#but I know enough to know that there’s something wrong with me.
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fict1onallyobsessed · 2 days ago
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OKAY OKAY COULD YOU PLEASE WRITE SMTH ABOUT SEVIKA PROTECING READER BECAUSE OF SOMETHING LIKE HERE ON THIS PIC SHE PROTECTS JINX AND ISHA??
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im sorry if i wrote something wrong but english is not my first language😭🙏
OF COURSE !!!!!!! I have an idea for this...
I got a little carried away and gave you more LOL sorry
Sevika x Fem!Reader
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She grabbed you before you could process the fan being turned on. Thankfully, you weren't too far from the table that protected you both, otherwise you would have been swept with the air flow violently.
Your side hurt. The shot Caitlyn took must have not only pierced your skin but the force broke your rib too. Whatever the gun was made of was strong enough to go through the stone pillar behind you partially as well.
Safe to say it hurt as fuck.
You clutched your side and winced as Sevika crouched with you in front of her, the stone table keeping you sat up, but barely. Sevika's new metal arm grabbed onto the table and kept her put, the other going to hold your side with you.
You weren't sure whether your adrenaline was keeping you lucid or if the shot wasn't truly that bad. Regardless, you didn't want to hang around much longer.
You looked up at your girlfriend, head slightly bouncing off the stone behind you as you rested it. She looked worried, and although nothing but pain was filling your sense, you found the energy to sigh and show her a small smile.
Her hair was flying around with the wind, her face showing slight worry and mostly focus as she tried to keep you both behind the table.
"You'll be fine." She mouthed, and you couldn't do much more but nod. You trusted her. You believed her...but the blood slowly seeping through the cracks of your fingers, and onto her hand covering yours, it was looking more like you were not going to be fine.
The wind seemed everlasting and the longer you sat there, waiting for it to stop, the dizzier you became.
You wanted to see Sevika's face for as long as you could. Taking in her scowl of concentration, the barely noticeable glint of nervousness in her eye when she met yours, the shiny scar across her cheek.
You thought she was leaning down to get out of the wind more, but instead she leaned down to your ear and spoke through the loud fan.
"Don't look at me like that." She spoke it as a command as her hand squeezed your bleeding side.
"Like what?" You scoffed quietly, immediately feeling the burn in your rib.
"Like you're about to say goodbye. You're fine."
You hummed and looked back up at her when she pulled away, leaving no room for discussion.
She was so gorgeous, holding you, protecting you, as if you were about to disappear any minute.
Your head spun so much you didn't even notice the fan turn off. Sevika lifted you off the ground and instructed Jinx, who was also carrying a girl, where to go. It all came out as muffled to you though, as the blood loss slowly stared winning, and you passed out.
When you woke up, the first thing you saw was two heads looking down at you. Jinx's braids tickled your nose, while the other girls hair wasn't even long enough to reach her eyebrows. You groaned, immediately going in to hold your side as a reflex to find it bandaged.
"I told you to let her rest." Sevika's voice rung out in a disappointed tone as she walked in with a bunch of fresh bandages in her hand. Presumably for you.
You were in Silco's office, laid down on his sofa. The table was covered with medical supplies, alcohol bottles and jinx's crafts, but your eyes ended up laying upon Sevika. Her worried expression had you worried.
"How are you feeling?" Sevika asked, looking down at you as she put the obnoxious amount of wraps on the table.
"Trust you to get shot." Jinx scoffed playfully as she stared down at you, knowing damn well that bullet was meant for her. "Took it like a champ though!"
You chuckled back and attempted to sit up, but Sevika was faster and pushed you back down, shaking her head.
"I'm fine." You spoke, but Sevika wouldn't relent. She kept you laying down as she changed your bandages carefully. Your eyes fell from Sevika onto the little girl who was still staring down at you. "Who would have thought Jinx took in a stray. What's your name?"
"Her name is Isha. She's sticking around." Jinx replied matter-of-factly, a small smirk on her face as she said it. It made you giggle a bit.
"Alright, out." Sevika stood up from crouching beside you as she finished your bandages. Jinx took Isha and left, excited to show her some of her trinkets to get her mind off of...recent events. "She needs to rest."
"I'm alright." You spoke, reaching out for Sevika's hand to help you up. "How bad was it?"
"Bad enough to have me worried." She sighed, sitting beside you and letting you lean on her.
"Sorry." You sighed back, almost identically. "And you know, thank you."
She wrapped her hand around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.
"Anytime."
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johanna-swann · 2 days ago
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I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.
Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.
Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.
Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.
Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.
Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.
Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]
And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.
Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.
And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)
Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.
But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.
They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.
Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.
And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.
What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.
But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.
Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.
[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]
I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.
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tojicide · 3 days ago
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SNIPER, SNIPER! ☆ LEON KENNEDY
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summary. in leon’s line of work as a contract killer, weaknesses weren’t an option. luckily, he’d eliminated his… all except for one.
warnings. fem!reader. au. nsfw, smut, fluff. hitman!leon, ex!leon, jealous!leon, re4!leon intended. discussion of murder, guns, bullets, etc. a loooot of blissful ignorance. porn with some plot. pet names. argument. oral sex (f!receiving), face sitting, missionary, unprotected p in v, creampie. wc. 5.3k
note. i tend to fuck up a nice “ex who is a raging munch” fic or two saurrrr this is basically my staple now :3
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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Leon isn’t sure why he’s here.
He hasn’t ever bid on a target as sought after as the one that he has now acquired. The target was only described as someone who simply ‘knows too much’ about something they shouldn’t. Vague, he thinks, especially because they remained nameless, genderless, and description-less otherwise. It was odd, for sure, but it was the highest contract that he had ever come by.
As a matter of fact, he’s positive that it’s the highest contract that anyone in his position has ever seen, let alone signed. He’s sure that he’s ruffled a bit of feathers by taking on the job, especially considering that he was still considered fresh meat among the other hitmen that he was distantly familiar with.
Leon preferred to stay out of the unusual politics that came with the underground world, and that meant taking on the jobs that no one deemed urgent enough to complete.
(Plenty of drug dealers, a few sketchy nightclub owners, and an awful bunch of politicians who he is 99% sure put the bounty on their own heads to avoid the scandal that was unearthed about each of them no less than two weeks after they were found with bullets in their heads. He preferred those hits. All men, all guilty of something.)
Nevertheless, he finds himself here, perched on the rooftop of an upscale bar with his sniper rifle angled over the ledge. His scope was perfectly aligned with the entrance of the night club across the street, his right eye narrowed while the other was completely shut.
He sighs, tapping onto his earpiece to communicate with his teammate that was a few buildings over. Alexander.
(Alexander was a tech-nut. He was responsible for ensuring that the coast was clear, that there weren’t an abundance of cops in the area, and that security cameras of the establishment were looped continually in order to ensure that no one could suspect anything more than someone being at the wrong place at the wrong time.)
“Reread the target description that was left for me,” Leon quietly commands.
“Aaand what’s the magic word?”
He heavily sighs. For a job like this, he figured that working alone would be the best option, but with the more he learned, the more experience he gained, the people he met—he was proven wrong. A team works more efficiently than a single person, even if the other half of his current team was a bit… annoying.
“Don’t piss me off,” he huffs, shaking his head as he closes one eye to look through the scope again.
Leon can practically hear Alexander’s grin on the other end of the line as he speaks. “Alright, man, jeez. Your g-string must be a bit too tight tonight, but that’s alright, I’m in no place to judge you.”
