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#you know he's the one when ur eyes match his hair identically
spanishinfluenza · 2 years
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Forks' resident hottest couple
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kpdlvr · 1 year
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heyy :)
I love your writing, so I wanted to try making a request
could you do one about Sonny? Maybe where the reader is a famous actress or singer? Thank youu ❤️
ur the first request I’ve ever gotten so tysm! I really hope u like it and pls don’t be shy to request more! sending a big hug^^
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Word count: 0.8k apologies if it's too short :(
Pairing: Sonny x Famous Actress fem!reader
Warnings: none, just some cute fluff and reunion<3
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Time seems to go by the slowest it’s ever gone. 
Glancing once more at the time displayed on your phone, you let out a nervous sigh, adjusting the mask and baseball cap you wore on your face to protect your identity.
It was the early morning hours after the World Cup Match between South Korea and Ghana. The exclusive hotel lounge room you sat in was almost empty except for a few people and bar staff. Looking through the sky lounge view to see the city’s bright lights couldn’t help but get you lost in your own thoughts.
Sonny had no clue that you had come to surprise him during the world wide event, but after today's loss for South Korea, you felt even more certain that you still needed to support and cheer on your man in person. 
Being a pretty well known and famous actress meant that your dating and personal life was always in the spotlight before your acting skills. When you first started dating pro football player Son Heungmin, you knew that you had to keep your relationship a secret for the sake of both yourselves.
With the help of arrangements made by the staff and managers of both sides, you had just one short week to stay in Qatar with your boyfriend of four years. A room was booked at the same hotel where Sonny and his teammates were staying, letting you spend some much needed time with him.
“Would you like a refill of your tea miss?” a waiter passing by asked you, giving him a no thank you and assurance that you were fine. You were far too nervous to be reunited with your man.
With you asking Sonny’s personal manager to let him know you were here at the hotel, all you could do was wait and see what your boyfriend’s reaction would be. You knew that he missed you just as much as you did, but would also feel guilty about making you take time out of your busy film schedule for him.
You’re patiently waiting until you feel a tap on your shoulder, eagerness getting to the best of you and making you turn around expecting to see Sonny.
The expression in your eyes diminishes just a bit when you see a small girl standing behind you with a pen and notebook in hand, appearing to be just eight or nine years old. 
As she hands the notebook to you, her eyes light up when she carefully examines your hidden face. “It is you, right? Are you not the actress Y/N Y/L/N?” she gleams.
You push down the smallest feeling of disappointment, instead replacing it with a happy and welcomed feeling as you nod softly, sending the little fan a smile. 
Ruffling the girl’s bangs, you write a quick signature on the page, beaming at your fan.
“Don’t tell anybody I’m here, promise?” You say, watching as the girl nods her head and thanking you for the autograph with a huge smile.
You’re watching her dash away with a small ache in your heart, before you finally see the figure of the man you waited for in the corner of your eye. The man stares at you, his heart clenching and moving a beat faster at the loving sight of yourself. 
Sonny stands there with tired eyes, unruly hair, but the biggest smile and a few tears on his face. The sight of his rushed appearance makes your heart clench, knowing how fast he must have rushed down when you see the mismatched socks on his feet.
The only thing you two lovers can do is rush over to each other in reunion, letting Sonny grasp your waist and pull you close to his body, inhaling the scent of your hair that he missed the most. You don’t care if the mask and baseball cap somehow come off, revealing your identity to the public. Even when some staff whisper to one another about the two of you meeting, all you can do is sob quietly into the crook of Sonny’s neck, holding on tight. He does the same.
You pull away for just a second before he’s struggling to let his words out. “H-How did you… I thought you couldn’t come?” he states in disbelief, holding your smaller hand in his own. 
You laugh at his stutter, wiping away his tears and telling him the change of plans. Sonny looks at you with the utmost adoration you’ve seen him show in the past four years of you two dating, and pulls you in for a much awaited kiss. 
It’s soft but hard, needy and full of longing that was pent up in both of you, letting his hands interlock with your own. You smile in the kiss, and Sonny feels that with you here, his matches will surely get better.
Though one would see a scandal occurring between two celebrity figures out in public, to the two of you, it was a precious reunion of lovers. 
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jayfortheday · 2 years
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Hiiii i like your vance hopper stories and if ur still doing them can i request one where the reader likes vance and he bullies her alot and would always sneak to her house and they would talk like he is scared to tell her how he feels and then one day she can’t take it anymore and then he confesses?
Hiding (Vance Hopper)
Pairing: Vance Hopper x F!Reader (romantic)
Word Count: 1008
Description: Vance has a crush on Y/N, and not really knowing how to deal with it, makes fun of her while they're out in public, but they're friends behind closed doors. Y/N starts to get tired of this so Vance is forced to talk to her
Tags: bullying, angst, confession
Quick Note: I received two other requests almost identical to this one, right now, this is the one I'll respond to. If you still want to see your version of the request, resend it when my requests are back and I'll write it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You sat in your room, watching a program on your TV. You were curled up in your blanket, fighting the autumn cold. On your right, you could hear a knock on your window. You looked and saw Vance, his fluffy blonde hair framing his face. 
“It’s open,” you said, looking back to your TV. Vance looks at the window and pushes it open. Vance hoists himself up on his hands and rolls into your room, landing on your floor. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Vance greets you, standing up from your carpet. 
“Hey, Vance,” you greeted back, turning off your TV.
“Um, so, how ya feelin’?” He asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. 
“Why don’t you ask my bruises,” you said coldly, still not looking at him.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Vance apologized. “But what was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, not let your friends beat me up?” You said with a tone that this shouldn’t be something you should have to clarify.
“Come on, you know it’s not that easy,” Vance said with a pouty tone. “Let’s do something, we can play a game or watch a movie?” Vance looked at you with a slight pleading expression. He leaned forward and tapped on your legs to the beat of a song in his head. You cracked a reluctant smile. 
“Fine, Star Wars is playing in, um, 8 minutes if you wanna watch that,” you suggested. Vance smiled and climbed up your bed to lay next to you. 
"Star Wars," he laughed. "My kind of girl."
When the credits rolled, Vance yawned and stretched out. You reached your hand out to him and absentmindedly played with his curls. He smiled and hummed at the contact. He rolled onto his stomach and looked up to you as you continued to play with his hair. He saw a contemplative look on your face.
“Everything good?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows. You shook your head.
“I need to talk to you,” you said, sitting up on your bed. You adverted your eyes before looking back at Vance. “I can’t keep doing this, Vance. It’s too much whiplash, I can’t do this with you.” Vance straightened his posture to match you.
“Wait, what do you mean, doin' what?” He asked, looking at you confused. You hated when he acted dumb. 
“You know exactly what I mean! Standing idly by in public but being all buddy-buddy when it’s just us. Jesus christ man, just pick, I can’t handle this!” You burst out, this relationship with Vance had been wearing at you. 
Vance looked taken aback at your outburst. 
“It’s not that simple,” he mumbled, looking down at his legs. 
“I think it is, you just don’t wanna choose,” you remarked, scooching away from him. 
“No, Y/N, wait, it’s not that, I promise,” he rushed out, raising his hands defensively.
“Then what is it?” You asked, still looking away from him. Vance fell silent. 
“Well?” you prompted again.
“Give me a second, I’m trying to figure out how to word it,” he said, glancing at you before looking back down. You huffed. 
Vance stayed silent for a moment before speaking again.
“I really like you, we’re just really different. There’s a lot of weird stuff outside, but when it’s just us, that doesn’t matter. I really like spending this time with you, and I’m sorry it gets weird when there’s other people,” he looked embarrassed as he spoke. That wasn’t enough for you.
“I’m sorry, Vance, but I can’t do this. I need something more consistent, I can’t handle this-this back and forth or whatever. Just decide here and now, do you wanna be my friend or not?” You issued your ultimatum, now you just had to wait for Vance to decide. 
Vance’s face flushed red and you could see his lip trembling slightly. You felt bad, but you needed an answer. 
“I know what I want,” he said quietly.
“Then, please, tell me,” you pleaded, trying to meet his eyes. 
“I wanna be with you, Y/N, but…as more than friends.” Your eyes widened and your face blushed as Vance confessed. “I meant it when I said I liked you, I like-like you. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before.”
You thought about what Vance said, about how what he had done and said up to this point would affect your decision. Vance had stood aside and you had been abused and assaulted by his friends out in public, even joining in on occasion. When you were alone, Vance was one of the kindest people you’d ever known, he always knew how to make you laugh and how to cheer you up, he was charming, he supported you, he was affectionate, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him really pretty. Vance looked into your eyes for an answer.
“I like you too, Vance,” you confessed, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “But I can’t keep up with how we are outside.”
“Then it’ll be different!” Vance scrambled, leaning forward and grabbing your hands. “I promise. I’ll stick up for you, I’ll make sure they leave alone, you’ll never have to worry about anything again.” 
“Promise?” You asked shyly.
“100 percent. I promise,” Vance assured you, squeezing your hands in his. 
“Ok,” you smiled, squeezing his hand back. A look of pure happiness came upon Vance’s face as he reached forward and pulled you into a hug. He held you tightly and fell back onto your bed with you on top of him. You laughed as you fell with Vance holding onto your midsection. 
“Everything’s gonna be different now, I promise,” Vance said, reaching up and stroking your face with his hand. You held onto his hand with yours as you looked into his face. You turned your head and pressed a gentle kiss into his hand. When you looked back to him, you saw he had turned a bright shade of red, prompting a laugh out of you. 
“Ok.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! I was gonna put in a scene of the reader actually getting bullies but I was having trouble writing it so they just talk about it ig, probably gonna do one or two more things tonight, I don't work tomorrow so I got time
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killerlookz · 2 years
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This is me asking you to explain the lore of Norwegian metal to us because after your Eddie AU and ur last post im intrigued.
ANON BECAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BECAUSE I LOOOOOOVE EXPLAINING THINGS...... but this is just an abridged version of events... but i figure context will also help with the au! this is essentially just how black metal "took off" and became what it is today .... also my heart is so full over the fact someone asked LMAO
warning: under the cut will contain mentions of self-harm, suicide and, murder.
underlined sections just contain links to pictures i thought would help visualize the story better! they're all tumblr links so they shouldn't take you out of the app/site
okay so the story goes way back to the early 80s in sweden actually, (i promise this context is needed- sorry this story may seem a little far off at the moment) essentially it "all starts" when Per Yngve Ohlin (also known as 'Pelle') at the age of 10 is beat up so severely by bullies his spleen is ruptured which causes internal bleeding and he's taken to the hospital. while in hospital, he's pronounced clinically dead for a period of time before doctors are ultimately able to save his life.
But after this incident, Pelle was never the same. He soon after developed a deeply morbid fascination with death. He'd later describe later on in his life instances where he essentially believed he was a corpse. leading many to believe he actually had developed cotards syndrome- which is a very rare disorder where the sufferer believes that they are already dead and are essentially a walking corpse.
well, due to the bullying Pelle had to change schools, and he later met a group of people he shared common music interests in and they formed a death metal band called Morbid. the band never really went anywhere as it was essentially a "high school band" as Pelle would later describe it, but it did kickstart Pelle's music career and the musical identity he would soon develop. it was in this band where he began to do "corpse paint" which is probably the one thing MOST synonymous with the aesthetic of black metal. and while there are many potential influences on corpse paint, Pelle is credited with creating corpse paint as it is known in the scene today. (you can see Pelle's paint and his old band morbid here, he's the one with crimped hair and thick black makeup around his eyes!)
Well- Morbid never went anywhere, and Pelle began to take interest in even darker music having become unsatified by death metal having become overtaken by "posers" and through this interest found out the black metal band Mayhem in norway was in need of a new vocalist after the vocalist that did their first EP left- so he sent in a demo tape, and whaddya know! he got the job. so in 1988 at just 19 years old Pelle Ohlin packed his bags and moved to norway to begin his career as the new vocalist for Mayhem. by the point that Pelle had joined the band Mayhem was not the massive infamous name it is in metal today, they were simply a local band made up of a bunch of teenagers and they had one EP out called Deathcrush. and perhaps one of the most infamous names in all of metal is the "leader" of the band at this time, and that is guitarist Øystein Aarseth, better known as 'Euronymous' (pictured in the red sweater in the middle)
seemingly, Pelle was a good match for Mayhem. Pelle's facination with the macabre and death paired perfect with Mayhem's proposed dark image and they began to work on songs together and Pelle is perhaps responsible for writing some of Mayhem's most famous songs. and during this era, Euronymous would create a guitar tone that would forever influence the sound of black metal to this very day.
though while on the outside this partnership seemed like a good thing- behind the scenes things weren't great. things were moving slowly with the band, they weren't recording, and they had a lot of problems with booking shows. essentially, not much was going on with Mayhem.
though- they were able to score some shows during this time. and this is where the image of Mayhem as we know them today really begins. the band would dress up in corpse paint (most notably Pelle and Euronymous) and perform truly intense stage shows. Pelle was known to cut himself on stage and let his blood drip onto the crowd, and they would also throw pigs heads they had bought into the crowd in order to "weed out the posers" (pictures from one show can be seen here they're not graphic but you can see a small smidge of blood on Pelle's hand in the 8th picture, and a fan holding one of the pigheads in the 3rd)
and while all of this madness seemed like an image just to be "edgy" or "hardcore" ... mayhem took themselves VERY seriously. they lived this lifestyle. and especially to one Pelle Ohlin, this was not just an image. you see.. the way Pelle lived his life on stage was very true to how he felt as a person. as mentioned prior, Pelle's near-death experience as a child lead him to have morbid fascinations and even, perhaps believe he was truly dead. and this would eventually lead him to earn the stage name 'Dead' - he would dress up in corpse paint, bury his clothes before shows so they would rot, and even asked to be buried in a coffin himself in order to "get death fungus under his eyes" (his brother's words, not mine)- he would smell a dead crow before going on stage to perform "with the scent of death in his nose", he starved himself to make him look more dead and pale, and he had severe self-harming tendencies. by all accounts, pelle was incredibly depressed, suicidal, and FASCINATED with death.
and all of this, combined with the incredibly poor treatment he recieved at the hands of Euronymous who had taken advantage of his suicidal ideations and constantly bullied him into going through with it. and, on april 8th, 1991, Pelle would attempt suicide by self-exsanguination. though given the temperatures of norway, his blood froze, and he was not able to bleed himself out. due to this, Pelle would eventually grab Euronymous's shotgun and shoot himself once in the forehead, ultimately, ending his life at merely 22 years old.
Euronymous would soon come home to the house they shared together and stumble upon Pelle's dead body. but instead of calling the police right away, Euro would leave the house, drive 20 minutes out to a store and buy a disposable camera where he would then come back home, and pose Pelle's body in various positions and taking pictures of his "friend's" corpse. and THIS is essentially THE catalyst for the rest of the tragic story of norwegian black metal.
the pictures would eventually be developed, and euronymous would also collect fragments of Pelle's skull and make necklaces for his inner circle of friends using the bones. understandably, and as edgy as norwegian black metallers were at the time... a lot of people were disgusted by euro's reaction to pelle's suicide. and bassist 'necrobutcher' was so appalled by euro's behavior he'd left the band. euronymous then promised to destroy the pictures- but he did not, he kept them hidden in his record store, and mailed some to a pen pal of his. this pen pal would then go on to use one of the pictures for an album cover of a bootleg live album called Dawn of The Black Hearts (released in 1995 it is a recording of a 1990 performance Mayhem did in Sarpsborg, Norway) the band HAS condemned the usage of pelle's post-mortem photos on this album cover. while unfortunately easily found on the internet, i do not encourage anyone to look at the album cover, while it is somewhat difficult to make out it is definitely very gore-y given the violent nature of pelle's death- and both Mayhem and Pelle's family do not want that picture spread on the internet any further- which is why i will not be linking it, and advise you not to seek it out yourself.
with no bassist and no vocalist, euronymous decided to take on other ventures such as his record shop Helvete (norwegian for hell). (more pictures here)it was here that the story of how black metal got its satanic and evil image began. in the basement of helvete. euronymous began what he called "the black circle" and it was essentially just a bunch of late teenage- early 20 edgelord musicians trying to "out edgy" each other.
during this time, euronymous was also in contact with varg vikernes, soul member of burzum. and, ill be honest, i cant stay objective right now. FUCK pretty much everyone in this story BUT MOST OF ALL... i cannot stress this enough FUCK VARG VIKERNES. okay... i wont apologize i just had to get that out. most of the people in this story are disgusting, but varg is truly god awful bigoted facist scum. fuck that man. and fuck his stupid shitty band.
