he's not. And it's the first environment that teaches him to match himself to what's expected and wanted of him, fulfilling a role rather than just being.
When he's older, he quietly creates distance. Not cutting them off, but not reaching out. They don't mind. They follow news, and they can show off his success.
When he's young, Viktor loves having fans and being known and admired. Af first he doesn't see downsides to it. And then something happens, as simple as "did you see him throwing the flower at Christophe Giacometti? He was flirting, how cute" - and Viktor realizes his fans will draw their own conclusions and won't believe him if he tries to say they're wrong.
So he starts adjusting his approach. Building a persona, and building walls. Charming smiles that get him anything he wants. Practicing the skill of giving people what they expect. Being what they expect. And then flipping it on its head and surprising them.
If you're focusing on matching and subverting expectations, you're not necessarily being yourself. Any personal exploration of identity is hidden and alone. But on the ice, when he's performing, he can be honest. He can be seen. Because they're going to take it as fake. Think of how Minako reacted to Stammi Vicino - Viktor's earnest plea for someone to stay by his side, well, he's too charming for this to tug at the heartstrings. So he can play with stories that he won't share with anyone any other way, and he knows they'll take it as pretend.
The walls he builds don't allow him to be truly close to people. He has good relationships with other skaters, but emotionally keeps them at arm's length. He doesn't notice he's isolating. Chris and he have fun joke-flirting, but when Viktor steps away from the ice Chris doesn't seem to realize he needs this, isn't close enough to know what he's struggling with. He talks like Viktor is taking away the motivation he's entitled to by choosing to coach Yuuri. His rinkmates see him on good and bad days so they know when he struggles, and Yakov is the only person close to knowing him deeply, but even he doesn't take it seriously when Viktor burns out, so that is still limited.
For Yuri, I think his mother was going through a lot to let his grandfather take care of him. He has a lot of responsibility in that setting, and it all starts when he's so young.
I think, with Viktor being present in his life consistently from such a young age, Viktor is one of the people he sees as family. He absolutely looks up to him, just like he absolutely looks up to Yuuri. And I think he resents the emotional distance Viktor maintains.
He's not very attentive to people in general, but he's the one that explains to us how Viktor feels early in the show. When Viktor left to Japan so suddenly, I think Yura felt abandoned beyond just Viktor forgetting to choreograph a program for him. If it was just the program - he did end up getting Agape, he could have just asked for that, but he tried to get Viktor to go back. I feel like he hates that Viktor went to look for a way to get his spark back somewhere else, instead of staying and finding a way out of his slump with his rinkmates. If what Viktor needs is to coach someone, why isn't Yuri good enough? He's a talented skater and he sees himself as continuing Viktor's legacy, but Viktor chose someone else for that role.
And Viktor did choose Yuuri to continue his legacy. Because Yuuri skates so beautifully, because Yuuri has so much love for Viktor's skating, because Yuuri has drive and ambition and pride and skill and he finds joy in skating, and Viktor wants to nurture all of that into the performance Yuuri deserves to show.
And along the way, he learns how to connect with people as himself. His relationships with Yuuri and Yuuri's family open doors for him to better and deeper relationships with Yuri and Chris and anyone else he wants to be close to.
About Yuuri, there's very little I can say because we know so much. So I'll just share a lighthearted headcanon a few friends and I came up with as a story idea and I just adopted.
I don't share the fanon that Phichit got him into pole dancing. In my mind, he either started himself, or it was Chris - unintentionally. I think they're friends, because of how Yuuri reacted to him in the show, like he's used to him. And I like to think Chris kept saying things that made Yuuri feel competitive. Talking about how it's great for core strength, "but it's probably not your thing." Sent pictures of himself performing difficult moves, and got pictures back because Yuuri was trying to match him or do more difficult things than him. And meanwhile Chris thinks they're showing off to each other for fun. It's how Chris knew Yuuri can keep up with him at the banquet.
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