Before the blonde can even react to that unsettling quip, Alexander continues speaking, only this time, he does what Leon asks of him. “Bounty, bounty, bounty… where is the darn thing? Oh yes, here it is. Okay, it says that the target will be wearing a blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks tonight…. and that’s it.”
Leon hums, mulling over the very few words that were left for him by the person who had posted the contract in the first place. He’d never killed someone based on the description of an outfit alone,  but then again, he’s never gotten paid this much for sending a bullet through a random guy’s brain. He’ll take it.
“Thanks,” he mutters, turning off his ear piece to drown out the voice of the male on the other end.
It feels like hours pass by in which all he does is stare at the entrance, watching as each attendee leaves the establishment periodically. Each time he saw the color red, he’d perk up, only to find that they were wearing jeans, or they were wearing a white blazer, which only left him feeling more annoyed as time went on.
And then, the door opens. He can practically feel the air flee his lungs as he taps onto his earpiece out of instinct. A blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks.
“Ooh. Pretty. We guessed wrong, didn’t we?” Alexander speaks through the earpiece, which causes Leon to raise a brow.
“What’re you…” his voice trails. His blood runs cold, his palms begin to sweat, and his eyes blow wide. “Holy… fuck.”
“I know right? Not only is she a woman, but she’s miiiighty fine,” his teammate speaks, his voice oddly humorous for the given situation. A moment of silence passes, and Alexander continues to talk, but he can’t hear a damn word.
Leon freezes like a deer in headlights as he watches you emerge from the dim nightclub with a man’s arm slung around your shoulder, though that hardly taints how angelic you look tonight.
Your hair frames your face so beautifully, so soft and feminine. The tip of your nose was flushed given the crisp night air that you’ve just stepped into, your smile was side and toothy as you walked beside a man that he didn’t recognize.
You’re gorgeous, is all he can think right now. It’s the first time he’s seen you since the moment the two of you broke up six months ago, and you look even prettier than when he pictured you each night to fall asleep. He dreamt of you often, but his lovesick mind was no match for imagining the beauty that you possess.
Suddenly, Alexander’s voice pierced through his haze, bringing him back to the current scene. “Earth to Leon? I get it man, she’s pretty, very much so. I’d hit that too if she wasn’t gonna die in like… two secs.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he hisses, his voice sounding just as venomous as he’d intended it to. “You aren’t going to lay a damn finger on her.”
“Woah, buddy. Big talk from the guy with a sniper aimed at her head.”
That is the moment in which everything clicks in the worst way imaginable.
It’s you. His target, the person who knows too much, the one who is supposed to die tonight—it’s you.
And then, he becomes acutely aware of the lines that are obstructing his view of you. His scope. The red dot in the center placed strategically on your temple, the bullet meant just for you waiting for a simple pull of a trigger.
Leon shudders, picking his head up. No. Absolutely not. Completing his task was not even a thought in his mind anymore, not if the target was you. His beautiful, sweet girl.
But he couldn’t leave the scene unscathed. It would raise suspicion, possibly even tie him to you in a way that you didn’t need. If he didn’t fulfill the obligation in some way, someone else would. He’d broken up with you to save you from all of this, and now, he’d unknowingly come here to make you familiar with his lifestyle in the worst way possible.
You were walking away, and it’s then that his trained eyes fall onto the man who has his arm draped over your shoulder in the way he used to all those months ago. His heart aches at the mere sight of you looking so happy in the company of another, but it gives him an idea.
Leon looks through the scope again, and within seconds, a loud gunshot rings through the air in the form of a thundering pop.
His jaw tenses as he hears screaming. They aren’t your screams though, because you’re not hit. They’re coming from the man you were with, because Leon has just lightly grazed his arm with a bullet.
He wasn’t insane. He wasn’t going to be killing anyone tonight, even if he desperately wanted to kick the living shit out of the man who is so close to you.
Well… was close to you. He isn’t anymore. Your date is writing on the ground all because of a flesh wound, and you’re standing above him with the most confused and concerned look on your face.
Leon can’t help but think that the man has no regard for you and your safety. For all this mystery man knows, more shots could be coming, and instead of trying to protect you, he’s rolling around on the concrete like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Such a man baby.
“What’re you waiting for? Holy fuck, uh… you still have the shot. Take the shot—”
Leon pulls the earpiece away, turning it off before she shoves it into his back pocket. He didn’t need to be scolded by anyone, let alone someone as useless as his teammate. He’d beat him bloody for how he had spoken about you if he weren’t already packing up his equipment to head over to your place.
He needs to check on you, first and foremost. He also needs to explain himself which was… going to be no easy feat, he supposes.
You don’t find your way home until about an hour later, keys jumbling about as you push it into the slot, twisting it with a tired hand.
To be shot at was not on your agenda for tonight, but being berated by your date for not reacting quick enough to help him evade a bullet you had no knowledge of was certainly not how you wanted to end your night either.
Annoyed, exhausted, and frustrated, you step into your apartment. When you begin to shrug off your coat, your body tenses. No. Fucking. Way.
“What the fuck?” you hiss, your voice rising in octave.
Leon stands from your couch, approaching you with his hands in the air, attempting to show you that he hadn’t come with malice. You knew he hadn't, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him.
“Baby, it’s just me,” he says without thinking, the pet name slipping out before he could have a say in the matter.
“Yeah, I know it’s just you, that’s the problem!” you continue, hanging your coat up on the rack along with your purse. “Are you out of your damn mind? I—”
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “I am out of my mind, and you must be out of yours for still keeping your spare key under your doormat. I told you to move it years ago.”
Your brows knit together. “You little— you know what? I’m not even going to entertain that. How about this? You leave, and we forget this happened, yeah?”
“Can’t do that,” he tells you with a shrug, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I need to talk to you.”
“Don’t do this, Leon, not tonight,” you huff, pinching your nose bridge. “I’m not in the mood, alright? I was—”
“Shot at?” he finishes your sentence. He immediately regrets it, pressing his lips into a line to keep himself from saying anything else.
Your demeanor falters at that. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes narrowing as you look at him from where he stands across the room. “How do you know that?”
He takes a moment to answer, his mouth opening without any words coming out. It spikes your frustration, so you speak again. “Damn it, Leon, how do you know that?”
Leon holds his hands up again, pleading his defense before he criminalizes himself entirely. “I was the one behind the gun, but it’s not what you think—”
Your jaw drops. “Not what I think? Not what I think? You tried to kill me!”
He shakes his head, his expression falling. “I didn’t, baby. I swear. Just let me explain, and—”
“You tried to shoot me in the damn neck!” you continue, your hand dramatically clasping into the side of your throat.
Leon closes his eyes for a moment, internally bracing himself for your outburst that he absolutely deserves. He opens them again, simply watching as you spew insults his way. He takes them without any hint of irritation.
“What the hell, Leon? Is that what you do now? You stalk your ex-girlfriend and try to kill her? Not only that, you missed. You missed! That’s almost fucking humorous, because how can you try to do something like that and then miss!”
Leon sighs, waiting for a moment to see if you try to continue, and when you don’t, he speaks instead. “I aimed for his arm, not your neck, or anywhere else that would endanger you—”
“Yeah, and you almost blew his arm off!” You’re more than aware that the statement was dramatic, but you don’t need to have any sense right now.