BUT... euronymous enjoyed varg's work so much he decided to sign burzum to his record label 'deathlike silence' and also make varg the bassist for mayhem. euro would also get a new vocalist for mayhem, and they'd begin recording their first LP, Dom Mysteriis Dom Sathanas (i spelt that right first try, go me!)
so... while this is going on as i mentioned ... the whole "black circle" is essentially trying to out-edgy each other, and varg essentially decides to take the cake for this one and burns down a church. it's presumed to be multiple, actually, and varg wants everyone to know that these church burnings are a result of black metal, and black metal's protests against christianity. simultaneously, faust, another black circle member- from the black metal band Emperor kills a man. and varg believes everyone should know that this is also a result of black metal. and on the outside, euronymous is encouraging all of this... he wants black metal to have this notorious name and he wants it to be a dangerous art, he doesnt want new comers , he doesnt want fame, or glory, he wants to keep black metal "sacred".
but varg decides to go to the press and confess under the guise of anonimity that these crimes are a result of black metal-ers in the area. AND THUS... this interview is where we now get the association of black metal and all things evil and satanic on a widespread scale. but since varg is the biggest fucking idiot on the planet AND DECIDED TO DO AN INTERVIEW WITH THE PRESS ABOUT CRIMES HE COMMITTED he was arrested, but - essentially the norwegian authorities didnt have enough on him to actually tie him to the church burnings... so he was not convicted and subsequently released.
but with this negative press on black metal, the norwegian scene now has more eyes on them and this SCARES THE HELL out of euronymous. who closes helvete in 1993 because he doesnt want to be implicated in any of this. so, now euronymous is pissed at varg because he "ruined" everything for everyone by going round to the press. and varg is pissed at euro... because varg hasn't seen any of the money from the burzum albums that were released on euro's lable.
so, tension begins to arise between the two friends... and apparently... allegedly, euronymous makes a threat that he wants to kill varg and make a snuff film out of it.
this info gets back to varg. who... upon reciving a contract from euronymous, transferring the rights of burzum's music from deathlike silence to varg- he decides to travel the six hours from where he lives in bergen norway, to euronymous's flat in oslo norway to "sign the contract"
but, in reality, varg had no interest in signing said contract, and instead, when he went over euronymous's house that night in august 1993, he would stab euronynous killing him.
varg was quickly linked to the crime, and unsuccessfully pleaded self defense (in reaction to the snuff film threat) - but, literally no one drives six hours from their home to someone elses home and stabs them as many times as he did in self defense. varg was since convicted and served 21 years in prison (norway's max sentence)
this coverage, due to the extreme nature of euronymous's murder is what made black metal go GLOBAL no longer a scene with small little subsections in small areas of the globe, it became an internationally recognized and huge metal genre just as death metal did before- something ironically- the black circle had been fighting against the whole time.
necrobutcher eventually rejoined mayhem and they're a pretty normal band now... they tour the world and do like normal interviews. they have a decent amount of monthly spotify listeners and have released music as recently as 2019. varg is out of prison and lives in the woods of france with his wife and 8 children and creates table top role playing games. he also used to upload youtube videos where he would spew just the most outright stupid fucking disgusting hateful alt-right garbage (i reiterate, FUCK BURZUM AND VARG VIKERNES. SERIOUSLY) and he's also been arrested multiple times since being released for euro's murder.
and while euronymous is credited for creating "true norwegian black metal" his death was actually a huge relief in the scene and wasn't exactly mourned. i know movies like Lords of Chaos paint euronymous out to be a super innocent dude but... he was also an incredibly disgusting person. just about nobody in this story is "innocent" and they should not be romanticized!!
but... that is pretty much where the story ends
and to anyone who read all the way through.... hiii thanks for listening to my spiel!
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0zzysaurus · 2 years
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Ayo what are ur official Mungo and Rumple designs? I know you don’t draw them identical so I’m curious 👁👁
!! I have a couple different ones for Jerrie, and Teazer is like… ever-changing at this point. I think I draw her different basically everytime I try. Either I draw them as though it’s US Tour 4 (or 1998 if I really cannot be arsed) or I use my own designs.
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My Jerrie is based on US Tour 4 elements as well as La Mirada 2014 - ESPECIALLY in terms of the face and wig shape.
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La Mirada Rumpleteazer is also a big go-to for me when I’m trying to think of designs for her, but I’m still a bit stuck when it comes to Teazer’s design that I don’t wanna say I have an official one.
Under the cut for just a list of what my Jerrie’s design consists of:
full black body with slight fur thinning around his tummy
orange face with a yellow muzzle and forehead, and a pink nose!!
hair that covers the eyes (but when they aren’t covered, he has a light orange upper eyelid and green/blue irises on yellow scleras)
hair that covers the eyes (but when they aren’t covered, he has a light orange upper eyelid and green/blue irises on yellow scleras)
Black hair aside from a tuft of orange on the right side, and a tuft of pinkish-red on the left.
His shoulder fur is fluffier, and it tends to meet with the fur on the back of his head to sorta look a bit mullet-ish? But if he sits up straight it’s obviously not the same segment of fur
Sharp black ears with fringing on the tips
Red collar with outer banding, and with silver/gold spikes and a buckle - and a golden trout tag (always a trout). Sometimes I simplify it to a Darwin Fish shape, but it’s supposed to be a trout.
Crop top that is usually plain orange, but can also have stripes or rips that let his shoulder fur pop through
Orange fingers that are either on fingerless-gloved paws or on black, fluffy paws
Orange feet with black toes
A slim, black tail with four spikes of fur coming out of it at the end.
Depending on the effort level, sometimes he can have stripes or different patterns on his coat
There are still things I’m working on wanting to include but haven’t figured out how to do it yet including:
A more consistent usage of freckles
One red hindpaw
The left arm to have less fluff/not have an arm warmer (I usually don’t draw him with any arm warmers so this one always catches me out)
More consistent patterns and striping - I just get so lazy u have to forgive me 😔
And Rumpleteazer is a WHOLE NOTHER can of worms that I really can’t open right now because I get stuck on her every single time I draw her. It’s so frustrating 😭😭, but I’ll figure out something that matches Jerrie sooner or later. My issue is that I’ve gone and made him look nothing like the other cats, so it’s tricky making other designs that accommodate that same art direction.
Obvi ive drawn him a lot so if you name-search him on my blog I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for - plus I’ve drawn him with Rumpleteazer a few times so you might be able to find where I was trying to some up with different ideas for her amongst the Jerrie stuff.
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venusiangguk · 3 years
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hand-picked | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / famous!jk x sex worker!oc
>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, teaser, drabble
>>word count: 2.8k
>>warnings: glory hole au!!!, cocky jk, bad boy jk, stripper oc, sex work, sexual tension, awkward tension, hand job, blowjob, cumshot, cum on tits, pay for play, semi-anonymous sex, dirty talk, dishonesty...  that’s it i think zzz
>>notes: if u don’t like sex workers ur ugly and i hate u 😌 also ty to @wheresmymoniat​ for betaing n helping me out, ily <3 *repost bc tag issues don’t mind me 🙄*
>>summary: glory holes weren’t a real thing... at least until you’re on your knees for a stranger, cock in your face, with nothing but a curtain between you.
Despite your nerves, you grasp the semi-hard cock in front of you, attached to a nameless person behind the curtain. For a moment you wonder what the hell you’re doing, but the soft sigh that you hear brings you back to the present. You stroke up and down, watching as he starts to become fully aroused. The foreskin rolls over the pink tip on every upstroke. You bite your lip. The silence is awkward, but you think maybe the whole situation is.
 “So... what do you do? Like… not specifically of course, but are you an idol? An actor? You can be vague…” 
 Behind the curtain, Jeongguk, whom you don’t know the identity of, stiffens just a bit. Will his voice give him away? Maybe, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to boast about himself and his achievements.
 “I’ve done it all,” His voice is airy, softer than he would like, but your hand on his cock is speeding up, and so is his breathing. “I’m good at all of it too.”
 You hum at the man’s response. Cocky. “Isn’t saying you’re good at a lot of things just another way of saying you’re not good enough at one thing? So you have to compensate by spreading yourself thin?” You gasp a small giggle when you feel the cock in your hand jump a little at your words. “Did you like that? It wasn’t meant to be degrading, but if that’s what you’re into-“
 “It’s not- that.” He doesn’t know if he’s denying your psychoanalyzation, or your keen interpretation of the way his cock reacted to your psychoanalyzation but one was more inaccurate than the other. He actually was great at most everything he did, no need to overcompensate like you assumed. 
 Your small hand tightens, and you rub your thumb at the underside of the head, you let out a small pleased noise when you see a bead of precum well at the tip. “Really? You’re starting to leak a little.”
 You sound amused and humorous and if Jeongguk had it in him he would be annoyed or even upset at the way you’re talking to him. You were basically hired help, a means to an end. He glances down his torso at his hard cock in your tiny, well-kept manicured hands. Your nails are a dark red, burgundy color. It complements your skin well, he thinks. He can’t see much of you, just your forearms, along with the bottom part of your tummy and your legs. You’re sitting on your knees between his spread out thighs, feet tucked under you. From the tight black leggings you’re wearing and the slim-fit long sleeve white crop top you have on, Jeongguk can tell you have a good figure. Your waist is tapered in, tiny and cinched, and your hips are wide enough to accentuate it, letting him know you’ve got a petite hourglass frame. You aren’t too skinny though, there’s a softness to your body that he likes. It’s not like he needed the tight fitting clothes to know what your body looked like, though. He’s already seen more of it than he is right now. His mind flashes to the club.
 You may be hired help, but you were hand-picked by him. 
 “It’s just-“ He contemplates what to tell you and settles for, “It’s been a while.”
 “Since?” You push. You hear footsteps outside and you hand stops, scared for some reason that you’ll get caught doing something bad. As if the door wasn’t locked and being guarded. Behind the black curtain, his hips lift just barely, urging you to keep going. Don’t stop.
 “Since someone’s helped me.” Jeongguk’s head rolls back when your hand starts moving again. It’s been at least a few months since he’s gotten off with someone, his hand being his only companion. After the situation blew up even more than it had in months prior, his leash was tight. No wiggle room at all. He was suffocating and desperate. He almost cried when his team propositioned this arrangement, embarrassing as it was.
 When he speaks, his voice is soft and everything is said with a sigh. He sounds so relieved, like it feels so good to be in your palm, like he’s been waiting for your hand on his cock forever. You blush, and right your thoughts. You don’t even know who he is or what he looks like. Still, you ask, “Does it feel good, do you like it?” Tone soft to match his.
 Jeongguk nods and swallows thickly. Eyes still closed, letting the pleasure slowly work its way through his veins. Then he remembers you can’t see him. “Yeah.” He breathes.
 You hum and keep up your ministrations. Not slow, but not fast either. You’re not quite sure what he likes yet, but the soft moans that flutter through the curtain at least let you know what you’re doing isn’t wrong. 
 “I like your hands,” He surprises you by saying. “They’re so small; soft,” A more vocal sound falls from his lips when you twist your hand on the upstroke. He’s chuckling when he says, “Kinda strokes my ego a little bit.”
 You glance at the cock in your hand. It’s pretty. Thick and pink. A pleasant kind of heavy in your hand. The veins running over it are subtle enough to not be ugly or intimidating. The only intimidating thing about it is the size. He’s big. And you’re sure he already knows that. 
 You snort. “I don’t think you need that stroked.”
 This makes him laugh a little harder. It’s a nice sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He hums, you think you can hear a smile in his voice. It’s quiet again for just a moment before he says, “Will you- faster? Make your hand a little tighter too- yeah, like that.”
 His hips sink into the chair when you comply with his requests before he’s bringing them back up, subtly thrusting into your palm. You fight back a moan; you shouldn’t be getting hot for someone you don’t even know right? This was strictly business. Still, you can’t help the slight shifting you do, squeezing your legs together for a little bit of pressure on your pussy.
 Jeongguk notices. “Are you turned on?”
 “No!” You squeak.
 “You can touch yourself,” He offers.
 “No!” You insist, “I-I’m fine.Thank you though.” You say dumbly.
 He doesn’t say anything more, focuses on your hand on him, tugging just how he asked. His hand rubs over his stomach, flexing as he teases himself, his own light touches mixed with your strokes brings goosebumps over his skin. “Feels, so good.” He groans, eyes watching your hand under the curtain.
 Encouraged, you bring your other hand up and massage lightly at his balls. They’re hairless, the only hair he has is the small trimmed patch above the base of his cock. He’s well kept and has good hygiene. That alone was attractive to you, stranger or not.
 When you palm his balls, his legs spread as far as they can with his black cargo pants still around his calves, his big black stomper boots keeping them from being shed all the way. “Fuck,” He moans deep and loud for you. One of his hands comes down past the curtain and reaches for you before he quickly pulls it back. You think you saw a flash of ink on it, but you can’t be too sure, mind kind of fuzzy with poorly hidden arousal. The opposite hand comes into view, and your mouth parts in awe as he covers your own hand with his. It’s so much bigger than yours, completely enveloping it as he strokes himself off, using you in a way. Then again the whole arrangement was you both using each other. 
 “You’re mouth- put your mouth on it,” He sighs, pleasure just dripping from his lips. His cock is rock hard in both your hands, and you can tell he’s getting close.
 You hesitate. “Will… will you be able to see me?”
 Jeongguk comes out of his desire induced high a little bit and realizes what he said. He wants it, fuck does he want your mouth, but he probably should have asked. “No, no. I’ll lower the curtain a bit more if you want, and you don’t have to swallow. You don’t even have to suck it if you don’t want- like I know we have a thing going on but I would never like- force you I-“
 He’s rambling a tad so you cut him off. “I want to, I think,” You whisper, taking in his intimidating size again, “I just- if I can’t know who you are, you can’t know who I am.” You blush feeling a little childish.
 Jeongguk keeps the fact that he already knows what you look like and more or less who you are, at least on a surface level, to himself as he moves the curtain to the next lower notch, the bar resting just above his pelvis now. He can’t really see much of you at all anymore. “That’s fair, yeah, just-“ With your confirmation that you do in fact want to suck him off, he can’t keep the lustful neediness out of his voice, “Please.”
 You take a deep breath as you wrap both of your hands around his cock, the tip still poking out the top. Tentatively you lick at his frenulum and the sound that comes from behind the curtain is obscene. His hips twitch and everything. You want to hear his noises, all of them, so you do it again. You flick your tongue fast over the most sensitive underpart of the head, before placing wet sucking kisses to the same area, almost making out with the tip of his cock.
 “Oh my god-“ His body is pulled taut, and his hands are gripping the chair that he’s sitting in. “Fuck that’s- I love that.” He says, head dropping back, mouth open in a silent moan. 
 You moan against the tip of his cock, not able to hold yourself back anymore. Wrapping your lips around it, you take the head all the way into your wet, hot mouth, and suck. You lap up all the precum that leaked out, and point your tongue to play with the slit. The man behind the curtain is loud for you, letting you know just how good you’re making him feel. You get so lost in it that you don’t register him raising the curtain bar just enough for him to slip his hand past and push you off.
 “S-sorry,” He says, panting, “I was about to cum.”
 You make a small sound of confusion. “That’s okay, I can swallow- If you want me to.”
 Jeongguk shakes his head behind the curtain. “No, I- I wanna watch… see your hands stroke me off.” His request is quiet but his cock pulses in your hand, needy and hot. Already begging for release, despite you not being at it for that long.
 Wordlessly, you start stroking again, gathering the spit that’s on his tip to make the slide easier. It doesn’t take much time at all before his thighs are flexing and you can see the lower part of his abs tensing. 
 “Close,” He whispers.
 Jeongguk watches as your tiny hands fly up and down his cock, grip tight just like he showed you. He’s doing his best to not fuck up into your hands, wanting to just rely on you and your movements, but it’s hard. Small eager little thrusts of his hips show you how ruined he is. And it’s just a handjob. He knows. If he was present enough he would probably be embarrassed by how angry and red his cock is, swollen and hot in your palm. And he’s just so wet, leaking all over the place making the strokes of your hand loud in the room. 
 He watches as you hunch over some, to where he can see everything below your neck, and your free hand comes up to your shirt. He sees you struggle a little bit as do your best to get the collar down under your bra, with only one hand before squeezing at your tits. “Do you want to cum on them?” You whisper.
 “Fuck, please.” He whines high pitch and needy, all reservations out the window. 
 You hum, and work your arm faster over his cock, the rapid movements making your tits jiggle. “Do it, cum for me… cum all over my tits.”
 You can’t see him, but Jeongguk’s face is lewd. Pleasure so apparent on his features, it almost looks painful. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are wet and glassy, so overwhelmed by finally getting help after so long of cumming by himself. He’s chanting soft, pornographic yeah’s and yes’s until his whole body curls in on itself, you can see the way his legs tremble as he moans, “Fuck, I’m cumming.”
 He forces himself to keep his eyes somewhat open, lidded and heavy with arousal, as he shoots all over your chest. You’re moaning with him behind the curtain as you work him through his orgasm, despite no physical pleasure being given to you, and that makes another small shot of cum dribble from his spent cock. You lean forward, careful of your identity, and wipe the leftover milky substance on your already soiled skin and black bra. You slap the slowly softening cock on them for good measure and Jeongguk groans.
 You keep playing with his cock, not sure if he’s the type to like it or the kind that wants you off right after he finishes, but he winces and reaches his hand under after not too long, stopping you.
 “Please,” He whines.
 His voice is fucked out, and your pussy aches, needy and wet in your panties. “Oh, sorry…”
 He laughs lightly. “No, no. Don’t say sorry… You’re like- so good.” Jeongguk sighs to himself out of your view. He’s leaning back in the chair, while running a hand through his sweaty hair. Little tremors of pleasure are still coursing through him, when he closes his eyes, blissed out, dazed and relaxed. Finally, after months of being pent up. “So, so good.” He murmurs softly, distractedly. 