“It was a flesh wound, he’ll be just fine,” he tells you before he continues with what he was saying before. “And I wasn’t stalking you. Not knowingly, anyway. I would never hurt you. Not ever. Your date was just… collateral. I had no choice.”
He hopes that you don’t ask any more questions about that, because he won’t have any answers for you. It was for the better. All you knew was that his job wasn’t legal. It couldn’t have been, not with the copious amounts of money that rolled in while he hardly worked for half of the month.
The less you knew about what his line of work entailed, the safer you were. The further away you were from him, the safer you were. However, those last words now ring hollow.
“Look…” he whispers, taking a step towards you despite his brain screaming at him to leave. He couldn’t. Not when he was the only one who knew of your compromised position. “I know that much has changed between us. It’s my fault, I know it, but I can’t tell you anything more about my job, I just need you to—”
You need answers that you won’t be getting, and that sentiment alone makes you furious. When he gets too close, your hand moves to the leather harness that he has strapped around his broad chest, pulling a sharp-bladed knife from its sleeve. His eyes widen as you hold the blade up to him, his hands shooting up into the air yet again.
“You remember where I put my spare key, I remember where you keep your spare knife,” you taunt, the two of you standing so close now that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his face. “Guess we haven’t changed as much as you think.”
He huffs as the cool blade grazes his clothed chest, the metal so close that it nearly pierces his skin. Even then, you ensure that it doesn’t. It’s almost touching how you press such a sharp object to his heart of all places, he thinks.
Your situation is far more complicated than the both of you can handle right now. You have unresolved issues with each other, and that alone must be addressed before you can even begin to scratch the surface of the threats that now face the two of you.
“I still think you’re sexy when you’re mean to me,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side. “That hasn’t changed either.”
Was it the time for his flirtatious performance? Certainly not, but you were putting on a little performance of your own just the same.
You scoff, narrowing your eyes. “You’re disgusting.”
Leon shakes his head, his eyes narrowing just as yours did. “Disgusting? Oh, don’t romance me.”
“I’m not romancing you,” you huff with an eye roll. Your grip on the knife only tightens, but you have no real intention of using it. “I’m threatening you.”
He hardly finds you to be threatening. He’d liken you to an angry cat, but he wouldn’t dare voice that out loud. He’s letting you have your moment, truth be told. “Mm, even better.”
His calloused hand moves to shadow yours, slowly lowering the knife that begged to pierce his pale skin. You let him, which only gives him more incentive to pull it away from your grasp entirely.
He tucks the knife back into his sheath, moving to unbuckle the harness entirely. “Now. Tell me, who was that guy?”
A random guy you met on Tinder. “My future husband.”
You’re just trying to get under his skin now, and judging by the look on his face, it’s working. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, taking note of that smug grin that stretches over your lips.
He really just wants to fuck it right off you, but he doesn’t make that known. Not yet, anyway.
“Yeah?” he asks, tilting his head. “You gonna let him put a ring on that pretty finger of yours?”
No, you absolutely were not, but you’re enjoying this game. It’s what he deserves after scaring the shit out of you tonight. “Yeah, I am. Thinking about some baby names too, just for safekeeping.”
Leon doesn’t like the thought that you’ve just put in his head, not one bit. His hand finds your left one, bringing it up to his lips as he presses a kiss on your ring finger. “Huh. That’s what you want?”
You tilt your head, noticing how his lips linger on your hand for a moment too long. “You know what I don’t want? To be shot at.”
He hums, giving you a mocking frown. Of course he feels bad about that, but… you both know he hadn’t truly shot at you. Around you, yes, but not at you. His large hands find your waist, his fingers grasping onto the fabric of your shirt and slowly but surely, you find yourself being backed towards your couch.
“Answer my question,” he whispers, his voice now possessing a rasp that it didn’t have before.
You huff, willingly sitting on your couch, even though you’re doing your best to front as though you’re totally disinterested. “Why should I?”
He shrugs, his lips tugging down as he tilts his head. You watch with blown eyes as he kneels in front of you, his palms gliding over your thighs.
“‘Cause if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.”
You tilt your head, eyeing him quite intently as his fingers move to the button of your slacks. You shouldn’t be turned on, but you absolutely are, and the damp fabric of your panties that he’s about to see conveys that pretty well.
“Give me what?” you ask, grinning slightly.
“A ring, a baby… both, neither,” he replies, his fingers hooking beneath your waistband. “Lift your hips for me.”
When you do just that, his eyes raise to find yours. He has a crazed look in his eye, one that you’re all too familiar with. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give it to you,” he whispers, leaning in until his soft lips just barely brush against yours.
Your eyes close, and you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you. But he doesn’t. When you open your eyes, you find him grinning. The same shit-eating grin that you love and hate to no avail.
“You just have to say the words,” he whispers against your lips.
You roll your eyes, your hand reaching out to rest on the back of his neck. He was already impossibly close, so all you truly did was hold him there. “I want to kiss you.”
Leon smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “Mm, like I said. Whatever my lady wants, she gets.”
His lips find yours in a searing kiss, his calloused hands smoothing over the soft, exposed skin of your thighs. Your lips move together in a gentle manner at first, as though you were allowing yourselves to get familiar all over again, but you were both quick to realize that gentleness was the last thing you needed.
Your breathing grows ragged as one of his hands cups the back of your head, tilting you just enough so that his tongue could easily slip into your mouth. The kiss was sloppier, messier, much more desperate. It was perfect, in your humble opinion.
His trails kisses down your cheek, jaw, neck… just about anywhere he could as he begins his gradual descent. His hands palm at your breasts through your shirt, and without hesitation, his hands grasp onto the fabric and yank it open. Buttons go flying about your living room, but Leon doesn’t seem to care with the way his face pressed into your cleavage.
One of his hands snaked behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and the moment he saw a nipple, his mouth was already distracted once again.
“Leon, that was my favorite shirt!” you scold, glancing down at him.
He looks up at you with hazed eyes, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth before he releases it to reply to you. “Was it?” he asks, his reply lacking any care in the slightest.
You nod, narrowing your eyes at him, but your front doesn’t last long when his tongue swirls around your areola. He reaches into his back pocket, tossing his wallet beside you.
“Buy a new one, shit, buy anything you want,” he whispers against your skin, his hands grasping onto your waist. “Tits are so pretty, baby. I missed you.”
“Is that all you missed about me?” you ask, a huff of laughter leaving your lips while his trail down your stomach.
“Absolutely not, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your panties. He looks at you as he pulls them down your legs, and he presses his warm lips to your inner calves and thighs as he makes his way towards you again. “Missed everything about you.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s corny—”
“Sh,” he tells you, holding one finger up while he uses his other hand to slip one into your sopping entrance. Your walls clench around him, which only forces a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Let her talk for a bit, yeah?”
He hardly gives you a moment to reply before his head dips, his tongue curling up to stimulate your clit before he sucks on it entirely. He unabashedly moans into your cunt, introducing another finger into your entrance simultaneously.
Your head falls back, your hand delving into his hair to hold him impossibly closer to you, even though he seriously would get closer if he could.
“Sweetest pussy,” he murmurs into your heat, his voice rumbling against your wet cunt that he continued to eat like he would die if he didn’t. “Do somethin’ for me?”
You pick your head up to look down at him, nodding without question. He opens his eyes to look at you in return, pressing a kiss onto your mound before he turns around so that his back is now pressed against the front of your couch, still sitting on the ground.