 His hand that reached under the bar to grab yours to stop you, is lazily rubbing over the back of your hand, hold light and subconscious against his thigh. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it and you blush, shyly pulling your hand away. He doesn’t show any sign of even noticing and you both settle into a soft quiet, only your breaths sounding in the room.
 “Um.” You say eloquently.
 “Fuck sorry.” Jeongguk says, scooting the chair back to put his now soft cock away. He rolls his eyes to himself. Way to get stuck in the afterglow by himself with his flaccid cock in some girls face. “Let me get you a towel.”
 “Should I put the blindfold back on?” You ask.
 “Uh- Yeah.” He says stilted. This is weird. You just made him cum so hard he almost knocked out, and now he’s making you cover your eyes so you don’t figure out who he is. 
 You hear the hesitation in the man’s voice and assure him that it’s okay, while grabbing the blindfold you tucked into the waistband of your leggings. You knew how it went, you signed the papers. Patiently you wait until you hear him coming back and sense a soft moist towel being shoved under the bar. You blindly grab it with a soft, “Thanks.”
 “I’ll go wait in the bathroom so you can- I don’t know…? Get ready to go I guess.” You hear his heavy boots retreat to the bathroom, that’s located on his side of the curtain, assuring that he wouldn’t be seeing you on his way.
 With the blindfold off, you go about cleaning yourself. Your knees crack when you stand up after being sat on them for so long. Wincing, you run a hand through your long hair and walk over to the table where you left your bag. You leave the used rag in its place and you shoulder the purse. About to make your way to the door, you pause.
 “I’m uh- leaving?” You yell unsure.
 “Okay,” He yells back through the door. “Did you- did they- your- did they give you the-“ He stutters, not sure how to ask if you got paid.
 The wad of cash in your purse is heavy. Figuratively and literally. “Yeah, they did.” 
 “Okay… Good. I’ll um see you next time?” He sounds hesitant and shy. 
 You laugh. “Yeah I guess so.” And with that, you make your way out of the hotel, thinking that he sounds a whole lot less entitled and cocky than he did when you first got there.
~~~
hiii guysss! thanks for reading this lil drabble! This is kind of like a teaser for a longer fic i have on the back burner (let me know if you like the concept and want me to continue!) but i wanted to post something because i havent for a few weeks bc i have been soo busy with school pls i want to cry 🥲 i should be doing maths as i post this lmao. ANYWAY! thanks again for reading, if u liked it, pls like, comment, reblog, or even send an ask! love talking to u guys n feedback is always lovely <3
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mailboxmerchant · 3 years
Text
BAD DAY
tldr:naib is mfin horny after a match wit u bae n ur both in love with esch other and equally needy but dont knoe‼️
character: Naib Subedar - mercenary
fandom: identity V
warnings: SEX!!! who could have guessed, also rough/dom naib, swearing, power bottom(lmao)/fem reader, perhaps some masochistic type a stuff but not crazy, less goooooooo
(this is like. just horny. no thoughts. only horny)
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As sweat beaded down his forehead, you watched Naib angrily smash the keys of a decoding machine. Something was up, but your teammate just never seemed to let on when something had gone wrong. This match was going fine, you had three more ciphers to go, and everyone was still up and going, only two of your teammates being injured. The hunter was struggling to find any of you, and with each of you teamed up with another to decode, you were all feeling confident in a victory to the survivors. So why was Naib so stressed?
“Hey, Naib?”
 “What, y/n?” 
His tone was sharp, and he snapped back instantly. Someone was clearly cranky. What did you even do?
“Are you...feeling okay? You seem...tense.” You kept your tone neutral, preventing there to be any negativity for him to react to. Before he snapped back, he missed a calibration and alerted the hunter of our position. Still not talking, Naib wrapped a braced arm around your waist and made a dive into a pile of cardboard boxes and other various recyclables. “Shut it, y/n. Hunter’s comin’.” 
You went quiet, but still, his commanding attitude could be done without.  You squirmed in Naib’s grip, at which he grunted, and tightened his hold on you. 
He was started to really make you worry. Naib was usually a calm, collected rescuer, who often would be more reassuring when you were being hunted. You promised you’d figure all this out, just maybe after the match ended. 
The danger passed, quite literally, as Hell Ember jaunted around the trash pile you were hiding in. Naib’s grip got even tighter around you as the hunter loomed closer.  “N-Naib, I can’t-” Naib didn’t seem to give a damn for what you had to say as he slapped a hand over your mouth. “I said, quiet.” His tone was worsening, he was really pissed, huh?
You couldn’t deny yourself though, hearing him sound so stern and having him grab at you so suddenly really threw you off. Your ever-so-secret crush on Naib was keeping you from feeling angry about any of this, in fact, you were almost happy to be so close, even if he was being rude. 
Finally though, you decided that you needed to get back to the matter at hand. Leo was gone, and Naib had to let go of you sometime. You made more of an effort to move, and Naib finally dropped you. Quickly, you jumped back on the machine as the Merc slowly crept from the box pile to return to his typing position. “You know, you could have been caught if it weren’t for me.” He sputtered, quieter than before. “Th-thank you...? God, Naib, what’s your issue today?” You spoke more questioningly than upset, hoping he wouldn’t hear the annoyed undertone in your speech. “It’s nothing you’d understand.” 
Alright, you were giving up for the remainder of decoding time.
Silently, you both finished the machine, and you made a break for the opposite direction of Naib. You figured you could have some alone time to just decode, calm down, and prep for the ending leap where you’d have to play a guessing game for which gate Hell Ember would be waiting for you at. 
Taking a break from running, your steps grew light as you began to pace yourself. “y/n!” As you looked through the fog, you discovered that Edgar was awaiting you with a half done machine. “Edgar! You’re here!” You made a quick greeting to the painter before getting back to business. Small talk wasn’t necessary between the two of you, as the ability to decode calmly was leaving both of your skillsets as your heartbeats became slowly more audible. 
“Come on, y/n, we can finish this, just don’t look away from the calibrations. Stay focused.” Edgar gave you a light tap of the palm to your head as he smacked the sides of the cipher. Your pace increased, as did Edgar’s as you had merely a percentage left. Someone else’s machine popped off, and yours a second later. 
Determined and brave, you made off like a bullet towards the southward exit gate. Sneaking around a broken pillar, you sighed at the sight of a clear gate.  Edgar clearly didn’t share the idea that this was the correct gate, so you could only hope he was hiding and waiting it out to escape. Actually, it seemed like everyone picked the wrong-
*SLAM*
A large hand suddenly slapped down on the decoding pad next to yours, frightening the hell out of you. You prepared to meet your doom when you turned around, but instead met a glaring Naib. “N-Naib! Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” “Where’d you run off to earlier!? We were supposed to be decoding together.” 
His tone from earlier was still present, so....clearly he was still peeved about something you did. “W-well I just thought-” “You thought nothin’, y/n. Just keep decoding.” Your crush wasn’t protecting him any more. Letting out an anxious and angry grunt, you turned back around to the coding pad, slamming the rubbery keys down as you decoded. 
So that’s how it was, then, huh? Fine.
“Naib, you’re a real asshole.” You huffed as you finished the gate, and stormed out, not evening looking back to see if he OR Hell Ember were following. 
Once back in the manor, you rushed back to your room, the embarrassment and guilt from your actions following you quickly after. 
Keeping up the angry façade, you slammed your door behind you before running to flop on your bed. Holding your pillow close to your face, you yelled into it, hoping it was enough to choke the sound. 
“Damn it, Naib...”  You closed your eyes, hoping to wake up with a renewed confidence that way you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your words.
The sound of three loud, harsh knocks on your door awoke you from your rage nap. 
“OPEN UP! COME ON, I ALREADY KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, Y/N!!”
Naib? Again? Now what...
You begrudgingly sauntered to your door, cracking it open to peek out. Only, Naib pushed right through your defenses, pushing both you and the door back. “Hey!”
Naib was more forceful than before, walking quickly in your direction, and even quicker, cornering you against your bed. You fell onto your behind as Naib gave you a harsh push. “What is all this?! You’ve been acting weird since we started decoding together in that match, and you’re totally out of line! I didn’t even...do anything...” Your words lost their force as you trailed your eyes downward. So that’s why he was all pent up.
An obvious tent in Naib’s pants was what your eyes met with, and even though your cheeks began to blush furiously, you averted your gaze and tried to pretend that you saw nothing. “J-just get out of my room.” You grumbled, no longer able to keep eye contact. 
“I just came to talk, y/n, don’t throw me out.” Naib shifted his body, effectively pinning you to the plush mattress, a hand on either side of your head. You ‘hmphed’, and curtly turned your face away from him. 
“D-don’t act all pissy,” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, “you’re making it so much worse!” Your eyes still just couldn’t meet his, the heat between the both of you running down between your legs.  Sliding a knee between your thighs, Naib leaned down to speak gruffly into your ear. 
“This is all your fault, you know.” 
“N-Naib! I-” but your words were quickly vanquished by a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips slamming down on your own. A slight graze of his teeth on your bottom lip gave you more excitement than you’d ever felt in any match, and you immediately parted your lips to feel Naib’s wet tongue slick into your mouth. 
You let out a quiet noise, enough for him to notice. After what felt like an eternity (seconds) of making out, Naib pulled away to hold your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks harshly between his fingers. “So...that’s how you feel, huh?” 
You were flustered, but it wasn’t going to take away what your nap earned you. “You were being so awful in that match, but I still...love you, Naib. I didn’t know when or where to tell you, but if you’re gonna do it first, then by all means...” You gestured to Naib with a smirk. 
Hungrily, Naib practically shredded your clothes off, each of his hands attaching themselves to your chest as he kneaded your soft breasts between his fingers. Your quiet pants were driving him absolutely insane. He loved every little exhale that escaped your mouth, settling to nip and suck at your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much he needed this, how long he was waiting for this, how he wanted you.
An abrupt end to the sensations in your chest were replaced by a hand sliding underneath each of your thighs. Lifting them up to his shoulders, Naib quickly unfastened his belt, a look of giddiness flashing across his smug face. 
Diving his head down to meet his forehead to yours, Naib snatched your panties off in seconds, aligning himself painfully slow. As he slid his length slowly into your entrance, you dug your fingers into his hair, which was messily tied into his usual ponytail. Hissing at the feeling of you tugging his hair, Naib pushed all the way inside of you, earning a mewl of both pain and pleasure from you. 
"Ah, but wait..."
You winced as Naib suddenly pulled his length out of your entrance, the emptiness being too much to bear. "I'm an asshole, aren't I?"
He was going to make you eat your words.
Almost literally.
"Get up." His harsh tone was back, but it only served to make you feel hotter than before. Giving a shy nod, you got to your knees as Naib stood at the edge of the bed.
Nervously eying him, you gaped at his length, wishing you didn't say those words before so he could drive you insane with pleasure with it.
Stupid y/n...
"Well?" Tired of waiting, Naib took his hand to the back of your head, pushing you closer to his body, your head colliding with his chest. The sudden wholesome warmth was quickly replaced as he pushed you downwards near his manhood.
You began to comply as you opened your mouth, feeling as he gave a slow first grind into your throat. You choked immediately, but didn't pull away. Not yet.
Breathing quickly through your nose, you began to suck aggressively with no warning, pulling a gasp from the previously snarky Merc.
"Ga-hah! y-y/n...." Pulling off with a 'pop', you went back down to give small kitten licks to the tip of his cock, earning little shifts of position and pants from Naib.
"Stop....stop teasin' me...." was all he could huff out. You slid the entirety of his length in and out for a quick throat fuck a few times, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. In your own way, you were making him pay for being so snide earlier.  “Screw you, y/n. Have it your way.”
Your torture paid off! 
Naib firmly pushed you back down on your stomach, grasping your hips and pulling you close to his own hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you felt as Naib quickly align himself with your entrance once more.
Giving you no time to readjust again, he fully sheathed himself inside of you, your insides stretching once again to fit him inside. “Hah....shit, Naib.....” You cursed, grasping tightly onto Naib as he pushed you both down, beginning to thrust wildly in and out of you. Every pounding slammed harder against the entrance of your womb, the suction of your warm, wet insides also providing intense pleasure for Naib. 
“Oh fuck, y/n, you’re...so tight...” Naib panted loudly into your ear. Neither of you were even remotely worried about the other manor residents hearing either of your moans racketing off the walls of the creaky residence.
“G-god...I c-can’t...hold on...” You whimpered pathetically as your dug your fingers into Naib’s scalp a second time. As your begging for more became louder, you felt the knot in your stomach grow larger, tighter, and more overwhelming than you’d ever felt before. You could feel Naib’s hard and precise thrusts growing sloppy, and you knew you were both getting close to climax.
  “y/n....y/n....I’m gonna...” Before his sentence could even be finished, Naib’s thick cock twitched harshly inside you as you felt his hot seed pour into you. The spreading warmth was enough to send you over the edge, your juice quickly spilling out to mix with his own. 
Slowly pulling out, your precious mercenary promptly collapsed on top of you, his head coincidentally landing in between your tits. You sighed hazily, riding off your previous high as you wrapped your arms around his head, and slowly letting your eyes close in exhaustion.
a/n: so sorry if theres any typos/grammar-spellin mistakes. i rushed the end bc i had this cued for FOREVER, enjoy babes <3 
351 notes · View notes
dreaminpetals · 3 years
Note
ong pls i love ur writing so much 😭😭❤️ could you do luca sfw/nsfw relationship hcs?? 😳😳
🔧 sfw & nsfw luca relationship hcs . . .
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SFW ;;
♡ you're luca's favourite human being and the first person he goes to when he needs to geek out about a new invention or discovery he's made.
♡ luca isn't as social as he seems, he likes being on good terms with people so they don't misunderstand his prisoner title or fear him during matches but it's hard for him to take the next step and actually make friends. so if he ever needed to talk about anything he'd go to you.
♡ since he's so affection starved prepare to have him talk your ear off, there's so many things he's wanted to talk about but hasn't been able to.
♡ his whole life he's struggled with his side of the story being heard and he most definitely had his spirit broken in prison so to have someone who looks forward to hearing from him everyday? he gets bashful just thinking about it.
♡ if anything bothers him he loves to rant while pacing around the room, then you pspspsps him into bed and snuggle his problems away.
♡ by being his partner you've signed an unofficial contract to be his human pillow, have fun with his drooling and snoring!!!
♡ his mood changes a lot but being around you helps regulate it because he's always goofily happy when he sees you.
♡ luca is insecure about his scars and bruises, he used to be an elegant man who was constantly spotless so his look after prison + the accident has left him with some big identity issues. he needs you to compliment him!!! shower him with praise and call him handsome, charming, snazzy, whatever words you want to use... he doesn't want to feel like he downgraded :(
♡ when you're alone he lets his hair down and lets you play with it.
♡ there's so much hair.... give him a massage and kiss the crown of his head while you're at it, he loves the tenderness.
♡ sighs whenever he's content or extra comfortable, you found this out after asking why he always sighed during cuddle sessions.
♡ luca hates being cold and needs someone to keep him warm and fed, donate your body heat to him pls.
♡ he goes through random bursts of productiveness, he'll spend two days straight clinging to you like a koala then something snaps and he goes into work mode.
♡ it's hard to talk to him while he's focused so to show that you love him, drop him off food and clothes he can change into.
♡ he appreciates the silent ways you show your love, like never reacting when his electricity flairs up or scrubbing his hair in the bath before you get to yours.
♡ addicted to surprising you, whether it's a sudden kiss or a necklace he crafted for you.
♡ if something you have is broken he'll fix it for you while you sleep and have the cheekiest grin when you realize what he did in the morning.
♡ or he'll 'upgrade' something you have, like adding a self defense mechanism to your toaster and you're like 🤨
♡ the two of you go on adventures together all the time.
♡ the manor is your oyster, you're always collecting scraps to build things with each other or exploring areas with no trespassing signs.
♡ luca's quite the rule breaker and loves to show off around you but if anyone catches you he'd never let you get blamed for it.
♡ accidentally zaps you when he gets excited or surprised but he's able to control how strong they are around you, it's part of his simp abilities which overpower everything else.
♡ it's super hard to control but he ensures that you're never hurt, you can feel the zaps when you reach for his hand out of the blue but they never hurt. they're tingly and unique to your boyfriend so you've grown to love them.
♡ be careful you don't hurt yourself on his snaggle tooth when you kiss!!! there's been some mishaps with his fang before.
♡ his lips are so plump when you kiss him, they're slightly chapped but so warm and shoot butterflies straight into your stomach.
♡ does the thing where he tilts your chin up with his fingers then runs them along your bottom lip, he's addicted to seeing you blush.
♡ he acts super cocky and confident to make up for lost time and to heal his ego.
♡ asks you things like "missed me?" or "aren't i the best?" in his usual smug tone all the time but deep down that's how he asks for reassurance that he's loved.
♡ when he wakes up in the middle of the night he sometimes thinks he's back in his cell, he needs you to embrace his shivering form and tell him that you're with him now.
♡ hugs you from behind and unexpectedly picks you up because he loves to hear your laugh, it makes him feel electric.. in a good way.
NSFW ;;
♡ so. his zaps.
♡ he can control the intensity and they flair up when he's aroused or excited, meaning there's always a vibrating thrum you feel under his skin when you're intimate.
♡ what i'm saying is he's a walking vibrator ❤️
♡ lets you ride his thigh and ruts it against you, the vibrations leaving you a sobbing mess.
♡ he's okay with topping or bottoming, there's no preference he just wants to nut.
♡ inventing new ways to make you cum is his speciality but being able to lay back and let you milk him? it's a dream to luca.
♡ his moans are so rapid and breathy, he partially wants you to know you're doing a good job but he also sucks at controlling the volume of his voice.. if youre making him feel good he doesn't want to hide it. he can't hide it.
♡ he tries dirty talk with you but he's so breathless that you can barely decipher what he's saying.
♡ praise him!!! your whines are enough to keep him going but if you're able to slip some "fuck you feel so good"s in there?? he's ecstatic.
♡ refers to his cock as luca jr JDBCBDJD
♡ fixates on oral, giving AND receiving, he has a super long tongue and wants to use it on you.
♡ he's also used to handjobs from how often he's jerked himself off in the past, so a mouth over his cock is an entirely different feeling that he can barely handle.
♡ while he's giving oral he loves to make eye contact with you, flashing you his usual lopsided smile and sleazy grin except it's stained with your fluids.
♡ luca has made positions of his own and some toys of his own in his free time.
♡ if you're willing to he'd love to try out one of those fuck machines fjfnfnsbsj he wants to bring things he's good at into the bedroom.
♡ he seems like he'd love doggy style.
♡ pressing someone into a mattress while hammering into them and getting a delicious view of their body or the other way around? he dreams of that.
♡ i don't think he'd enjoy people being rough with him, degrading him, or tying him up.. it gives him bad memories.
♡ he can act like a wild animal the way he sloppily fucks you without restraint but he still gets emotional during the whole ordeal and needs to hear compliments and feel safe.
♡ something kinda cruel he does enjoy though? orgasm denial.
♡ right as you're about to climax he pulls himself away from you and snickers, taking great pride in how undone you become when you don't get what you want.
♡ it's all fun and games until you do the same to him, he'll beg you to be allowed to cum and will be so exasperated he'll ooze electricity from every pore.
♡ loves to bang on furniture or in the shower.
♡ shower sex!! when you're covered in foam and he lets his hair down he's all over you, pinning you against the glass of the shower and going to work.
♡ when he lets you take charge he always asks you to give him a strip tease, there's nothing like pushing luca down and slowly revealing your chest to him as you sway your hips, he cums in his pants nearly every time and can't take his eyes off you while he unbuttons his pants to stroke himself, chewing his lip.
♡ fav place to finish is on your body, he shoots a lot of cum and feels so possessive when he sees it stick onto you.
♡ his tongue is always out whenever he bottoms, he loses his smug aura and wholly gives himself into the pleasure.
♡ you're the only person who will ever see him like this so he can act like a brat all he wants.
♡ he still twitches and squirms even during aftercare, sudden giggle fits breaking the silence while he lovingly washes you up and threads his fingers through your hair, still damp from sweat.
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soulwillower · 3 years
Text
friendly neighborhood spiderman • richie tozier
(richie tozier x reader)
requested: soooo my idea was an e2l spiderman richie x reader. they hate each other at school, but one day while patrolling he sees her with her friends outside and watched her and is like ‘shit maybe she’s not so bad’. then proceeds to be mean to her at school anyways. then a few days later he sees her crying her e yea a out and talks to her as spidey, consoles her, start liking each other. and then at school he’s a jerk and she’s like I can’t take ur shit. make up. friends. lovers. photographer reader.   +    ok so I was thinking maybe her parents are divorced and it’s smth abt how both parents tell her totally different stories abt the divorce. like the mom says we never loved each other, it was arranged marriage, but he abused me and cheated on me. and the dad says she was a psycho always stealing my stuff and bitching at me. we thought shE had schizophrenia. both her parents are ok to her so she gets fed up and leaves home crying. Goes to rooftop sees Spider-Man AND BOOM LOVE. self indulgencE here
warnings: enemies to lovers (my specialty), mentions of a rough divorce, a bit of violence, spiderman!au, slight blood, unedited, she/they pronouns for reader
[losers + reader are 18.]
6.4k words
you're convinced it started when you missed the subway. 
that was the butterfly flapping it's wings; then the chaos of the rest of the day just happened to fall in place because some sadistic twist of fate said it so, and now you're rolling your eyes at your friend in the hallway, backpack loose on your right shoulder with a budding black eye that was throbbing with the pain of a hundred suns. 
you'd snuck up on your classmate in the dark room (first mistake) and then tried to scare him (second), resulting in a metal water bottle to the face. "well if you just ice it, i'm sure the swelling and the pain will go away..." your friend trails off as you sigh, nodding in agreement. "i'm so embarrassed, i'm just hoping it doesn't bruise." 
"-y/n, what's up with you? wh- oh." your other friend says as they join you, eyes landing on your swollen cheek. 
it was this moment that richie tozier, certified asshole, walks near with three of his friends. richie, the bane of your existence. also, the boy whose locker is four away from yours. sensing your fatal hesitance, richie grins, "y/n's still upset because someone dropped a house on their sister." he making everyone snicker. you glare at the ground. 
you don't want him to see your face; any kind of ammo would be enough for richie to take and go miles with, and you're not in the mood for one of your typical screaming matches, as much as the others at this school love to watch. 
"woah, y/l/n, who gave you the shiner?" he asks as he twists his fingers around his locker combination. 
"why? you trying to match?" you threaten, and richie just smiles. he's laughing into his open locker as you roll your eyes, your friends peeling away eventually as you start to search through your locker. 
"so," richie starts just as you thought the silence would stay until you could flee. you groan, leaning your head on the locker as he continues, "did flash finally figure out who's been saran-wrapping his car?" 
you narrow your eyes, "how'd you know that was me?" you ask, certain that nobody had seen you besides three of your friends. it's doubtful they'd tell richie. 
his face pales slightly and a rosy blush blossoms on his high cheekbones as he shakes his head, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. "because, e-everyone knows." he stutters out weakly. you give him a weird look, shaking your head. "bullshit." you mutter as you brush past him, slamming your locker closed. “creep.” 
richie hadn't meant to stalk them. y/n y/l/n's friend group just happened to be on the route he usually patrolled after classes, so he unintentionally ended up watching them pop in and out of the drugstore.
it was nearing a golden light around the city as richie sits on the fire escape of some building across the way - y/n's distinct figure sliding out of the store, arms wrapped inconspicuously around a bag and smile bright enough that richie can barely see the shiner still catching the light on y/n's left eye. 
he briefly wonders where it's really from, and if y/n was okay. he wonders if y/n was robbed, or if he could've been there to stop it. 
it's not until the three others in y/n's gang of idiots run out of the store that it clicks in richie's head - they definitely just stole those cookies, chips, the bottles of pop, the - richie tilts his head, squinting his eyes. yes, y/n definitely stole that handle of tito's. 
then y/n’s lifting the sheet in their hands - it looks clear, and then it’s being wrapped around a car in the parking lot. he’s alarmed, for a moment - y/n wouldn’t do that to just anybody, he doesn’t think. but then he laughs into his mask when he recognizes the car: flash thompson’s. 
he’s a nightmare, and he makes richie’s life hell just as much as flash makes y/n’s life hell and the rest of richie’s friends. so he leaves her be to saran wrap the car. 
feeling relieved that when he got his powers his vision repaired itself, richie can't help but chuckle, watching y/n's hair glint in the light and the way they tilt back in laughter, the gaggle of friends traipsing away from the store and down the block. richie's lips quirk in a small grin: shit, maybe y/n's not so bad. 
but despite that, richie and y/n's rivalry did nothing but steadily increase for the next week.
maybe it was because you were furious that you and your bio partner, richie's best friend stan, had gotten a b- on your lab, or maybe it was just  because richie was just feeling a bit more testy than typical. 
you're sure it's because when you go to your debate club's meeting, you find none other than richie tozier sitting across from your chair. 
"why is he here?" you ask the teacher, and he nods to richie, "i requested he attend a meeting, try it out. richie's quite talented, you know. i figured we could bring in a new challenge for you." 
“just because someone can talk a lot doesn’t mean they have anything good to say.” you snap. 
you can't even look at the cocky smirk on richie's face, his feet kicked up as he lounges at the desk. "intimidated, toots?" he asks cooly, and you roll your eyes. "never." 
and then ten minutes later, you’re doing a brainbreaking exercise where you’re split into groups of two and debating over a topic given to you. but you and richie were far more distracted by each other. 
“you know, for someone who everyone says is the best intellectual match for me, you’re a straight up douche and i can’t wait to graduate and never see you again.”
“compatible intellect, doll, not personalities. maybe if you stop acting like such an infant and stamping your feet around, we can part ways even faster.”
you glare at him. he glares back. then nothing else happens. 
the stress of the day caught up to you nearly immediately as you got home. you're holding back tears as you ignore your parents, who are screaming at each other; instead changing into sweats and a sweatshirt, brewing yourself a mug of tea, and slinking up to the roof with a blanket, prepared to mope around in the drizzle of rain. at least on the roof, nobody will see you cry. 
but the universe just can't let you have anything as of lately, because as soon as you finally settle down on the roof sitting on the blanket, and nearly letting a tear escape, a figure stands up a mere twenty feet from you, and you jump a bit. apprehensively, your eyes squint, and you're shocked to discover a spiderman suit bright in the dreary lighting of the overcast afternoon. 
the suit-clad person seems to be surprised by you as well, as you stand up, you're wary, unsure of how to act. of course you've heard of spiderman - he's all anyone can talk about lately, but you never expected to see him this close. what do you say?
"are you real?" you croak out. 
"am i- yes, what kind of question is that?"  his voice is way younger than you expected, and you're almost thrown off. he's closed the distance between you now, standing between you and the edge of the building, about four feet away. 
you narrow your eyes, immediately wanting to test him. "well, i don't know, i've seen people around jackson heights just wearing costumes like spiderman-" you argue, shrugging. 
the bickering is unexpected from a literal superhero, but it's strangely familiar to you. frowning, you walk closer to the masked figure, watching as spiderman takes steps backwards. he's at the edge of the building, and so without any thought, you place both of your palms across his sturdy chest and shove as hard as you can. "wait, wait what are you-" and spiderman's voice fades as he stumbles back, falling off the edge of the building with a yelp. 
for a moment, your breath leaves your lungs, and your hands slap your mouth. what did you just do? you can't breathe, tears clouding your vision yet again. 
but then a sticky, stringy substance slaps to the side of the building and the figure comes flying up, having catapulted himself up and back on the roof with a web. you gasp in relief, but the figure is already talking. 
"-what the fuck is your deal?" are the first words from the masked boy as he walks away from the ledge. your eyes are still wide, heart thumping fast and your tears are still there, threatening to fall. "-what if i wasn't actually spiderman, i- you could've killed an innocent person, holy sh-" 
you're tuning him out, though, the realization that you could have just killed someone finally pushing you over the edge. you crumble onto the blanket and let out a short, cut off sob. 
"woah, woah, hey..." spider-man looks hesitant, but then comes towards you where you fall to the gravel. "-hey, what's h-what are you doing, why are you crying?" he says, voice going softer. you frown, wondering why his voice seems so deep and forced. batman did that to conceal his identity, you think before letting out a sob, shaking your head. "shouldn't you be out, like, fighting crime or whatever?" 
"i'm here to make sure people are okay. you're clearly not okay." he argues, and you're too tired to try and argue with this stranger. 
"my parents are getting divorced," you sniff, eyes squeezing shut as more thick tears leak down your cheek. you know you probably look destroyed right now in front of this hero, but you don't care. after silence from him, he sits down right next to you on your blanket, backs leaning against some electrical box.
"and.. i can't tell who's lying. they told me completely different things." you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly. "my mom says it was a l-loveless marriage, that he- my dad used to... hurt her. and cheat on her-" you hiccup, wiping your eyes, makeup leaking on your hands. 
"my dad says she's psychotic. that she steals his stuff, that she always yells at him, and i can't-" you sigh, looking up at the clouds, watching a flock of birds fly away in the misting of the wet weather. "i feel like they see me as a pawn to play off each other. and at my school, i'm just the antagonist. people only like me because they like to see the fights i get into with this other kid." 
"midtown is just like that, i'm sure none of them mean anything by it-" you look at the boy, squinting as you take in the red fabric stretching over sharp cheekbones.
 "-how d'you know i go to midtown?" you sniffle. does spiderman go there, too? or teach there? how old is he, because he certainly seems too young to be a teacher?
he leans back, exhaling in an admission of guilt that flares a feeling of familiarity in you somewhere, something that's on the tip of your tongue. "lucky guess?" he states, choking it out as if he was trying to form the right words. you decide to brush it off, the feeling of being able to vent to a complete stranger suddenly making you feel better. the light mist in the air even feels good, now. 
"i can't deal with it. i just don't know. why should this have to be something they vent to me about? it hurts, i don't know what to believe and i just don't know what to do. i'm lost, i just need to have someone here for me." you hug yourself slightly, "am i selfish?" you finally ask, voicing the thought that's been nagging you for months. it's silent for a moment. a car horn sounds in the distance, a dog barks, people call to each other in the street. below you, the street is dotted with tiny moving umbrellas, concealing people underneath their net of dry safety in mere splotches of yellow, black, pink from how high up you are. 
spider man's nudging you in the ribs softly, then, calling you back to your own body. "listen. i know selfish, okay? i'm the definition of it, but, uh..." 
"y/n." you sniffle. "-y/n. trust me, you're not selfish for wanting to be loved, to be cared for...it's, um..." he scratches the back of his head, and you briefly wonder what color his hair is. what texture, length, how he styles it. 
"you deserve good things to happen, and, uh, it's not selfish for you to be overwhelmed. you're going through stuff that people our age shouldn't go through. especially not alone."
"so you are my age?" you ask, sniffling. sensing him tense next to you, you brush it off. you kind of figured as much from his...immaturity. "and you - spiderman - think you're selfish? do you know how much of a paradox that statement is?" you jest, shaking your head. 
spiderman's head tilts back, and he laughs. it seems to surprise him almost as much as it surprises you, because he shakes his head, trying to stifle it quick. "you forget," he starts, his fingers tapping at the tight fabric on his thighs. "that i also have a life. i'm not just spiderman. so... yeah, maybe spiderman's not the most selfish person ever, but... i am. the real me." 
"you have to care a lot about people to want to do what you do." you say, feeling better after talking to someone and hearing his reassurance. "you're not always spiderman, but... y'now, spiderman is always you. i'd say that makes you a good person." you say simply. you sigh, heart still hurting.  you start with a deep breath, then a quiet, "you ever feel stuck? like..."
"like you're playing two people at once?" he finishes. you swallow, feeling oddly seen by this masked stranger. "yeah, spiderman." you say dejectedly. 
-
and that was the start of an odd, unlikely friendship between you and the masked stranger. he'd stop by your building almost every other day, even if for a few minutes, always to check in on you, to ask how your day was. it made your chest fill with butterflies and the air fill with your laughter. 
despite your new friendship, things at midtown sort of took a turn for the worse. 
it was just richie, really. your black eye was gone but richie seemed to be compensating for something every time he saw you - the person who used to be a challenging enemy turned into a malicious tormentor, who would comment on every single thing you do. it was driving you mad. 
you're just lucky richie doesn't know that you do all the school's photography somehow, or at least, doesn't remember, because he's gone the days that you take photos for the decathalon, the honor society, and the band. each time you asked, someone told you some lame excuse like, 'oh, tozier's at the orthodontist.' 
richie doesn't have braces, though. 
you can’t help but wonder why richie’s never there, why he’s always sneaking off, buying new backpacks... bruises on his eyes...
the last straw is when you and stan are just trying to finish this replacement lab to get a better grade, and richie's sitting at the end of the table with bill denbrough, the two of them playing paper football and laughing loudly like they're fourth graders. 
you resist the urge to beg stan to get his moronic friends away from you, knowing that it would just insult the boy and get you nowhere. 
so, with gritted teeth and a tight grip on your pen, you work in relative silence with stan while the two imbeciles chuckle at each other at the other end of the room, disturbing the quiet peace of the library. 
"so, y/l/n, you goin' to prom?" richie asks out of the blue, feigning innocence. you grip your pen tighter, knowing it's a trap. don't bite, y/n. don't bite. don't bite, don't bite, don't bite-  "it's a little soon to be thinking about prom." you say, trying to skirt around the issue. 
"it's okay, not everyone can get a date, you can still go with friends." he says, also trying to sound nonchalant. you snort, "like you could get a date either." 
bill laughs as he pulls out some homework, having finally decided to make good use of his time. "you can go together, then." bill mutters. stan huffs a laugh at that, too. "i have plans that night." you say immediately, eyes not leaving your paper as stan smirks at you in amusement. 
"no, yeah, y/n. let's go together." richie says, "i can meet the ol' pops and get to see your mom again. that reminds me, i can’t stop by to see her, so give her a big old kiss from me tonight, will ya?"  he asks with a wink. 
"is everything a joke to you?" you ask, trying to hide your irritation by acting bored. you ignore the feelings you get from his wink. 