“Sit on my face,” he suggests, tipping his head back onto the couch cushion.
He reaches for your hand to pull you forward, and you pivot on your knee, your front facing the back of the couch. He lays a light smack on your ass before he pulls you down the rest of the way to make you sit on his face.
Your hand reaches down, clutching onto his hair yet again while you cry out in genuine bliss. His tongue softens as he gives you long, deep licks into your pussy, wanting to taste every inch of you on his tongue.
And when your hips start to rock, he seems to be even happier. Much more incentivized too. He lulls his tongue out of his mouth, flattening it to let you ride his face as you so pleased. You made a mess of his chin, his mouth, his nose—he hardly cares.
(In fact, he doesn’t care. Not one bit. You might even have to pay him to care.)
“Y-You know,” you whine, grasping a bit firmer onto his hair while your hips continue to roll on his tongue, “I’m still mad at you.”
He nods his head, which only stimulates your cunt even more. “Mm, yeah?”
It felt so good. Everything about this was absolutely ecstasy, you can feel your eyes pricking with tears from how stimulated you’re growing.
“Yeah,” you choke out, resting your palms on the back of the couch to brace yourself. “I’m really fucking mad.”
Leon can’t help but grin, his hands brushing along the plush of your thighs. “I’m not too sure, sweetheart. Not with you riding my face like you love me ‘n all.”
“Shut… shut the hell up,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your movements begin to grow even more crazed the closer you get to your release. He was right, but that didn’t mean you had to admit that.
“Okay,” he complies, his eyes fluttering shut while he starts to greedily make out with your pussy, feeling the way you pulsate on his tongue. “Shuttin’ me up real nice with this pretty little pussy. Cum on my face too while you’re at it, pretty girl.”
Not nice enough, but you cry out anyway, your head falling while your legs tremble on either side of his head. “I… Leon, ‘m cumming,” you say through an airy moan.
His movements slow as yours do, his tongue eagerly reaping the benefits of its labor in the form of your sweet release. He lets out a content sigh, pressing a few sweet kisses on your inner thigh.
You slowly rise up from his face, and he turns around to face you again, licking his lips, not caring about the rest of your thin slick that coats his face. You chuckle, running your hand over his face to wipe it away.
“So…” he drawls, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You’re still mad at me? Tell me more.”
“Later,” you reply, hooking your finger into the loophole of his pants to pull him closer to you.
With a chuckle, Leon pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly on the floor of your living room. He gently nudges you until you’re laying back on your couch, his hands then moving to undo his belt.
“Ah, I see,” he teases, pushing his pants and boxers down in one motion. He kicks them away before he settles in between your parted legs, his hand pumping his cock.
You raise your eyes from his cock to his eyes, and you give him the most weary expression alive. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say.
It’s been too long, you were certainly not used to his size anymore. Leon knew it just as well as you did, but he didn’t want to make you nervous by saying that.
His brows knit together as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers moving a bit lower to prod your entrance. “You flatter me,” he says against your lips, his head dipping a bit lower to kiss your neck. “No need to worry your pretty little head, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
You nod your head, one of your hands cupping the back of his head while the other rests on his strong shoulder. “Okay… yeah, okay.”
He nods too, moving one of his hands to meet the one that you have resting on his shoulder. He intertwines your fingers, pushing your hand back onto the couch while he uses his other one to slide his tip along your folds.
“I promise,” he whispers, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”
He always has. Even after the events of tonight, you know that he always will.
“I love you,” you say without thinking. A flush rushes across your face, and you close your eyes in utter embarrassment. (Seriously? A confession of your undying love while he’s actively entering you? Time and place.) “I’m so sorry, I—”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he whispers, pushing his cock further inside of you until he bottoms out. “Mm… I love you so much,” he replies without a care in the world. “And I’m not sorry about it.”
Your eyes soften at that, and a small chuckle leaves your lips. “Well… that’s good, isn’t it…?”
His eyebrows knit together, laughing softly at your awkward reply. “You’re such a dork, baby,” he whispers, dipping his head to plant a kiss on your lips while he rolls his hips into yours. “A pretty one, though.”
Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss on your lips, and they stay shut, even when he opts to just rest his forehead on yours. “Your dork,” you say, a bit breathlessly with a smile on your face.
“Mhm,” he nods in agreement, a toothy smile stretching across his face. “My dork.”
Such a lovely interaction that you nearly forgot that he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, because the moment he falls silent, your eyes widen. “Oh, God…”
He smiles, kissing your cheek while he continues to thrust inside of you, his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy in a way that made him feel like he was finally home.
“See?” he whispers in your ear, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re taking me so well, pretty. So well.”
That makes you chuckle, but your laugh doesn’t last for long when the head of his cock rams into you even harder. Your hand smooths out along the expanse of his back, dragging your nails back up.
“You’re crazy,” you gasp out.
Leon smiles. “Crazy about you, sure.”
You laugh through an airy moan, tilting your head to the side as your eyes flutter shut. “Soooo corny,” you whisper.
He shakes his head with his same toothy grin, using his free hand to tilt your chin towards him again. His thumb brushes along your bottom lip before he kisses you, and it is just about the sweetest kiss that you could have ever asked for.
“You love it,” he murmurs in reply, a bit breathless as an overwhelming heat pools in his lower stomach.
You shake your head. “I love you.”
Leon clicks his tongue at that, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I’m the corny one?”
That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh. He loves hearing you like this, so happy yet so utterly ruined by the way he feels inside of you. He knows that the feeling is mutual, which only amplifies how much he’s enjoying this. Having you again.
He softly moans in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Pussy was made for me,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”
After a few more strokes, he truly begins to lose himself. His cock twitches inside of you, and he dips his head into your shoulder. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” he rasps.
He pulls back, but you only pull him closer. It’s been so long, he hadn’t truly thought that you’d be okay with that. But here you were, his favorite girl. Always surprising him. “I love you, sweet girl.”
You nod your head, wrapping your free arm around his neck while the other gives his hand another squeeze. “I love you more.”
He grunts when your walls clench around his length, his lips pressing a longing kiss to your shoulder. “Cum with me, baby, c’mon. I need it, honey, please.”
You’re in no position to deny him or yourself. Your body trembles beneath him, a gorgeous moan ripping through the air while he buries himself deep inside of you, stuffing you full of his cum while you find your own release on his cock.
The two of you lay there for a moment, out of breath and entirely engulfed by one another. He slowly pulls out of you, pressing a few chaste kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, until he eventually kisses your lips.
When he pulls away, you smile up at him. You chase his lips once more, giving him a tender kiss before you lay your head back down.
“Now, as for why I’m still mad at you…”
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note. yeahhh i need him bad in a way that’s concerning to feminism. anywhoooo interact if you enjoyed i rly like writing for him :D thank you so much for reading!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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angelltheninth · 20 hours ago
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Arcane Characters Make Food for You
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.
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Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.
It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.
"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."
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Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.
There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.
"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."
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Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.
She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.
"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."
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Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.
She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.
"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."
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Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.
The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.
"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."
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Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.
He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.
"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."
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Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.
When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.
"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."
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Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.
Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.
"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."
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Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.
When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.
"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."
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Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.
That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.
"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"
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Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?
It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.
"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."