"only funny things, doll." richie smiles, a crooked grin that, if you didn't know his personality, would make you swoon. it's suddenly no wonder to you why the people at this school always giggle and whisper and laugh with him; he's utterly gorgeous. 
"it's not your fault your mom likes me more than your dad." he jokes, chuckling to himself. "shut up, i'm trying to do homework." bill says, then promptly kicks him under the table, which you're grateful for because the pain that flashes across your face momentarily is concealed from richie's gaze as he winces and ducks down for a second. 
that shouldn't have hurt you because he's obviously just joking with you and doesn’t know, but since the tenseness in your house recently and the ugly divorce, things have just been extremely hard. you cannot stand his audacity; richie thinks he can say whatever he want and get excused because he's too damn pretty. you clench your fists. 
"y/n, i'll give you ten dollars to slap him." stan says, barely paying attention; a pen hangs from between his lips, brows furrowed as he works on your reassignment, eyes calculating. you think, for a moment, how nice it'd be to be real friends with stan. if not for richie. 
and for some reason, in that split moment, you don't think. you're pent up, angry at the world, at your teacher, at richie, at your parents, and because you can't be friends with stan because richie gets in the way of everything - and you whirl around, catching richie by surprise as you land a slap to his face that resonates throughout the whole library. a gasp sounds from somewhere behind you as the librarian startles out of her work. 
suddenly, four pairs of eyes are staring at you. 
you blink back, face feeling as warm as richie's red cheek looks. 
the librarian didn't hesitate to send you and richie to the principal's office, resulting in a suspension for you and richie alike, the two of you not meeting eyes in the waiting room outside the administrative offices. 
the subway trip and then consequential walk home was lonely, rainy, and dismal.
- - - 
besides your parents and your immediate friends, the only other person you told about the suspension was spiderman, when he came to see you on the roof that afternoon. you told him about richie, how you'd decked him for hitting a sore subject with you. 
"you know, he seems like a dick but... i bet he means well. i'm sure he does." is all spiderman had said, acting fidgety before leaving. despite that, it had still felt good to know you could trust him. 
the next monday at school is when you see richie again, face clean and clear of any evidence of your fist. 
you were walking home from school when you passed across the football field. he was with his friends on the turf, seemingly not getting on the subway yet. they're sprawled out, all seven of them, smoking cigarettes or playing a game of travel chess, one of them reading a book. there’s an empty can of coke, one of the glass bottles, filled with gross water and cigarette butts. stan sits with richie, beverly marsh laying with her head in his lap as she smokes, sunglasses red and blocking the sun. 
before you get too close, before they can notice, you snap a photo of them. they just look timeless. 
but then, as you put away your camera, richie sees you. you get ready for a fight; but what comes is just  sheffling feet and fingers fidgeting slightly. "y/n." he starts off with as he walks up to you, all by himself. 
you watch him, your own eyes flowing with guilt. "hey, richie." you say, trying to be better about controlling your attitude. "i wanted to say i'm sorry." he says, and you widen your eyes. he what?
"i sometimes don't know how to stop running my mouth, and i went too far. i usually do. and i'm sorry, i just want to start fresh." he says honestly. you swallow - something about his words, about the way he said selfish...
you shake your head, "no, i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have hit you." richie shrugs, "i deserved it, s’okay." 
it's quiet. 
"being friends is good." you say, shrugging. "as long as i can still tell you that i think you're acting like a three year old."  "as long as i still can act like one." he counters, grinning. and then he's shaking your hand and walking away. 
you feel better the rest of the day. 
- - - 
"you know, i'm a photographer." you whisper that same night in the dark.  "you are?" the boy in the suit next to you sounds genuinely shocked. you beam, "y-yeah, i actually got a few wicked shots of you from a few weeks ago."
"are you the one that's been selling my photos to all the papers?" he asks, and you laugh, head tilting toward the sky. "no, not me." he hums, a laugh escaping that doesn't sound like his usual voice he uses around you. you've accepted that spiderman's been hiding his identity and voice from you because you may recognize him. you've also decided that he's probably from midtown - but there are over seven thousand students at midtown, so chances are still slim. 
why is it that this boy, who you don't even know the name of, has captured your attention? why do you feel like kissing him all the time? 
“oh, here’s a shot i took.” you say, pulling out the photo you’d just finished developing in the dark room today. “couple days ago. i just finished developing it.” 
you show it to him, and you can’t tell his reaction at all. “it’s not really impressive, i just - they’re just some kids in my class, but... i don’t know, there’s something about them that i just really think should be made into art.” 
he’s quiet after that, but holds on to the photo hard enough that you’re worried it may wrinkle. 
“god, y/n-” he stops himself, voice cracking and nearing the closest you’ve ever heard it to being true to him. not the weird, batman garbage. 
“this is cool. you should- you should show them, i bet they’d like it.” 
you scoff, “no, they wouldn’t.” you take the photo back, fingers tracing richie’s face, the way his lips curl around a cigarette, the way his dark hair and eyebrows and eyelashes clash with his skin and clothes. you shake your head, “this is the boy i hit. when i got suspended. i don’t think he’d like this very much. probably call me a freak.” 
you meet his eyes - or, you suppose you do - and then his hand is hovering in front of your face, debating. you don’t dare move, and then he’s combing hair behind your ear, giving you chills that run down your spine.
you clear your throat, smiling softly as he moves his hand away.
spiderman doesn’t say much after that. 
it’s minutes until he speaks again. "shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" he suddenly asks, and you sigh, beginning to pack up your things and gather your backpack. he follows you to the edge of the building and as you climb down the ladder to the fire escape, he webs himself and falls back, landing above you against the bricks when you stand up. 
you're nearly eye level now as he hangs upside down, listening to you rant. "-maybe i'll just walk to mary's place. it's not that far-" you cut yourself off as you're opening your window, eyes landing on the figure in your room, who looks just as confused as you. 
your eyes widen, "m-mom!" you say, alarmed as spiderman hangs next to you, just barely sealed from your mother's sight by the brick wall.
"is someone there with you, y/n?" she asks, tilting her head to get a look. you shake your head quickly, thankful that it's dark out and she can probably only see you, backlit by the lights from the alley below. she explains something about being unable to take you to your friend's house - and you nod along, willing for her to just leave. "that's okay, mom. i can take the subway." you say honestly. it's harder to drive around here, anyways. 
she finally leaves, and you let out a breath, unsure as to how she'd react to know you were with spiderman on the roof. you let out a small laugh, and so does he. 
"well, walking will be fine. she's just paranoid, and plus - i have you." you say, joking as you nudge his shoulder. but instead of laughing or going off the joke as he usually would, spiderman hums in agreement. 
"no matter what, you'll be safe. i promise." spiderman says from where he hangs upside down from the top edge of your fire escape, face almost level with yours. that makes your heart skip a beat, his words swirling around your stomach in a warm pool of comfort. 
you smile, "okay." you whisper. you believe it. 
then, before you slip into your window and he slips out into the night, you turn to him. you can only hope he's looking at you, the mask always leaving it to speculation.
 "can i try something? just once?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest as you step closer to him. he hesitates, and you wonder if he's biting his lips, or his cheek; if his eyes are wide or narrowed in thought. you wonder, for the thousandth time, what he looks like.
but eventually, it comes. "yes," he whispers.
gently, your fingertips find the edge of his mask down near his neck, and in the barely lit up corner of your fire escape you start to peel away his mask, revealing just his jaw, chin, and lips. goosebumps appear on his soft skin in the wake of your touch. 
you feel butterflies. 
his pale white skin reflects off the moonlight slightly, his jawline sharp as your fingers find their way across his skin, his mouth parting to take in a breath, lips full and red in the darkness. you wish you recognized these lips. 
in fact, a voice somewhere in you screams that you wish it was richie's lips. you abolish that thought before you have time to think about it.
you can tell he's nervous, but you don't know if it's because he doesn't trust you and thinks you're going to whip off his mask, or because he knows what you're about to do. you're pulled toward him by an invisible force, the kind that wishes and hopes and needs you to be closer to him, whoever he is. 
his jaw is structured and you feel it clench slightly under your hand as you cup his cheeks, barely raising on your tip toes as you near his upside-down face. you're not sure if he's breathing but, honestly, you know you aren't either. you just have to do this. so you close the gap. 
his lips are plush and less chapped than you'd expected, his presence warm and protecting and exuding bashfulness yet somehow also emanating confidence. he rises almost as the tide does at your grandma's old house in the east, tilting his head as your nose brushes against the skin on the side of his jaw. 
richie’s face flashes behind your closed eyes, and it makes you take in a sharp breath, realizing that yes, okay, maybe you do want to kiss richie. but you're not - you're kissing spiderman. you feel light, butterflies thrashing around. 
his hand, covered by his mesh suit's fabric, falls to the nape of your neck, upside down so his thumb rests right on the soft of your throat, where your heart thumps hard and quick against him. 
you swear you've never felt more like you're flying. you pull away after a few moments, your face burning even with the slight breeze. his hand stays on your neck for a split moment and then he lets it drop, returning to hold his web that keeps him suspended.
you watch with a small, shy smile as he bites his lip, containing what could only be the most beautiful smile you would ever see. you frown for a moment as you get that inkling again that you should know him. 
"please, what's your name?" you finally ask again. he had to trust you, right? you've had countless opportunities to pry, to rip his mask off, to find out yourself. but you want him to trust you with it, to want to tell you. 
his smile slowly fades, and yours does too. "can't you just tell me your name?" you whisper in desperate frustration. 
his mouth opens, then closes as if he decided against it. carefully, one hand pulls his mask back over his lips, concealing him once again as spiderman. the boy you finally knew for a mere minute is gone, probably forever. "i can't. i wish i could." 
"well, okay." you say, feeling heartbroken and frustrated. angry.  
"okay." it almost gets swallowed up by the breeze as you shut your window behind you. he's gone, swinging across streets and over buildings in the distance by the time you wipe your eyes of the tears. 
- - - -
you don't see spiderman the next week. 
it seems as though only knowing spiderman for a little longer than a month and suddenly not seeing him took more of a toll on you than you'd expected; you watch yourself go through the motions of each day with no complaint, barely any words, the world around you boring.
wake up, get ready, drink a breakfast shake, late for class, leave school, homework, wait on the rooftop for your friend who you know will never show. dinner. back on the rooftop. go to bed. 
you're about to leave school on friday when it hits you, the thing that has been missing from your regular school routine. and for some reason, not having been able to see him is just as painful as not seeing spiderman. 
richie. 
you don't know why you're feeling so emotional - or maybe it's just because as much as you hate each other, the fun rivalry you keep alive with him is what gets you through life at midtown. he keeps you on your toes. 
so you seek him out for what may be the first time in your life, just to find him out back on the turf in his usual spot with all his friends. 
"tozier." you call, halting all conversation with his group of losers as they cease their talking, staring up at you with seven pairs of owl eyes. you have no clue why you're nearly in tears. maybe, in an odd way, he's a replacement, a surrogate. for a friend that you'll never see again. and you're furious at both of them.
"where the fuck have you been?" you ask. 
you watch in slight surprise as the color drains from his face, eyes widening in shock. you didn't expect him to have this reaction, in fact - you came here to pick a fight, to get the opposite of... this. richie looks as if he's been caught in the biggest lie of his life, and it's unsettling. 
he seems to shake off whatever the fuck that emotion was he just had as he stutters, "what-what do you mean?" 
you scowl at him, " did you just give up? that easy, huh? i thought you were better than that." 
richie, for a split second, looks like he might get sick, or cry. it just makes you more confused and, for some reason, more angry. for no reason. "y/n, how did you find-" 
"it's been silent in the halls, tozier. i don't know if i should be thankful or weirded out that you decided to mature overnight. you being nice to me, not being a freak... it's weird, but it's... when i said i was done with your shit and you asked to be friends, i didn't mean that i wanted you to ignore me." 
he blinks his owlish eyes at you, "OH." he states loudly, pressing his fingers to his temples as he shakes his head, "christ, i thought- nevermind. you missed me that much, doll?" he tries to ease back into his teasing attitude but you can tell it's forced. and you don't know why. his friends suddenly all look relieved too, as if they know something big that you don't. 
"forget it. this was so stupid." you mutter, walking past them briskly, barely even catching stan's eye. you don't cry until you get on the subway. 
that night, you almost didn't go up onto the roof. 
why should you? spiderman wasn't your friend anymore, he clearly got scared away when you kissed, or when you asked him who he was. it hurts, you think as you look at the dark skyline of queens, it hurts that he won't trust you with something as simple as a name. 
but you're still up there, staring at the cloudless sky and thinking of the taste of those lips as a whoosh, thud and a groan jolt you from your tranquil misery. 
you don't believe your eyes at first, but when the figure stumbles toward you, arm reaching to its neck, you definitely recognize him. "h-hey?" you say nervously, squinting against the dying light to try and see why spiderman's bent like that, stumbling to you, until he falls nearly at your feet. 
you gasp as you get a closer look; it's hard to see with the red of his suit, but he's got a fair blood stain coming out of his neck area, a slash through the neck that leads towards the collarbone. it's not fatal, and probably won't need stitches, but it sure looks like he's in a lot of pain. 
"y-your neck is bleeding." you say, eyes wide in a panic, "are-are you, do i need to get you to a hospital?" you rush, heart thumping. the boy shakes his head, though that clearly causes him pain. "my wounds- they'll regenerate quick enough. do you-do you have bandages?" he asks, and you nod aggressively, running a hand through your hair. "yes, let's go to my room." you say, trying to stay as calm as he is. with a lot of effort and sharp cries of pain, you finally make it into your room through the window on the fire escape, gently helping spiderman to your bed. 
you allow yourself ten seconds in your bathroom to gather your breaths and thoughts before taking the first aid kit and rushing back to the bleeding boy, whose name is still a mystery. 
your hands are shaking as you undo the box, and his hands suddenly fall against yours and squeeze. you look to him then, willing for the tears of fear to dry up and go away. "it's okay." he says, and then you feel even more rotten because spiderman is hurt in your bed and you're still making him comfort you. 
"no-i know. you just surprised me, is all." you trail off, pulling your hands from his to pull out antiseptic ointment, cleaning wipes and swabs. "what- um, what happened?" 
"mugging, guy had a knife. i was trying to get the purse from his hands and he slashed me. it's really not-" he coughs a bit, a fresh squeeze of blood seeping into the fabric. "-not bad. honest." 
you shake your head, looking at him. "i have to take off your mask." you say solemnly. "or else it'll get bad. infected, or- heal into the mask." 
he nods lightly, "i know." is all he says. his voices is laced with nerves. 
your hands are still shaky when you reach to pull up the mask. he makes no attempt to move except to shift himself on your bedspread. you slowly peel the mask, eyes focused on the wound and not on the boy's face. but then, you can't help it. when the mask slips off, the boy's eyes are screwed tight. 
but your breath catches in your throat when you take in his face. 
it's richie. 
of course it is. you press your lips together, forcing yourself to focus on his wound and not all the thoughts swirling in your mind. you don’t talk to each other, one out of anger and one out of pain, and he grips your arm, hand warm on your skin.
you can barely focus as you go to work on his wound, but you’re glad that by the time you’re almost finished, your anger has ebbed away and you’re strangely calm. 
you don't meet eyes until you've got his cut cleaned out and you're satisfied it won't get infected. his eyes are nervous, anxious, scared. yours are surprisingly calm, and almost emotionless. 
"hi, doll." he says, eyes no longer screwed shut, neither out of pain nor anxiety over revealing his identity. 
"do your friends know?" is all you ask. he gives you a curt not as you shakily wrap the gauze around the nape of his neck, figuring a bandaid would come right off. his hand falls from your arm as you move it around his head. 
"i had all them, but i wanted to see you." 
his words send warm waves through your body and you bite your lip.
"why didn't you tell me? the other night?" you ask shortly, knowing that fighting won't get you anywhere. 
“look, i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, i really am. but slipping the fact that i developed spider-like superhuman abilities into an ‘are we friends or do we hate each other’ conversation is pretty fuckin' difficult.” he defends. 
you nod, because, after consideration, you think you would have probably done the same. "okay. if your friends know, why didn't you..."  you don't know how to phrase it. 
"why didn't i go to one of them?" he sighs, sitting up as you finish clasping the gauze. he rubs his eyes and you realize you're not used to him without glasses - does he even need those anymore? his eyes are so blue, so warm. his eyelashes are long. 
"i missed you. or, i - i don't know, i just... i needed to show you. to tell you. i was afraid to put you in danger but you deserve to know.” he says, honestly.  
you hum, flicking a piece of rubble from his shoulder and then using that as an excuse to run your hands over the material there, feeling his muscles under your touch. "and you had to get stabbed to work up the courage?" you tease. 
he beams, despite himself. and it's beautiful. 
"how else could i get your attention, doll? i tried everything else." 
you shake your head, huffing a bit. "can't believe you let me kiss you." you bury your face in your hands, feeling hot and embarrassed. "i'm sorry you had to do that." you squeak out, mortified. 
it's quiet, and then, "i would do it again." 
you look at him, from where you sit - both so close, almost touching... his breath almost hits your face. "really?" he looks at you like you've grown three heads. "yes." he deadpans, "obviously. why else could i have been spending so much time with you?" 
you laugh, tilting your head back. "so you only want me for my lips?" you joke even though you're nervous. richie groans, hands tangling in his nest of windswept curls. it's charming and it makes your stomach flutter. 
"y/n, don't make this so hard." he begs. unable to help yourself, you perk up, "that's what she said-" you start, but then richie kisses you for the second time. 
he's nearly crashing into you, lips finding yours desperately through his own smile of disbelief - that you'd said that, or that he's kissing you? you don't care as you kiss back, hands finding purchase on his chest or in his hair. 
then he's regaining his strength as your tongue finds his and he nudges you over, rolling so he lays above you. you pull him between your hips as he bites your lip gently and then moves on to kiss your neck, filling you with heat and butterflies. 
"i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner." he whispers into the shell of your ear as he bites a soft mark on your upper throat, and you sigh. "god, it-it's fine-" 
but then it's too late, because your bedroom door flies open.
startled,  you and richie break apart, eyes wide and lips bruised; blood staining his spiderman suit as he lays on top of you, your legs fastened around his hips and your hands tinged with his blood and sweat, both of you breathing wildly. 
your mom stands in front of you, eyes wide and mouth agape in near horror - spiderman in bed with you. "hello, ma'am." richie breathes out and you resist the urge to smother yourself with a pillow. 
"just... keeping your daughter safe, y'know, friendly neighborhood spiderman."
 tag list: @gabiatthedisco  @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​  @sft-core @clownsloveyou​  @moon-shine-baby​  @daughter-of-the-stars11   @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @chl0bee​  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-hargreeves @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy ​
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rintarous · 4 years
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twin headcannons
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BAKUGO KATSUKI:
literally the definition of ‘double the trouble’
you are the reincarnation of mitsuki but with masaru’s hair color
but unlike bakugo who doesn’t know to tone it down a bit, you are bit more calmer than him
but once something annoys you, just imagine bakugo’s angry state but double that
yeah.. chaotic
you two are always seen together
attached by the hip
like one can’t go to the mall without the other
it just feels and looks wrong
you’re there to back him up when he gets into arguments and same goes back at you
remember those general studies students who gave bakugo the stank eye at the sports fest??
i think it’s safe to assume they wont be looking at your directions anytime soon
bakugo claims you’re the scariest person he knows
though quirk wise, you aren’t as powerful as him cs he has more control,,
but you’d still be a force to be reckoned with
the only difference you have two have is that you’re actually friends with midoriya
and the fact you can’t cook for shit
bakugo wonders how are you even related if you can’t cook to save your life
so this obviously means he’s the older twin
by like a minute
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MIDORIYA IZUKU:
imagine the deku rn but even more pure
identical twins at best like two freckled broccolis talking to each other
ur nicknames are izukone and izuktwo
unlike,, deku who was quirkless,,, you had your mom’s quirk
but stronger
so everyone you meet was like ‘wtf’ at first cs how come you had a quirk and deku doesn’t
so its safe to assume kacchan didn’t pick on you that much unlike deku
you once followed him late at night to that one beach he keeps mentioning and when you got there you saw all might talking to your bro so thats how you knew about his sudden power
which kinda scared deku at first cs what if you tell on other people
other than that, you are his secret keeper and the keeper of his hero analysis notebooks
you are izuku’s no. 1 hypeman and pillar of support
so when deku breaks his bones, it’s not only recovery girl and inko’s scolding he’ll be hearing 
also if kacchan decides to pick on ur poor brother, expect his ass to be whacked with something near you
and kacchan can’t do shit 
cs lowkey he respects you as a person
and you know his deepest secrets but thats not the point
the two wholesome cuties of 1a 
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TODOROKI SHOTO:
those evil twins you’d find in an anime sorta thing
very cold and unapproachable at first
you two only talk amongst yourselves instead of befriending your classmates
so people would label you as a stuck up bitch 
(just like how ur dad used to be oof) 
but eventually due to circumstances, you were able to befriend yaomomo first 
your quirk is the same as todoroki but on opposite sides 
so right - fire / left - ice
but somehow your hair isn’t half white and half red, you got endeavors red hair but with bits of rei’s white hair
imagine fuyumi’s hair but reversed 
kinda cool actually 
you’re always by his side like no cap
its like todoroki cant function if you’re not beside him 
and when the sports fest happened, you weren’t able to be apart of that match stuff cs the heat got to you 
so you were todoroki’s cheerleader 
and to your dismay you sat with your dad and together you cheered ‘SHOOUUTOOOOOOOOO” with him its kinda funny
sometimes you get into fights with ur twin bro
and it ALWAYS ends up messy
like even iida cant do shit once you two start arguing
the room is either REALLY really cold or hotter than hell 
no in between   
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d0llpie · 3 years
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Hi love✨ Can I request #16 from your prompt list with Atsumu? I’d like angst with a bittersweet ending, like they started dating because they were very different and found that interesting but as the time passed and the lockdown started, they realized that the differences were a lot and became tired of the constant arguments and not been able to see each other so they broke up but still in love:(
sorry if it’s very long and specific🥺 last week I broke up with my s/o and it was like this, our compatibility isn’t good and even if we love each other, we are not meant to be
Atsumu x reader, angst
A/N: Hi lovely, i’m sorry you’re going through this right now, i hope this is okay <3
Prompt: “i know i’m not what you signed up for”
wc: 1.4k
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“Y/N, it’s one game pleasee, you never come, you’ve already met Suna and Osamu you don’t even have to talk to the team afterwards.” Your best friend, who also happened to be Suna’s girlfriend pleaded at you. You playfully shoved her back “Fine, but if you’re ditching me for Suna after the game you have to buy my drinks,”  “Ugh, yes! Rin she’ll come!” Suna came out from behind the gym where you both were talking “Oh, hey Suna” he nodded at you, draping his arm over your best friend’s shoulders “Tsumu saw you guys talking, he thinks you’re cute” you rolled your eyes at that. You knew of Atsumu and his reputation thanks to his fangirls, who usually end up in tears after encounters with him on bad days. “Well that’s nice.” You said sarcastically, “Oh, just remember not to cheer while he serves tomorrow night okay?” “Bsf/n, why would i cheer for him?” she scoffed “To show support? Anyway Rin and I will pick you up tomorrow, we’re going to go eat now mkay?” You nodded “See ya later” you waved and Suna nodded in acknowledgment. 
~
“Wow are the games usually this packed?” you squeezed past a group of girls in the aisles, settling into a seat next to bsf/n. “Kinda? It’s extra packed with both Atsumu and Oikawa’s fangirls, just ignore them- Oh there’s Suna!” You watched her wave excitedly at her boyfriend as he emerged with his team, the twins on either side of him. “Did he just wink at you?” bsf/n gestured over to Atsumu “Don’t know, he’s jumping up and down now at Osamu, geez he’s loud, Osamu is hotter anyway..” “They’re identical twins y/n, you can find him attractive.” She teased and you focused on the whistle blowing to ignore her. 
After the match ended, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed, Tsumu was a tad erratic but he was talented nonetheless, his setter rivalry against Oikawa was definitely entertaining. “Hey, um, Atsumu? You were really great out there! You too Suna, all of you guys.” the team thanked you while Atsumu smirked at you, seeming amused. “Didn’t hear ya cheering out there for me doll” you scoffed at his cocky behaviour but felt your cheeks heating up at his casual pet name. “So, can i get yer number” you don’t know what about Atsumu was so magnetic but you felt yourself taking your phone from your pocket before you even responded. “Mhm, here” you smiled up at him and his cocky demeanour softened for a moment before he poked your forehead to distract you. “Wow real mature Tsumu” “Hmm already onto nicknames now y/n” he cocked a brow “Says you, doll~” he laughed at you, oblivious to the knowing stare of his twin.
~
After that night you started attending all the games, even attending practice some days just to talk to Atsumu about a new show or school work, him not having much to add too on the latter topic. A few weeks passed and you both started dating, most of your dates consisting of playful bickering in his house over what snacks to eat, what movie to watch and ended with Osamu yelling at you both to shut up. Atsumu brought out the fun side of you and you were able to ground him when he was out of hand.
“Tsums?” you looked up at him from his chest, tracing small patterns on his stomach. He hummed, looking down at you and pausing the movie when he saw your serious expression “what’s up doll?” you sighed, you felt stupid for being insecure but you couldn’t help it. You knew you weren’t his usual type, hell you guys rarely agreed on anything, but you knew he loved you, you both could agree on that much. Still, you couldn’t help but wander, where you really what he wanted? “I was just thinking, what do you like about me?” his fingers that were running through your hair stopped “get out of that pretty little head of yours, i don’t want anybody else, i don’t care about what anybody else is like you’re what i want and who i love okay?” “okay” you smiled against his chest as he pecked ur head “why? you haven’t found someone prettier than me have you?” “mm just Samu” he feigned a hurt expression, pouting like a child.
~~
Since then your relationship had changed over the years, the love you both shared was still just as strong and snarky as when you first met however snarky quickly turned to subtle digs, unsaid questions led to petty arguments where you both exploded. It was hard but he was always there afterwards, arms open to tell you how much he loved you and you the same.
Once quarantine started you weren’t worried, atsumu had less practice and there was more time for you both to talk on the phone. Conversations seemed forced, trying to find topics for both of you to talk about that extended beyond small talk. Communicating these problems was even harder, you didn’t know what to say or where to start. You only found the separation harder as time went on. You valued communication but even you found it hard to bring up issues when you were with Atsumu. You always had to anyway since Tsumu had a habit of bottling it up until you brought something up, leading to a fight. 
You’d both been arguing for so long your throat felt raw, you don’t even remember what started it this time but things piled on and you just kept arguing. “Well fuck sake y/n! At least take some fucking responsibility, not everything is my fucking fault and i’m sick of taking the blame so you can keep your pride!” you scoffed “MY pride? pull your head out of your ass Tsumu, maybe you take the blame a lot because, i don’t know, you’re at fault? I’m the one who tried to talk about this instead of just yelling about the past !” you continued arguing until you felt tired. You couldn’t be bothered anymore, you knew deep down you couldn’t be bothered with the constant fights, disagreements that led to personal digs, you stared at him through the screen, wondering how it ended up like this. “Tsumu i’m tired.” your change in tone had him pausing mid sentence, he took notice of your exhausted expression and assumed the worst. “y/n...you know i don’t mean what i say, you aren’t tired of me right?” it was strange hearing how vulnerable he sounded, you wanted nothing more to hold him but you couldn’t continue on like this and you both knew that. “Tsums, i think we-” “Y/n i love you. I know i’m not what you signed up for, i know we aren’t perfect but i love you.” tears were rolling down your cheeks, you didn’t want to do this, but you both needed this “Tsums i love you. I love you too, so so much, you’re my person but this isn’t good for us, maybe its the separation but we need some time apart, to figure out ourselves alone before we can be together. I know deep down you feel the same.” You continued to cry while Atsumu watched, heartbroken at how broken you looked. “Y/N, I’m sorry for all the fights, I never meant to escalate things, I was just more agitated, i couldn’t take it out in practice and i am not using that as an excuse i swear. I-I knew i was getting carried away in the heat of the moment but i love you okay? You know that.” you sniffled, wiping underneath your eyes “I love you too, and i’m sorry too okay? I’m not innocent here either.” you chuckled lightly, “take care of yourself Atsumu.” you offered him a teary smile, hearing a small “Goodbye y/n..” before you closed the lid to your computer, breathing in shakily. 
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steepgan · 3 years
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someone dear (ii) - d. ragnvindr x f!reader
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PART I - PART II - PART III
diluc pov... im practicing writing for this fic im writing so sorry if its BAD... also TW BL//D ..!! hmm i definitely drew inspiration from pride and prejudice while writing this LMFAOOO um <3 sry jane austen for ruining ur book >,< also i did not edit this either um.
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Diluc had always known that [Name] was committed to money, if not her job. He didn’t know why. It was obviously something very personal to [Name], and he didn’t have enough time to meddle into his employee’s affairs. If he questioned her about it, she might’ve felt compelled to tell him. Or she’d request him to pay her for the secret.
He was more than willing to give [Name] a little money. She was a hard worker as well as a young woman of excellent tastes. Given her personality, he would have thought her as a bartender for Cat’s Tail—a rival of his with excellent drinks that was taking Mondstadt’s wine industry by storm. But [Name] was here, working diligently with the same old grin on her face.
There would be some days where she’d request the bard to play a somber song because she thought it was fitting for her mood. Diluc’d overheard her complaining to Charles about getting a cut on her hand from picking up shards of glass.
She worked so frequently that Angel’s Share wouldn’t be Angel’s share without her. Perhaps she’d been saving up for something big, like a trip. Diluc could see her roaming around the seven nations with no clear destination. She had a wanderer’s soul, really. If she ever left, would Diluc be able to find a replacement?
Certainly he would. 
[Name] was just a worker, and it was Diluc’s duty to see to it that he had excellent employees. And if she was good and brave, then the rest of the city could be good and brave.
“Charles,” Diluc called out. The Abyss Order was still at large. Tonight he’d roam the city streets to keep the people safe. “I can take tonight’s shift for you.”
The bartender bowed graciously. Days off for him were very rare.  “Thank you, Master Diluc,” he said before casting a side glance at [Name], “although have you thought about taking [Name]’s shift instead? She’s been working lots lately…”
[Name], who’d overheard them, lifted her head up from the cupboard beneath the bar she was cleaning. She hit her head on the counter and wobbled over. Scratching the crown of her head, she chuckled nervously. “Oh, I’m all right! I’d be happy to work a little extra anyway.”
Diluc furrowed his brows. It’d be better if he had the tavern to himself so his identity wouldn’t be exposed. Unfortunately, [Name] was such a good worker that she’d seen him come back into the tavern after a good fight one too many times. Firing her was out of the question because she did her job well, and it would be terrible of him to get rid of her because of his bad blood with the knights. 
However, [Name] didn’t really care, which was good. He didn’t give that raise to her for nothing. Diluc said, “[Name], are you sure?”
“No worries, Master Diluc,” she said. 
And then it happened to be that night where Diluc stumbled back to Angel’s Share with his arm noticeably limp and his black clothes damp with blood.
It was just [Name] sitting at the bar, flipping through a magazine of catalogs Diluc couldn’t be bothered with. His arm was searing with pain—to the point where he could feel nothing at all. Numbness. It wasn’t too bad; he’d dealt with worser injuries. 
He considered himself lucky enough to find Angel’s Share in the first place, even with the lanterns lighting up the road. Diluc had to avoid all the usual patrols of the Favonius Knights. 
Diluc was blinking through sweat, trying to register the bright lights of inside the tavern. Everything was so spotty and brilliant with gold explosions. He shouldn’t have decorated the inside so lavishly. [Name]’s head jolted up at the sight of him. Had she been falling asleep on the job? How unprofessional… but there were no people in here, so Diluc didn’t care.
With the decorations so shiny behind her, she looked like a fancy chandelier. Like the one at Dawn Winery. So shimmery. 
[Name] rushed to Diluc’s side. “Master Diluc? Are you okay? You’re—you’re severely injured!”
“I’m fine,” he gritted out.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s not the end of the world, is it?” Diluc snapped. [Name] was taken aback. He sighed. “Sorry. Just leave me be. I’ll go upstairs and—”
His world started spinning. [Name] caught him.
She looked frantic. “I’m not the best at wrapping up wounds, but I know a trick or two from Lisa!” Diluc’s disdain must’ve shown because [Name] immediately added, “I know she’s a part of the knights, but healing is healing. Let’s get you to the bar.”
[Name] was probably curious. She might’ve wanted to know what Diluc was doing out at night and how he’d gotten himself injured. Diluc tugged himself away from [Name]’s grasp. “No,” he said. He could heal himself. He could handle it on his own. “I got it.”
“Let me do this,” she insisted, “temporarily.”
Diluc had always been alone. He worked on missions by himself. He protected the city of Mondstadt by himself. The Knights of Favonius were no good, really. It was up to him alone. Just Diluc. It's always been just Diluc. It was just Diluc when he left the knights, and it was just Diluc when he insisted that Inspector Eroch take his father’s death more seriously.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Leave me alone. Pretend you saw nothing.”
I’m injured, he thought. I need medical assistance. I know some medicine. No, I don’t. There’s painkillers upstairs. Yeah… painkillers upstairs.
[Name] made up her mind and grabbed Diluc’s good arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re very hurt. And I know you told me to leave you alone, but you look like you’re in pain. I can’t do much, but at least let me help you just for a second.”
No, I’m doing just spiffy! Diluc wanted to say. But that wouldn’t help his case. He’d gone through worse alone. An arm cut was nothing compared to his past. This wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt so, so bad. He’d live, though, and as long as Diluc had all his limbs intact by the end of the day, he’d still protect Mondstadt.
[Name] took advantage of Diluc’s internal struggle to sit him down at the bar. She ran to the back to grab supplies before coming back out. She dropped a pair of fine scissors, swore, and then picked it back up. [Name] forced Diluc’s coat off of him, tossing it aside.
Diluc had seen [Name] eye his nice coat from time to time, and he had half a mind to give it to her just for fun. But she paid no mind to it now. Blood was smeared over his arm.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “It matches the color of your hair.”
“Thanks,” he said. The pain spiked. “I don’t suppose you want financial compensation for taking care of me.”