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ilovemosss · 20 hours ago
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YOU GET IT!!!! my tags were def looking more at like. specifically the much more surface level physical aspects of each character but yes. wade IS body horror from the perspective of his regenerative healing and functional immortality. that rapid healing and ability to regrow from everything absolutely is horrifying when viewed from that perspective. the idea of being able to regrow entire limbs, to come back from being just a head, and if you follow some lines of comic lore, wade wilson can regenerate from a single cell, whatever part of him his soul clings to. and that's the most interesting part, to me. the fact that he can regenerate that way in part because his soul can never untether itself from his body sweetens that horror pot. elevates it to something eldritch and Wrong. he can't ever die because his soul clings on, defying death, defying the laws of life and nature. i imagine that after a while, the average human can practically smell it, the sheer unnaturalness of his existence, and the same with logan. the pair of them together giving off this faint aura of Wrongess that nobody who doesn't know the truth can quite place. even their friends sometimes feel a cold shiver run up their spines if they look for too long. these are two beings that will outlive us all, whose bodies stubbornly refuse to be parted from their souls, and whose souls refuse to be parted from each other. combine that with the unnatural sharpness to logan's canines, and animalistic way he sometimes behaves. the way wade sometimes looks at the people he loves like he's already seen their corpses (and in vanessa's case, he has). that haunted look clings to people's minds, refuses to release them from its grip. wade and logan are terrifying, but not perhaps for the reasons people think. at first glance, perhaps wade's scars are offputting. maybe it's true that when he aims it at you, logan's glare is enough to make a grown man whimper and slink away. you're sure you imagined that predatory growl, except...did you? but the true horror lies marrow deep within them both. crouching in wait for the next time you stare deep into their eyes, and feel- just for a moment- the heavy weight of all their lifetimes settling on top of your lungs, suffocating.
Scars? Not body horror. Limb differences? Not body horror. Facial differences? Not body horror. Feeding tubes, colostomy bags, etc? Not body horror. Movement disorders? Not body horror. Visibly disabled people just existing is not horror.
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papaya-twinks · 2 days ago
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hii!! I love your writing ! 🥹 unfortunately I suffer from endometriosis so having sex isn‘t always easy for me and it can be quite uncomfortable to give your sexual partners a heads up beforehand so I wanted to request a fic where maybe reader has endometriosis and they have sex for the first time and she asks lando to be gentle and he‘s just so soft and takes care of her during and afterwards and stuff 🫶🏼
Warnings: Smut, 18+ soft!sex, endometriosis (only putting this as a warning coz some ppl think sexual conditions should be a warnings even though I disagree), oral (f receiving), lube.
Pairing: Lando Norris x endometriosis!fem!reader
A/N - idk what someone who has endometriosis is called :(, also, I’m sorry if I got anything wrong, I tried to research it, and it says lube and foreplay are good for endometriosis, correct me if I’m wrong xx
“Have you ever tried before?” Lando asked, his fingers slowly raking through your hair, your head resting on his chest, the subtle thump thump of his heartbeat in your ear. “I-I have,” you admitted, your hand intertwined with his, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm.
“He was such a dick, he didn’t even ask if it felt good, so I just faked it and left,” you mumbled as Lando sighed. “He sounds like a prick,” he said softly, “you’ve never had a proper orgasm before?”. You shook your head, your cheeks tinged slightly pink, almost embarrassed at the fact.
“And…you want me to give you your first?” he asked as you nodded, once again, nestling into his chest, almost hiding your face. He smiled, a soft, raspy chuckle from his lips as he slowly turned so you were on your back. You were scared, yes, of course you were. But you trusted Lando.
“Safe word’s papaya, okay?” he said, as you nodded, watching as he slowly tugged your shorts down, dragging your panties along with them with his teeth. Immediately initiating the safe word was the best thing he could’ve done in that moment. You could feel his breath on your thighs, his lashes tickling your skin as you waited.
“Lando,” you gasped, his finger coming to draw small circles round your clit, collecting the juices you’d already had from the small heat in your belly, the pad of his thumb resting between your folds. You’d expected him to just slide his finger in, or get you to suck his dick or something, but he hadn’t.
“So pretty,” he said softly, licking his fingers as he moved closer, pulling your legs gently over his shoulders so he could move his face closer to your core, his tongue licking a line up your folds, making you moan, your back arching slightly. “Oh, f-fuck,” you gasped.
“Makin’ pretty sounds f’me already,” he hummed, the words sending a vibration through your core, yours finger intertwining with his curls. You were wet now, almost soaking wet, your heat dripping onto his tongue, the precision of this man would be enough to send you into a fit of orgasms, fuck.
You whined as he moved away, watching as he reached into the drawer, pulling out some lube, and a towel, lifting your hips so he could slide it under you, and moving the pillows so your hes wad comfy. That was kinda surprising.
You knew Lando was a good boyfriend, but this…greenest flag ever, right? “Did my research, baby,” he smiled, almost bashfully, as he took a generous amount of the stuff into his palm, pushing his joggers down, spreading the lube onto his member.
“You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, moving his tip to rest at your entrance. “I’m gonna push in, okay? But first, you gotta tell me the safe word again,” he said, his hand moving to push your hair from your face. “Lando,” you whined, almost in a daze, your mind blank.
“Baby, we’re not doing this unless I have the safe word, and you know it,” he said firmly. And, in some ways, the tone of his voice was an even bigger turn-on. “Papaya, papaya,” you whined, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. “Good,” he said, kissing your jaw.
You hissed as he pushed in, a sharp pain settling into your uterus, his movements stopping immediately. “More lube?” he asked, as you nodded, watching him pull out so only his head hung inside of you, spreading more of the stuff over his cock.
“Better?” he asked, pushing in, watching your face go blank, lips parting silently with need. “Y-Yeah,” you nodded, his cock sitting inside of you, your tummy bulging a bit with his length. “Perfect,” he hummed, slowly moving, ever-so slowly, not enough to make you feel pleasure, but enough to make sure you knew he was there.
“I want you to tell me to speed up or slow down, okay?” he asked you nodded, hands on his shoulders. “More,” you said, your voice a little choked as he sped up, another moan on your lips. His movements sped upon your command, your stomach tightening.
“G-Gonna cum,” you gasped, your eyes rolling. “Better not be f-fake, yeah?” he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but still gentle. You nodded, closing your eyes as your first ever orgasm hit, your body shaking, Lando’s cock twitching inside of you as his cum pooled out, his seed spilling through.
“You’re so good,” he gasped, gently pulling out, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You said nothing, just panting, your chest rising and falling as he moved you softly so you were in his arms, lying on his chest as he took a towel from the side, wiping his cock and your thighs clean.
You hummed, resting in his chest, eyes drooping, tired already as he smiled. “Enjoyed that?” he asked, as you nodded, “didn’t even use the safe word, that’s how good you are,” he kissed your jaw again, moving your hair from your face, his hands rubbing small circles into your tummy.
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henrycangelbaby · 24 hours ago
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Thinking about John Price and his cute little assistant (reader) who ends up pregnant. 
A/N: Guys i was inspired while scrolling on the john price x reader tag, this legit came to me as a vision and now i have to write it (I plan on expanding on this idea so just stay with me!!!!)
Imagine being John Price's cute little assistant, just the sweetest little thing that John is kinda obsessed with. Like don't get me wrong she is amazing at her job, smart, put together and well organized and John does feel that her addition has been a positive one, taking some pressure off his shoulders and making sure his team is always prepared for whatever they are doing. She is very good at what she does, but that doesn’t stop John from admiring her. He knows he shouldn't be bit, he can't help it, she's young and sweet and a little bit innocent and he just wants to protect and love her all the time. 