She shook her head. [Name] is good and brave, Diluc had thought then. She snipped a certain length of a linen bandage she’d brought out from the back. “I’m still working within work hours. The usual pay is enough for me.”
Diluc had a lot to say.
“But I’m not the best at wrapping wounds,” [Name] admitted. “Promise me you’ll see a professional after this. Hopefully one of your personal assistants?”
“Okay,” he said.
“This might sting,” she warned. She dabbed a clean cloth into alcohol before wiping it gently over his arm. She held his arm gently, her cool hand keeping him steady while she cleaned away the germs and infection. Compared to the searing pain of the cut, the alcohol was nothing.
I don’t like this, Diluc thought. [Name] knows too much. I’m no longer alone. I don’t like this at all.
The night was silent, only filled with [Name] working with her limited materials to patch Diluc up. It was awkward, and the tension was as thick as burnt steak. 
For his pride and for the livelihood of Mondstadt, [Name] could not know that he was protecting the city at night. She was too friendly with the knights. She talked way too much. She could accidentally spill Diluc’s secrets. This was not good.
“Have you ever thought about working at the winery itself?” Diluc proposed. If firing her wouldn’t do the trick, then maybe sending her away from the city would.
[Name] looked perplexed. “Why?”
Diluc tried to imagine [Name] as a maid at his winery, keeping the interior clean. [Name] could drag a drunkard outside no problem, but could she clean the fine, delicate decorations that made the inside of the winery so neat? Could she be happy working there? Frankly, Diluc couldn’t imagine [Name] as someone who’d enjoy working at the winery at all.
“You wouldn’t make a good maid,” he said out of the blue.
“What?” [Name] furrowed her brows. “I’d make a great maid. I’d be the best maid ever.”
“Prove it,” he said. “You should work at the winery. It’s a bit of a distance, but I could pay for your travel fare.”
“Same wage?”
“Same wage.”
[Name]’s fingers held the bandage as she began to wrap it around his arm. She worked quickly with the skill of a bartender who had plenty of customers and little time. Her touch danced over his skin, and he was fighting the rising urge to blush.
“Thank you, Master Diluc, but I’m okay. I like working here. I’d imagine it’s more fun,” she said. “If it’s the same wage, I might as well enjoy being here in the city while working.”
“You care about fun?” Diluc was surprised. Given the last six months, he thought all she cared about was small talk and money. “All right, then.”
“I can’t believe you got hurt,” she said. [Name] almost sounded mad. “It’s not so bad to ask others for help when you need it.”
You should be mad at me for other things.
“I can do things alone,” Diluc said. “I don’t exactly need anyone, really. This is just a one time thing. I could  have healed myself on the second floor, but you had to interfere—”
“Master Diluc,” [Name] said, “I don’t know what failed you or who let you down, but we do need people.”
Diluc was growing cross. His ugly pride poked his chest. “I know that.”
People needed each other! It was how civilizations came about, and it was how empires fell. That was why he protected Mondstadt. That was why he prowled the streets. He did it because the people needed someone competent, and he did it because the knights would let the people down just as they did he. 
People needed him. 
“Dependency isn’t bad,” [Name] further added. “One day, you will find people who helped you, and you will help them in return. It’s only natural to need people, Master Diluc. We all need people. We all need company.”
“Too much dependency is—” The pain ran up his arm.
“Well, of course,” [Name] said. “Independence is a good thing, too. It’s highly sought after. Maybe being a lone wolf is exactly up your ally, Mr. Diluc, but the idea of a lone wolf is somewhat of an oxymoron. Wolves always prefer to travel in a pack.”
Do I really want to be alone all my life? Diluc thought. “I guess you’re right,” he said instead. “You have my thanks.”
“You pay me,” she pointed out cheerfully, and Diluc’s heart panged.
“[Name].” The words left his mouth before he could even think. “Why do you work so hard? Is there something you work toward?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “Being financially stable has always been a dream of mine. As well as putting enough food on the table and buying all these nice clothes.”
Diluc was surprised. “No family?”
“I do have, but they’re in Liyue as of now. We talk occasionally, but I like to live my own life how I like it.” [Name] nodded. “If I work for anything at all, I’d have to say I work for myself. I like working here, and I work because the journey is just as fun as the destination. A cozy retirement is not worth enjoying if one didn’t work hard to get there. Is there someone or something you work for, Master Diluc?”
Many gods ran through his mind. Deities upon deities. Alters upon alters.
“Mondstadt and its citizens,” Diluc responded. “The knights are the definition of inefficient. I clear up a few enemies on the streets sometimes”— he’d realized he essentially spilled his secret hobby to [Name]—“but it’s nothing big.”
“Take pride, Master Diluc,” [Name] said. Had she figured it out? Diluc felt small underneath her working fingertips. “I take it you’re a nocturnal vigilante?”
Diluc swore internally. “I suppose.”
“So did you choose the name Darknight Hero? You’re the talk of the town.”
It was good that the people were romanticizing his adventures. It gave them a sense of peace and normalcy. However, the name was absolutely atrocious. “I don’t like that name,” Diluc said.
“What do you prefer they call you, then?”
Preferably, nothing. Diluc did not do this for attention. He was supposed to be one with the shadows. But [Name] made him feel seen. He felt exposed to some terrible light.
Diluc had to remember that [Name] was an employee under him. She was one of the many citizens he had to protect. She shouldn’t be wrapping up his arm like this. Diluc should be writhing in pain alone upstairs with [Name] none the wiser. 
Her touch was soft. Her fingertips barely touched the surface of his skin. Her hands were no longer cool but warm and alive. She took care of him so gently that Diluc forgot he was a weapon and felt like a cherished object.
For someone who claimed she wasn’t proficient in wound-wrapping, she did a decent temporary job. Of course, a visit to Diluc’s private doctor was still necessary. 
Though her company was nice, Diluc was accustomed to flying solo.
“You must really love Mondstadt,” [Name] said. “You’re a very good man.”
Diluc opened his mouth and then closed it.
[Name] finished wrapping his wounds. The bandage was snug around his arm, and Diluc found comfort in its presence. It was far too bad someone would take it off later to properly inspect Diluc’s cut. “Well, that's about it for my medical expertise which is ultimately none.”
“Thank you,” Diluc said. 
“I would advise you to return to your winery, but it’s nighttime, and there’s monsters prowling about,” [Name] said. “I don’t doubt your athletic abilities, but you’re hurt. You should maybe eat something and rest. Early in the morning you can leave.”
[Name] was in no position to tell Diluc what to do. Diluc was her employer, her—Diluc looked at the time. [Name] was technically done with work. Technically speaking, Diluc wasn’t the boss of her as of right now. 
And Diluc knew that [Name] was simply offering suggestions. Good suggestions. His pride as a hero told him to refuse and make the trek back to the winery by himself. But his reason pulled him back to her. 
“Would you like something to eat, Master Diluc?”
“All right.”
Soon, Diluc’s arm was noticeably better. After consulting a legitimate professional, Diluc took great care of his arm and trained it back to health. His days were moreover the same after that. He swept the city streets and night and returned to his winery every so often, as he couldn’t let sales go down while he was playing hero.
Though, what kind of hero gets injured? Diluc thought to himself bitterly.
[Name] had called him a good man; well, of course, he was. The knights were anything but good and competent. But was he a good hero? What sort of hero spat swears and curses at the knights? What sort of hero harbored a deep, festering hatred for the very institution that supposedly protected the people?
She was the only one who’d touched him like that. She touched him so softly when wrapping him up that Diluc felt more a man than a hero. It wasn’t good. Diluc needed his priorities straight. He was grateful for [Name] and for that night, and this new feeling of gratefulness was lodged in his throat.
He’d offered to financially compensate, but [Name] turned the offer down. She was weird. She salivated at the thought of money, but when Diluc put more money on the table, [Name] refused to eat.
Diluc was not used to feeling owed to anyone but himself. He had a feeling that he’d feel more gratefulness to others in the future, and that scared him. If they were as stubborn as [Name], then how would he pay them back?
Did he need to pay her back? Was it only natural for people to rely on each other? Did he always have to be alone? Could he really move forward without the feeling of solidarity?
It was all right to be alone. But it was not so bad to rely on other people once in a while.
Some days, he’d see [Name] feeding a dog leftovers through the window of his tavern. She’d be crouched over, whistling and patting the ground to get the dog’s attention. The dog would wag his tail delightfully and trot over to her. And Diluc had half a mind to warn [Name] about infection, but the dog seemed awfully fond of her.
Then there were some days where she was so happy that you could clean the tavern free of charge. While money was a prospect to her,  she seemed to act on her own whims and happiness. If that happiness was to clean the tavern without pay, then she would.
She was strange. An enigma. She was the most magical a human being could get.
Diluc and Charles were once sitting at the bar while [Name] was dusting the nooks and crannies of the stairway, humming to herself.
“She ought to be happier more often.”
Charles raised a brow at Diluc’s words. Could the impassive Diluc be feeling love? “Why?”
“So she can clean my tavern for free more often.”
“Sure, Master Diluc.”
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PART I - PART II - PART III
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nukapind · 3 years
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5 with Bakugou? I was initially going to request Todoroki but I can only imagine how amazingly horrendous Mitsuki trying to help Katsuki score would end up lmao
Mother Knows Best (Bakugo x Reader)
I like the way you think. I have a family that schemes so honestly, this wasn’t too far from my own mother she’s tried to set me up with some guys. Feel free to send in more requests— you can find the prompt list here— and as always, this was crossposted to my AO3.
5. “I was having lunch with my mom and she caught me staring at you and she’s asking for your number and trying to be my wingman” + Bakugo
___
“Do you want a water refill?”
“… Sure.”
Maybe Katsuki should’ve been paying attention to whatever his mom was droning on about, but at the moment he couldn’t bother to even pretend to listen to her. Instead, he was focused on the server of the mediocre cafe, filling his glass— to which he grunted his thanks— and cleaning up after the damn messes the other customers couldn’t be bothered to clean.
“Katsuki! Are you even paying attention to me?” Mitsuki’s irritated voice dug into Katsuki’s ears, snapping him out of his trance. Of course he hadn’t been paying attention, and both of them knew it. He shifted, pushing the rice in his bowl around boredly. He would have been just fine without going to lunch with his mom, but at her insistence, she’d managed to drag him out to some cafe he didn’t really care for.
But the staff had definitely caught his eye.
“Honestly Katsuki, you need to start behaving more like a young man rather than some brat! I thought that damn school would help you grow up.” He scowled at her words, but she didn’t seem to be put off by it at all. Did he really spend his day off from school to come and listen to his mother’s nagging. Rolling his eyes, they seemed to settle right back on the server wiping down tables. Chin rested in the palm of his hand as he toyed with the chopsticks in his other hand. He watched as you seemed so intent on cleaning the table, brows furrowing as you stacked the plates up before carrying them off to the kitchen— leaving Katsuki with nothing else to watch. Huffing, he turned back to his mother, ready to listen to whatever nonsense she was spouting.
Only to find her smirking right at him.
“Got a little crush?” She cooed, causing anger and just a bit of shame to bubble in his gut. “Of course not, don’t be an idiot!” The smug look on her face didn’t ease up, and unfortunately he knew he’d gotten his stubbornness (and really most of his personality) from her. “Young love is so cute, reminds me of when I got your father to go out with me.” He’d heard that story way too many times, she’d pestered his dad until he finally went out with her— it was a story that he wasn’t sure she should be proud of.
“I’m not in love, so shut the hell up!” The intended hiss came out as more of an embarrassed groan. He was one of the strongest students in his grade, he fearless when it came to fighting— so why was his mom’s stupid teasing so mortifying at the moment? She took a sip of her soda before giving a thoughtful hum, deep in contemplation before  she snapped her fingers. “That’s it! Dating’ll help you grow up!” A grin formed on her face and he furrowed his brows.
“The fuck are you even talking about?”
Mitsuki’s grin stretched even wider as she stood from her seat, purse in hand. “You like the server, I’ll get their number for you.” She spoke as if this was common sense, like it was completely normal for a mother to do this. His hand snapped out, gripping her purse tightly. “I fucking swear to God, you better not.” He tried his hardest to keep his voice low, he couldn’t risk anyone else hearing the embarrassing exchange, it would ruin his entire image.
“I’ll leave right now.” His threat fell on deaf ears. “Right fucking now.” A glint was ever present in his mother’s eye, cunning and a little too ready to meddle in her son’s love life— ready to ignore his protests. A staring match ensued, two identical pairs of red eyes waiting for the other to back down. “Is… is everything alright here?” Both their heads whipped over, only to see your confused face watching them. If Katsuki knew his mother, she wasn’t giving up on this discussion anytime soon. For a brief second, he did consider making a break for it— the only thing stopping him was the thought that it’d be dining and dashing and he’d never be able to come back here again if he did. 
“We’re fine—” “My son wants to know if he can have your number, he thinks you’re cute.” He was immediately cut off, the unfamiliar feeling of mortification already managing to creep into his body. Heat built up in his cheeks as you dropped the empty tray you’d been carrying.
“I’m gonna order some food for your father, I’ll give you kids some privacy.” “What the fuck—” His mom must have lived for embarrassing him, now he was stuck here with the server he’d been ogling  observing the entire time he’d been here. Scowling, he turned to face you. “Don’t listen to her, the hag’s crazy.” 
“Ah… So you don’t want my number?” He watched as you picked the tray back up, settling yourself in his mother’s abandoned. His brows furrowed and he crossed his arms. “I’ll take it if you’re giving it.” He didn’t miss the confused look on your face as you reached into your apron, pulling out a pen and notepad nevertheless.
“I thought I shouldn’t listen to her?”
His eyes narrowed, giving a quick glance to his mom— who’d (much to his chagrin) been giving him a thumbs-up— before turning back back to you. Gritting his teeth, he had to put his pride aside. “I lied, she was telling the truth.” That earned him a sweet smile from you, and his chest squeezed at the sight. “Well… Maybe you should thank her.” A slip of paper was set in front of his plate as you reached over.
“I should probably get back to work now.” You stood back up with a sheepish smile, and he could only nod dumbly— eyes flickering from you to the note until you slipped back to the kitchen to resume your job. A hand with a familiar nail polish ruffled his hair, to which he quickly smacked away.
“See brat? It worked out.”
“I can’t fucking believe you.”
“Finally, you’re someone else’s problem. I’m telling you Katsuki, a mother knows best.” 
Her cackling didn’t bother him all too much as he typed the number into his phone, saving your contact before sending a quick text with his name. “Just shut the hell up.” He snapped, his phone buzzing from its place on the table.
~ Y/n: kinda weird that ur mom is ur wingman but ive had worse ways of being asked out
Y/n: tell her thanks for me ~
Oh he’d rather die than do that, but maybe further down the road you’d be able to thank her for her meddling yourself.
Masterlist
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adorethedistance · 4 years
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I Do, Do You? - JJ Maybank x Reader Imagine
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(I don’t own this image, if it’s yours and you don’t want me to use it, message me and I’ll take it down.)
Request: by anon: It’d be really cool if you could write something about the trend where you kiss your best friend with jj, where the reader does it and jj gets really excited about it
Warnings: This is super fluffy but I can’t really think of any potential triggers. If you find some PLEASE point them out to me!
Words: 993 
Anxious butterflies have settled in my stomach since early this morning when I scrolled through the entire trend of ‘kissing my best friend’ videos. I decided this was it. If I was ever going to try and be more than a friend to JJ, this was my chance.
As I sit next to him on the couch, my heart is flying 1000 mph. I don’t know if JJ can sense I’m acting differently but I hope he can’t. We’ve been lounging around, watching movies all day, surely he won’t think anything of it if I ask-
“Do you want to make a Tik Tok?” He looks at me without picking his head up off the back of the couch. He’s totally on to me and he’s totally going to say no.
“Sure.” Oh.
Standing from my spot on the couch, I extend a paw to pull JJ’s lazy ass off of the couch but instead of counteracting my body weight to pick himself up, he pulls me down on top of him first.
“What are you doing?” I half-squeal, half-laugh. JJ then rolls us both over so that his body weight is practically crushing me, and he slips my phone out of my hand.
“Are we dancing to Doja Cat? What’s the game plan?”
“I already have a sound picked out! Get off me.” He laughs and then blindly tosses my phone at me.
“Ow, my boob. You nailed me right in the titty, JJ!” I wail dramatically as he laughs even harder. Rolling over to get to a seated position, I pull up the audio from the videos I’ve been watching all morning and my hands begin to shake. I prop my phone up on the open box of Cheez-Its we’ve been snacking out of and the countdown to the music seals my fate. As the video is already recording, JJ looks at me confused.
“What are we supposed to do for this sound?”
“It’s about us being best friends so just pretend to like me for a minute.” I forgot JJ’s service payment was late and he’s been out of signal for a couple weeks so he has no idea what this trend is. That should be a relief but my anxiety convinces me that that’s somehow worse.
The beat is about to drop.
“I’ll try but I can’t promise I’ll be that good of an act-” before JJ can finish his sentence, I gently gripped his jaw and very lightly pressed my lips to his. He doesn’t kiss back immediately, probably due to shock. All of a sudden, my nerves get the better of me and I pull away before he can register what’s happening.
When I open my eyes, JJ is already looking at me in surprise. His eyes are wide and his jaw is dropped but I can tell he’s biting back a smile. He then turns to the camera and bellows a loud,
“YEEESSS!” Before standing up and flexing like Shia LaBeouf in the ‘just do it’ meme. He looks back at me and screams again, which makes me laugh even harder. The exhilaration hasn’t worn off in the slightest and JJ squishes my cheeks together in both of his hands, before pressing his lips to mine once more. The kiss deepens and is filled with ten times the passion of before, and then he pulls away grinning bigger than I’ve ever seen in my life.
The memory is one I’ll treasure forever because that day was the start of the rest of our lives. Slipping my right foot into my white shoe, I stand up to look into the vanity mirror in front of me. My hair is styled to perfection, my makeup is exactly the way I like it, and my dress compliments my figure in all the right places. I look so beautiful I almost don’t recognize myself.
Then, a knock at the door pulls me from my self-induced stupor.
“Come in,” I call as I see Sarah and Wheezie have already entered without waiting for a response.
“Oh my gosh you look gorgeous, Y/n,” Sarah sighs and I can see tears welling up in her eyes.
“No, don’t cry yet. The ceremony hasn’t started and you’re gonna make me cry!” I say which makes the three of us laugh. After a brief moment of adoring silence, I take each of their hands and we stand in a huddle, just us three girls, for what’ll be the last time as bachelorette-sisters.
“You don’t wanna be late for your special day, so we need to go,” Wheezie ushers us out the door and into the common area of the townhouse used for Midsummers. Outside on the lawn I see what feels like the entirety of the outer banks, all seated in identical white chairs, facing the water where an arch decorated with white tulle flutters in the wind. Underneath it, I see JJ in a suit that, without a doubt, doesn’t belong to him. He looks so handsome in black. A red rose is pinned to his jacket to match the bouquet in my shaking hands. I feel as nervous as the day we first kissed.
With Sarah on my left arm, Wheezie on my right, and Fallin’ All in You by Shawn Mendes playing softly throughout the courtyard, everything feels perfect. I have my twin and my baby sister ready to give me away to marriage. How could anyone ask for more?
The adoring eyes of family members and friends alike, lift me to cloud nine and I feel as if I’m floating down the aisle. Once I reach JJ, my sisters step to my left side, and JJ and I turn to face our officiant. He begins officiating our marriage, but JJ and I talk under him anyway.
“You’re lookin’ hot in that dress, babe.”
“Four hours. That’s all you get.”
“That’s fine. I prefer you in sweats and my shirts anyway.”
***
A/N: I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. College apps snuck up on me and made writing not fun for a bit but I think I'm back? Anywho, THIS TOOK A TURN. Lmao I was like haha tek tauk chAllleimge and suddenly ur at the altar. Crazy how life works huh?
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14 (bodyguard AU) and 46 (blind date) sounds fun,,, your choice of ship ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥
14. Bodyguard AU || 46. Blind date
Random choice generator got me creativisleep!
~
roman's a semi-popular actor- he's never really been to an awards show, and he's not been in That much, but he had a small but strong role in a real popular film and plenty of leading ones in lesser known movies. he's got enough of a following to be satisfied with himself, even if it isn't That huge of one
because of this, roman didn't take the possible dangers of his fame seriously... until he got jumped by one fan at a play in his hometown. he came out fine (he's always fine ;p) but it made him reconsider his choice to not have some sort of protection
he ends up hiring remy to be his bodyguard, a choice he Slightly starts regretting when he realizes remy, despite having excellent marks out of bodyguard school, is about as professional as a golden retriever
they take roman's food out of his fridge Whenever, borrow Way too many of his shirts (and roman hasn't seen his BMC 'boyf riends' hoodie since they got their hands on it), and is never in typical bodyguard wear (they wore a suit for the interview and never again)
but they also bring roman coffee (when did they get his regular figured out...?), talk to him like he's just a Person and not a celeb, and have yet to try and kill him themself so. roman's alright with them staying
(plus, is it so wrong if roman enjoys how they look? he deserves for a bit of an eye-candy sorta bodyguard, damnit, they're with him all the time after all)
remy's been with roman as his bodyguard for a few months when roman decides he cant just keep Lookin at a pretty person, he deserves to have a pretty person to kiss and cuddle with too!! so he pokes around for a bit, finds a non-homophobic service (he's pan, so he could Technically use a plain ol' straight service, but he refuses on gay principle), and uses it
idk how datin apps work but this one that im makin up is a blind match up app, which takes ur information and uses it to randomly pair u up with random accounts. the app keeps account info privated until After the first date has been gone on, to really maintain the 'blind match' aspect. the matched up people play a mini guessing game through the app about places they can go for a date until location and time is determined
roman likes the idea of the app mostly to keep his own identity secret as long as possible- he doesnt want people pickin his account Just bc he's a celeb, y'know?
the first couple of blind dates dont go well tho... most are nice people who roman just isn't compatible with, one was a straight woman who spent the entire date being Very homophobic despite roman's rainbow heart + pan flag pins, and someone who was clearly Too Much Of A Fan (remy had to physically pull them off of roman and help him escape the park before they could latch back on)
oh, did roman not mention? remy's been coming on all his dates with him
because of course they are! they need to protect roman! whether that's by eating dinner in the booth over or sitting two rows back at the cinema or awkwardly half-stalkin roman and his date while they walk about
so they're always there, to bring roman there and take him home, and listen when he complains about the bad matches and lament the almost-winners, and convince him he is a catch that needs to try again because eventually Someone will realize he really is too good to pass up
(remy always says that line in a weird way)
so he keeps trying... until roman has possibly the worst date ever
because he gets stood up. it's fifteen minutes past the scheduled date time, he's gotten no text explainin where they are, but he's sittin at the restaurant alone and starting to become rather upset by the pitying look the server gives him when he says he's still waitin on someone else before he orders
remy slides into the seat across from him at the 20 minute mark. shoots roman an apologetic smile that an outsider would mistake as a 'sorry im late' one when roman knows it's a 'sorry they didnt show' one
roman appreciates the gesture to save him, but he almost just wants to go home at this point. he's tired and bein stood up feels like Shit, actually, and he's about ready to call off the whole dating thing really, dramatic as that may be (like it's not his middle name)
but remy says smth about this place having really good sandwiches, and it's clear they're tryin so hard to help roman out here, even a little, and roman can't just dismiss that effort, so he picks up his menu again and orders smth and tries to ignore the way his face heats up just the slightest at the relieved smile remy flashes next
lunch with remy is great, actually, better than it would've been with whoever couldnt be bothered to show or apologize or Anything. remy even knows the way to an ice cream shop on the way home, sayin it's for roman's 'broken heart' as they pay for it
except, well... roman's heart isn't feelin so broken anymore
it's actually feeling pretty put together. really functional. functioning really fast. especially when roman's looking at remy. or when remy's lookin at roman. or when they smile. or when they laugh. or when they speak. or when they-
roman doesn't fall asleep until 2am that night, heart still racing a bit, screaming into his pillow a bit as he acknowledges he is wholly and totally head-over-heels for his bodyguard
he tells remy the next day he's done with dating for a bit, saying he's still upset over being stood up. he doesn't mention that it's also bc remy's ruined all other people for him
things try to fall back in routine from there, but it's a bit harder when roman's trying to not be so in love with someone who just works for him. and remy's definitely started pickin up on it too- they had asked him just last if he was okay, that he didn't seem as upset by remy takin his clothes anymore, and that didn't seem like him, was he getting sick?
the opposite, actually, absolutely nothing makes me feel better then seeing you walk around in my shirt or jacket or whatever else, please never stop and also kiss me?
roman just said he was tired
eventually... roman decides this can't keep going on. remy's giving him more weird looks these days, and roman is pretty sure being around remy so much without Any kisses is starting to cause brain decay (it's not, it's really not, remy always bein on his mind is just a side effect of.... pretti........). so, he takes matters into his own hands
admittedly, maybe firing remy wasn't the best way to go, given remy immediately demands to know why, what they did wrong, even asking if roman's being blackmailed into this
"blink once for yes, twice for no" remy asks, lowering the sunglasses they always have on to look directly at roman's eyes
roman doesn't blink for a full minute. he might not be breathing for that minute either. has he ever seen remy's eyes this close? has he ever seen them at all? they're such a brilliant shade of brown. roman could drown in them. he might be already
roman's pretty sure he started this conversation standing up, but maybe not, because when he finally blinks and remembers things outside of remy's eyes exist he's sitting down and remy looks extremely concerned
"okay... what's wrong, hun?" they ask, and oh no, they look so sad, and worried, and that's not good, roman should fix that right now, regardless of whatever he was doing before (he's forgotten)
"im gay" he responds intelligently. this will fix everything
remy, however, just looks confused. "yes?"
"for you" roman adds, helpfully, sure that Now remy will understand they're just really very pretty and nothing's wrong and if they feel bad still they should look in a mirror because then they'll be good again
now it's remy's turn to sit in silence, expression frozen in one of shock. they still havent put their sunglasses back on, so roman doesnt mind, bc this gives him more time to stare at remy's eyes
"you're having a breakdown because you're gay for me???" remy finally asks, expression unfreezing to look incredulous and a little hurt
roman returns a similar look. "im not having a breakdown!"
remy scoffs. "yeah, sure, right, that's why you suddenly froze and completely stopped breathing and minorly collapsed after i... look off my shades to look at you..." they suddenly break out in a smirk. "oh my gods, you're a gay disaster"
roman doesn't try to deny it, especially with the knowledge he apparently did stop breathing to admire remy's eyes. they have a point
"how long?"
"since that date you hijacked after i got stood up" roman admits. he finds it extraordinarily rude when remy starts laughing
...until they're pulling out their phone, hurriedly opening up the exact same dating app roman had been using, showing a log of all the dates they had planned- there's only one marked as having actually been attended
same date time and place of the one where roman had assumed he had been stood up
"you broke my heart!" roman says as remy puts away their phone, over-dramatically, not actually giving a damn, just feeling gay and a bit giddy at the thought remy hadnt gone to any of the other dates, just theirs
no longer worried quite as much about roman for the moment, remy's smirk just grows, smoothly moving from being crouched in front of roman to being set firmly in his lap, lazily brushing hair out of his eyes and wow was remy always this warm? and stunning? and perfect?
"i dunno babe... sounds more like i stole it" remy teases, movin from playing with roman's hair to cuppin his cheek, leaning in close and not even bothering to pretend to be looking at anything other than roman's lips. "which, yeah, bad bodyguard etiquette... i hope you can forgive me..."
roman doesn't need his words to answer that tease
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badsext · 4 years
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🍭🌶 Could I request something sweet and spicy where Robert Sheehan tries to boost a shy, soft reader's (f) self-confidence? Thanks!
Masked Hearts: Robert Sheehan x Reader (fem)
Author’s note: Thank you for the request! I decided to to experiment with acknowledging the pandemic in this fic. Because the reader is shy, I thought it would be interesting to incorporate masks and social distancing. Not trying to be flippant about masks and social distancing (which is really important). It’s just fantasy. I hope you like it.
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The fridge is empty except for a few condiments. Of course, you already know this, but you are so hungry, you go through the motions anyway. Then you reach for the crackers in the pantry and shove one into your mouth. It’s stale, but you choke it down as punishment for running out of groceries during a pandemic.
You start weighing your options. A grocery run would require you to buy the food, bring it home, and cook it. By then your empty stomach would never forgive you. Delivery would also take too long. No, you needed to eat immediately...or as close to it as possible with minimal social interaction.
You take a quick shower, brush your teeth and throw on some of your more decent casual clothes: a plain black tee shirt and the only pair of jeans you don’t hate. Your reflection in the mirror looks tired and stressed. ‘Why do I even try?,’ you mutter to yourself as you rearrange your hair. ‘Well, here we go,’ you sigh, stretching the blue medical mask across your face. You can hide so much behind a mask, for someone as shy as you it is a blessing in disguise.
The restaurant is eerily quiet. With the restrictions eased, every other table is blocked off with an ‘x’ made of yellow tape and the same yellow tape has portioned off the floor every six feet. There is nobody in line so you step up to the tape closest to the cashier. You order the usual through the plexiglass in a voice you’d consider loud to compensate for the layers of materials between your mouth and her ear. “I’m sorry, can I have that again?” You raise your voice, but she still can’t hear you. The third time you are literally shouting and it is so painfully awkward you could die. ‘This place needs a fucking ordering ap!’ You scream inside your brain. She punches in some buttons and finally hands you an empty cup signaling the end of your torment.
You fill the cup with soda and sit down. There is a maskless man eating at a table directly across from you. He notices you and looks up from his food. You panic. ‘What is he looking at?’ Then in an instant you recognize him. ‘What the fuck is Robert Sheehan doing at this shitty restaurant right now?’ You try to calm yourself, avert your eyes. ‘He’s just a person,’ you reason. ‘He needs to eat too.’ You open a takeout menu and hold it up to hide your face in spite of the mask you are already wearing. Your eyes peer stealthily over the top. ‘He’s still looking at me. Why is he still looking at me?’ That’s when you realize that you are literally the only two customers in the restaurant.
He smiles. His green eyes sparkle like precious gems and the sunlight bounces off his messy bun of shiny brunette curls like gold. ‘Wow, okay he is even better looking in person.’ You hear a number being called and realize that it matches the one on your receipt. You suddenly recall where you are and the reason you are here. Still, you hesitate to get up and retrieve your order. If you stand up and walk up to the counter he will get a get a full view of your body, the cursed sack of meat that you are so helplessly trapped inside.
“Miss, your food is ready.”
‘Shit!’ Now you have to get the food or he’ll think something is wrong with you!
You walk up as inconspicuously as possible, like a vapor on a crest of wind. ‘Goddamnit, why didn’t I order this to go?!’ You curse your lack of foresight, grab the tray and return to the same seat across from Robert Sheehan, deciding it is less awkward than changing seats to avoid him. The savory sent of grilled chicken sandwich and seasoned fries permeate your mask to make your mouth water. But you can’t just chow down like an animal, Robert Sheehan is watching. You check again and it seems he has moved on, scrolling his phone instead.
You sneak a fry under your mask and hear the sound of muffled laughter. Mortified, your tear ducts start to sting. Robert’s smile drops as he sees the effect he has had on you. His eyebrows scrunch together in regret and his hands wave frantically as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to laugh, I just thought that was cute,” he explains, with his hand to his chest.
‘Cute?’ Your mind starts spinning. Still low on blood sugar, you instinctively reach for your drink, poking the straw under the mask to have a sip. Rob stifles another laugh and again shows his remorse. Then you watch as he appears to have a few stern words with himself.
“It’s okay,” you manage to eek out. Rob looks relieved. A smile forms under your mask and an idea pops into your head. You unwrap the plastic knife and fork on your tray and begin slicing your sandwich into bite sized pieces. You stab one, twirl it around on your fork and pop it under the mask. Rob giggles, flashing his teeth. Encouraged, you lean back in your chair and rub your tummy like Winnie the Pooh.
He picks up his sandwich and makes it “laugh” by flapping the bun up and down.
You cary on this way, eating and joking around at a distance until your plates are empty. This is definitely not like you, getting silly with a virtual stranger. It usually takes months before people get to see this side of you, but after breaking the ice, Rob’s attention feels good.
He puts his mask on and comes up to your table.
“Thanks for having lunch with me.” He says, pulling a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of the pocket of his low waisted pants. “Want some?”
“Yeah, thanks.” You say holding out your hands. He squirts some of the clear liquid into your hands, then into his own before putting it away. You have several bottles of this stuff in your purse, but none that have been warmed against the thigh of a bonafide celebrity.
“I’m Rob.”
You introduce yourself. You think of mentioning Misfits or Umbrella Academy, but you worry it might wreck the mood.
“You’ve got something on your...” He points to your mask.
“Oh, haha.” You laugh nervously, turning away to dig though your bag, pop a mint, then turn around wearing a clean identical mask.
“Brilliant quick change. I didn’t see a thing.” You offer him a mint. He takes it and slips it under his mask with a wink. “You want to get out of here?”
Your body tingles at the prospect. You nod, trying to conceal your dizzying flood of emotions. “Where should we go then?”
“Well, there’s really not much open. I was planning on heading back to my apartment.” You explain, trying not to sound too obvious while simultaneously hoping he takes the bait. All of this is, of course, way out of your comfort zone and there is a part of you cringing into oblivion.
“Well, it’s a nice day, why don’t I walk you home.” He souds persuasive, not insistent; optimistic, not cocky.
“That sounds nice.”
He holds out his sanitized hand and you take it. The contact of your skin against his activates a primal desire within. You take to the street, the warm California breeze gently follows. Your steps start to quicken as you approach the front door. You reach into your bag to find your keys. Rob’s arms encircle your waist from behind. You turn to him, holding your keys in one hand and sliding the other down the length of his body from his chest to the growing bulge in his pants. He inhales sharply. You turn back around to unlock the door. He grabs your ass with both hands.
Inside the apartment Rob rips off his mask then reaches out for yours. “Ah ah ah,” you scold, instinctually dodging out of the way. “We mustn’t violate CDC protocol.”
Rob begs. “Oh come on, just a peek?” You remove the mask, revealing a shy little smile. Rob comes near, brushing your hair away from your face and pressing his lips to yours so soft and deliberate.
Update: Smut filled 🌶 Part 2
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