In the beginning she was shy, only addressing him as sir and knocking on his door hesitantly whenever she needed to speak to him but gradually their boundaries became less and less. More often than not she works out of his office, whether he’s there or not, he insists on buying her an early lunch when she lets slip that she didn't have breakfast that morning. He has even picked her up from a night out once or twice, a little bit tipsy and calling the most trusted person she can think of that just happened to be her boss. He takes care of her as well, helping her get her makeup and clothes off before tucking her into her bed with a bottle of water and pain killers for the morning. He doesn't mention it when he sees her next, knowing how embarrassed she will be when he tells her the loneliness her tipsy self admitted. 
When she starts to get sick John is having absolutely none of it, driving her home and ordering her to take some time off (he even visits later that night to bring her some soup for her stomach). He doesn't expect her to look so sad when she comes back supposedly better from her “flu”, he doesn't expect to see her eyes shine with tears when he asks “what's wrong babygirl?”.  He sits them down on the couch in his office together, putting an arm over her and pulling her close for comfort. He certainly does not expect her to look up at him with those shiny wet eyes and admit she did something bad before crying that she's pregnant. It’s news to John who never even considered that his girl would be dating (let alone sleeping with) people. When he vocalizes this and she admits that her baby daddy isn't a very good guy, it's over for John. 
Suddenly he's all over her, promising to be there for her, that she can come to him whenever she needs. And he actually means it. Suddenly she’s staying in the spare bedroom in his house, not only does it have more room but John can keep an eye on her. She entirely moves into his office working on his desk with him, he gets her a comfy chair so she can be supported in the later months. He gets up to hold her hair back when she has morning sickness and ensures she gets enough nutritious food each day. When she starts showing, oh my god John doesn't know what to do with himself. That little bump peaking out of her tight skirts makes him foam at the mouth. Of course he prioritizes her comfort, insisting she change shoes and stop wearing those uncomfortable looking heels, but he keeps her in her formal work attire for just a little longer, just so he can see her cute tummy poking out of it. 
Speaking of her bump. He simply can't resist putting his hand on it. He feels so protective over it, best believe he goes feral if anyone tries to touch it. Hell all but breaks loose when his precious baby looks up at him with teary eyes telling him how uncomfortable she was when some rando put their hand on her stomach, (someone definitely lost their job that day). He eventually has her sitting in his lap, cooing over her and reassuring her that they won't get in trouble, that really he is the big boss anyways. He just loves having her there, perched on top of him he rests his head on her shoulder both arms coming around to cradle her now bigger bump. 
John mandates maternity leave when she starts getting big, maybe around seven months when she spends a lot of her time complaining about back aches and swollen ankles, of course he does what he can to help her but it gets to the point where he knows that she should be resting. He has to basically forcibly put her on leave, reassuring her panics about money by promising to take care of her. And oh boy does he. He gives her foot massages and holds her belly, when she starts outgrowing her clothes best believe he would hand over any of his so she can fit in them more comfortably. He's just all over her, unable to stomach the fact that soon she will have a real live baby. That baby is about to become the most protected baby in the entire world.
That's all I have for now because I fear if I begin rambling about the rest of the 141 neither of us might make it out alive. (just know this baby is going to be so damn spoiled it’s crazy). 
298 notes · View notes
why4anne · 2 days ago
Text
Juno
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Category: Social Media au
Summary: Pop star Y/N L/N cannot behave herself on social media. But who can blame her when her boyfriend looks like that?
Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter
Masterlist
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yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, taylorswift and others
yourusername: Just a little something I wrote recently🤭
Juno out tonight 8pm EST
view comments:
user1: Girlie is finally releasing music again?? Album when???
user2: Pop is back!
user3: you'll find me SCREAMING
user4: Juno?? Like the goddess of love and marriage..?
- user5: Wait! You're onto something!!!!
- user6: y'all what if she means the movie
- user7: what movie?
- user6: Dang, you're making me feel old
taylorswift: They're not ready for it
- user8: TAYLOR????? HELLOOOO??
- user9: REP TV REFERENCE!!!
- user10: easter egg??!!!
- user 11: girl that's a whole easter basket
joeyb_9: nice dress
- user12: excuse me? sir?
- user13: I just know they're up to something
lahjay10_: Joe has not stopped smiling all morning practice
- user14: It's about him then???
- user15: He's giggling and kicking his feet I just know it
user16: Joe can you fight??
- joeyb_9: yes I can
- user16: oop- I was not expecting that
- user17: he gagged you fr
user18: I don't know if I wanna be her, or be with her
- user19: the struggle is real
yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, zendaya and others
yourusername: oops... wrong pic🤭 Juno out now btw
view comments:
user1: you're this thirsty on main????!!!!
user2: girl calm down
user3: NOW THATS WHAT I CALL AN OVULATION SONG
user4: I'm actually speechless after listening to this...
- user5: No becuase WHAT DO YOU MEAN MARK YOUR TERRITORY???!!
user5: hold me and explore me??? GIRL!
user6: SOMEONE NEEDS TO CONTROL MY GIRL Y/N
- user7: we need to spay her frfr
user8: tf you mean freaky positions???
user9: I mean, have you seen her man??? I don't blame her
- user10: The only pop-girlie with a hot boyfriend I fear
- user11: Louis Partridge exists yk
user12: I was gonna say you swan🦢 he frog🐸 but I fear can't
user13: how are you able to look your parents in the eyes after this girl???
user14: She and Joe be freaky like that ig
joeyb_9: I feel honored
- user15: YOU GUYS ARE INSANE!!
- user16: did not expect this when I woke up this morning
- user17: Joe, are you well???
user18: I always knew they were freaky
yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, milliebobbybrown and others
yourusername: One of me is cute, but two though?
Surprise! Double whammy you guys 34+35 out now!
view comments:
user1: SHE'S INSANE!
user2: nah what do you mean 34+35??? you freakyyyyy!!!
user3: tf you mean "got the neighbors yelling earthquake"????
user4: What kind of freak-juice do they put in the water in Cincinnati?
user5: Let me breath, damn. I haven't even recovered from Juno yet
joeyb_9: I can make sure that there is two of you by this time next year
- yourusername: I just might let you🤭
- lahjay10_: BRING BACK SHAME!!!!
- jjettas2: NORMALIZE BULLYING!!!
- user6: Ja'marr?? Justin?? hello???
- user7: I stand with Justin and Ja'marr because writing this on main is CRAZY
- user8: WE NEED TO PUT BOTH JOE AND Y/N IN HORNY JAIL!
user9: That's enough screen time for you missy
user10: THESE LYRICS ARE CRAZYYYY
- user11: They're not even trying to be subtle
user12: Didn't Joe say in one interview that he goes to bed by like 8pm. Tf you mean "we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"??
- user13: One of them is lying and I think it's the blonde one
- user14: both of them are blonde
- user13: @/youmissedthejoke
user15: yall are acting like this is sum crazy shit but if I had a boyfriend who looked like that I would be acting WAYYYY worse
- user16: FR! Like if I looked like Y/N and my bf looked like Joe, you would not be catching us leaving the house
yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, alix_earle and others
yourusername: Have you ever tried this one?
view comments:
user1: Ma'am there are kids on this app
joeyb_9: yeah we did it last night, remember?
- yourusername: no, can you remind me😇
- lahjay10_: EW EW EW EW EW
- lahjay10_: THAT'S ENOUGH!
- lahjay10_: I NEED BLEACH FOR MY EYES
- lahjay10_: I'M TELLING MANAGEMENT!!
- lahjay10_: THIS IS AN HR ISSUE
- user2: is Ja'marr okay?
- user3: He's crashing out
- user4: bro is tweaking
user5: we can try it out if you want to🤭
- joeyb_9: She's busy
- user6: we need lock him up or something
- yourusername: would handcuffs suffice?
- user7: EXCUSE ME!!???
- user8: Girl this is a public comment section!
- user9: Saying that on Beyonce's internet is CRAZY
user10: looked at myself and sighed
user11: girl, who is in charge of your social media??
user12: we need to lobotomize her or something
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lahjay10_:
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liked by teehiggins, andreiiosivas and others
lahjay10_: The trenches look a little different when you in the inside of the Spectre.
view comments:
user1: #unblocky/n
user2: #unblocky/n
user3: #unblocky/n
user4: #unblocky/n
joeyb_9: #unblocky/n
- user5: help- not Joe joining us
- user6: y/n is this you?
- joeyb_9: Nope, this is actually Joe
- user7: I can't with this man😭
lahjay10_: aight what the hell is going on?
- user8: #unblocky/n
- user9: #unblocky/n
yourusername: I'VE BEEN UNBLOCKED!!🥳
- user10: welcome back queen
- lahjay10_: hope you happy now
- yourusername: the happiest😁
yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, andreiiosivas and others
yourusername: AAAAAAAHHHH! JOE BURROW PLEASE PUSH ME UP A WALL AND THROW ME ACROSS THE ROOM! I wanna climb this man like a tree. I wanna gnaw on his biceps like a beaver and I wanna scratch his back like a goddamn feral cat!
view comments:
user1: is she okay?
user2: I can just tell that she's ovulating
user3: well you can actually do that if you want to #wearenotthesame
user4: on main is CRAZY
user5: I didn't realize this was Y/N's account, deadass thought it was a horny fan-account💀
joeyb_9: That can be arranged
- user6: He's so nonchalant with it😭
- user7: I know I should be used to this by now but at the same time his comments never fails to flabbergast me
- user8: Remember when we used to have shame?
- jjettas2: pause.
user9: Yall are calling her crazy but she's so real for this
user10: I can't with this girl💀
andreiiosivas: are you okay?
- user11: Help not Andrei lowkey being concerned😭
- user12: She just ovulating, don't worry
[This post has been deleted]
yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_ and others
yourusername: Juno is now number one on the Billboard hot 100! Thank you so much to everyone who streamed🩵
view comments:
user1: this caption does not sound like my girl Y/N
user2: where is crazy Y/N?
user3: did you get your social media hacked or sum?
user4: I think her team took her social media away😭
- user5: yeah cuz her last (extremely unhinged) post was deleted too
- user6: Noooooo! I lived for Y/N's posts
- user7: me too girl😔
user8: I'll miss you diva💜
user9: #wewanty/n
- user10: #wewanty/n
- user11: #wewanty/n
- user12: #wewanty/n
user13: congratulations, but please give my girl back her account
user14: The biggest sign that this isn't Y/N is that Joe didn't comment
- user15: fr! he always comments on her posts
- user16: he's silent protesting💀
lahjay10_: I can finally scroll on instagram without getting a jumpscare🙏 I used to pray for times like this!
- user17: Ja'Marr😭
- user18: Bro rejoicing💀
joeyb_9:
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liked by lahjay10_, sam_hubbard_ and others
joeyb_9: Since someone got her social media privileges taken away, I had to be the one to post this photo of her because she said: "I look cute in this photo, the world deserves to witness it"
view comments:
user1: get yourself a man who posts you on his instagram when you can't!
user2: she was right, I had to witness this🙂‍↕️
user3: mother is mothering!!!
lahjay10_: you down bad bro
- joeyb_9: and?
- user4: THAT'S A MAN!
- user5: I swear my pants were JUST on
jjettas2: what happened to the social media break?
- joeyb_9: boyfriend duties called
- user6: When he breaks his social media break for you>>
user7: Thank you for blessing us like this🙏
user8: I am straight, I am straight, I am straight
user9: Joe is so lucky😔
- user10: He gets to wake up to this everyday😫
- joeyb_9: It's a pretty sweet sight ngl
- user 11: STOP😭
- user12: bro be reading all the comments
- joeyb_9: gotta make sure only nice things are said
- user13: stop that's so cute🥹
One year later:
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yourusername:
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liked by joeyb_9, jjettas2 and others
yourusername: I let him make me Juno
view comments:
joeyb_9: Prettiest mommy in the whole world ❤️
user1: OMG I AM TOTALLY NOT FREAKING OUT!
user2: mother is a real mother???
user3: Those unhinged posts actually led to this???
user4: CONGRATS!!!!
jjettas2: Congratulations you two! So happy for you!
teehiggins: QB loading...
lahjay10_: Blessed to be baby Burrow's uncle🙏
sam_hubbard_: Congratulations!❤️
andraiiosivas: The best parents!
user5: when mama y papa actually become mama y papa🥲
277 notes · View notes
fromthestacks · 2 days ago
Text
I’ve been sitting with this for a couple days because I want to respond (hopefully) thoughtfully. And on the one hand, it’s a really good point and I can see how all the “I hate men” stuff could wear on the guys who AREN’T, you know, raging assholes. But on the other hand, my forty years of lived experience is pushing back on that. Long-winded rant under the cut.
I have a fair amount of men in my life by choice- family, friends, boyfriend. The ones I choose to spend time with are, by and large, really good guys. They’ve also heard more than their fair share of my own “I hate men” rants, and to their credit they’ve never been upset about it. They know I don’t mean them because my words and actions back it up, and they understand where I’m coming from because they hear the stories accompanying said rants and generally agree with my assessment.
All this to say, as much as I sympathize with the good guys who have to listen to the “I hate men” rants, I also very much don’t, because they have arguably more power to help shift that narrative than I do. The shitty men of the world do not care that people think they’re shitty, they are not changed by reason or logic. Men who, for example, sexually harass women don’t (generally) hear the many, many stories from women’s perspectives and have a lightbulb moment where they realize how wrong they’ve been. They will likely never be Ebenezer Scrooge throwing open the windows to wish the town poors a merry Christmas. But maybe, just maybe, if enough of the good guys start speaking up to call them on their behavior, that might have even a small effect on them.
“It shouldn’t be our responsibility” well no shit, grown adults shouldn’t need to be spoon fed basic human decency, but here we are. Women telling men how much we hate being catcalled doesn’t seem to be fucking working, so if the good guys aren’t willing to try telling them, then I’m out of ideas that aren’t along the lines of Goodbye Earl.
One last thing, this is getting away from me. I work a public service job, and it involves a fair amount of face time with people needing help finding things and using stuff like printers. I’m always polite and reasonably friendly, but it’s never anything beyond professionally kind. Even at that, it’s more than half of my interactions with men that leave me feeling uncomfortable. I’ve had men try to take my hand, I’ve had men ask if I’m single thirty seconds into me walking to their computer to help, I’ve had men stand right behind my chair while I’m looking something up. “Why don’t you just say something to them?” Because I’m not trying to get assaulted or shouted at, I’m trying to make it to the end of my shift and go home. It’s extremely well documented that a lot of men don’t handle rejection well, which ends with a lot of women getting assaulted or worse. And the thing about THAT is, you never know which men are gonna be the ones to lose their cool. So you just hedge your bets and tread carefully with everyone in case.
SO. What this very long-winded rant is saying, is that a lot of women encounter a lot of shitty men, and it sucks absolute donkey dick to deal with. If the good guys out there want to stop hearing about how terrible men are, they need to step the fuck up and help, because women are exhausted. The other, smaller, part that they might not like is that it’s not our job to constantly reassure them that I don’t include them when I say “I hate men”. If I’m spending time with you, and trusting you with these stories or complaining or whatever, then go ahead and take it on faith that I don’t mean you.
Maybe I’m alone in feeling this way, I don’t know. Just needed to get this out there.
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I couldn't have said it better myself.
71K notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 3 days ago
Note
Ohhh babes I saw you want angst and YES Miscommunication + secret dating TOTES SOUNDS 🔥 . So, Eddie n reader dating on the dl bc Eddie worried reader would get treated bad or bullied?? but he didn’t actually tell her that Just asked to keep it secret/quiet/whatev. So maybe Billy Steve or ??? knows Eddie is her friend and asks Eddie like whats she like, she dating anyone, I wanna take her out.
And Eddie straight panics and instead of oh she’s got a boyfriend at another school or some smart… he down talks her. she boring, annoying, she always [thing reader actually does alot!], dont bother. And course reader hears and is right devastated and thinks thats why the dl, cause he’s embarrassed/using her for sex/it’s all a big joke to him.
After end of day in private she breaks up with him, doesn’t say she overheard. Eddie has no idea what he did wrong, she avoids him, won’t talk. He’s broken. Finally he finds out she heard what he said and what she thinks. Could it end happy eventually? Like maybe he makes a loud speech like he does on the caff tables to show he’s never been embarrassed of her, yeah?
Hurt me with the angst babes. Xoxo
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
DL
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Y/N wasn't the best at keeping secrets, everything she felt was said on her face. She never saw the point in secrets, which is why she felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world. Because here she was keeping her whole damn six month relationship a secret.
It wasn't that she wanted to. Her boyfriend begged her and she tried to understand. She loved being with Eddie and it hurt to be a secret. She wanted to be with him so she agreed to give him time.
She felt like six months was enough time. She was growing a little irradiated and bothered. Anytime they talked about it Eddie said he was ready. But it never seems to happen.
Eddie locked the van and the two began walking towards the small restaurant. Y/N walked close by, her hand inching to slide her hand in his. Upon contact, Eddie was fast to move his hand in his pocket. Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and added a bit of space between them.
"About time," Dustin groaned, welcoming the two to the table. Y/N sat across, moving over for Eddie to fit in the spot next to her. She wasn't surprised when he took the seat next to Dustin instead, but it still hurt.
"What's that?" Dustin asked, noticing a dark mark on Eddie's neck. Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she realized she left something behind from their makeout earlier. Dustin flicked the mark, making Eddie hiss.
Eddie quickly looked at Y/N, her smirk obvious. "Nothing."
"That's a hickey! Who are you getting nasty with?" Dustin teased
"Some random chick at the bar, drop it," Eddie hissed through his teeth. Y/N knew it was a lie, obviously, but hearing his lie made her stomach turn.
"Damn dude, massive hickey," Steve laughed as he joined the group, sliding into the open spot near Y/N. Eddie stiffened when Steve was shoulder-to-shoulder with her.
"Yeah apparently a chick at the bar," Dustin giggled, "Was it Lauren? She always looks at you after your shows."
Eddie gulped as Y/N's hard gaze landed on him. She'd been to see him play a few times, and she didn't know who this Lauren was.
"Lauren? Who's that, Eddie?" she asked, a fake smile plastered on her face
"I've never talked to her, so I don't know who she is. And it wasn't her so like I said, drop it," Eddie demanded. The table got awkward as Eddie fumed as he looked over the menu.
Y/N couldn't help but glare at him over the top of her menu. Maybe she wasn't the only secret girl in his life.
"Anyway, how is your day going?" Steve asked, Eddie looked up to see who the question was for. His blood boiling as Steve turned his body to face Y/N completely.
Dustin tried to talk to Eddie, but he was laser-focused on Steve flirting with his girlfriend.
~~~
Eddie didn't realize how big of a mistake it was to be a secret until he was hit with the reality of someone wanting her.
"DON'T RUN!" Steve yelled as the gang ran through the arcade. Eddie laughed as they ignored him, running without a care in the world.
Eddie went to walk away but Steve grabbed his arm. Eddie froze and looked down at his hand, making Steve retreat.
"Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something," Steve said. He nervously put his hands in his pockets. "You and Y/N are pretty close right?"
Eddie felt a hot rush of jealousy run through his body, just by hearing another man say her name. "Why?"
"Do you know if she's seeing anyone? The few times she's been around I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I want to ask her out," Steve explained. Eddie scoffed at the red blush that coated his cheeks. He was blushing over his girlfriend?
"Y/N, oh you don't want to ask her out!" Eddie scoffed, letting out a soft chuckle.
"Why?" Steve awkwardly laughed. Neither boy recognized Y/N walking up to them.
"She-she-uh- she's so clingy. I've heard from all of her ex-boyfriends that she's good in bed, but that's it. She's got a boring personality. She's a bit annoying, with all her "save the planet, don't do drugs, and cigarettes are poison". You look like an independent guy, Steve. Do you want a girl to nag and control you?" Eddie asked, planting a hard smack on the boy's shoulder. Steve hissed at the connection, rubbing the skin when Eddie removed his hand.
Y/N felt her throat burn as she took in Eddie's words. It all made sense now. He was embarrassed by her, hell he didn't even like her. He was interested in the sex, that's all she was good for. She swallowed her sobs and walked off. She didn't care to hear what Steve would say. She was falling in love with Eddie and he couldn't stand her.
Eddie smiled in victory as Steve walked off to a machine. With the sudden interest in Y/N, Eddie felt the need to see his girlfriend. He didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone, heading out to his van.
It didn't take long for him to arrive at her house. He parked his van down the street and snuck over to her window. He pulled himself up on her roof, thankful it was night so no one would be calling the cops.
He tapped on her window.
She sighed as she heard Eddie at her window. She wasn't ready to see him.
"Come on, baby. I wanna see you,"
She wiped off her face and walked to the window. She opened the curtain but didn't open the window.
"What the hell do you want?" She spat. Eddie flinched at the venom on her tongue.
"Woah, what the hell did I do?" Eddie asked.
"Are you going to tell people about us?" She asked, keeping her head held high.
"Baby," he sighed, she scoffed and shook her head. She already knows the speech.
"We're done, Munson. Now get the fuck off my roof," she hissed. She closed her curtains and raced to shut off her light.
Eddie stared at his reflection as he tried to process what happened. He rapidly knocked on her window but she never came back.
"Y/N!" He harshly whispered, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He continued to knock but left that night with no reply.
~
The next morning Eddie was already racing back to her house.
But again, got no reply.
~~~
It took around three days for the gang to notice Y/N wasn't around. They all wanted to ask but there was this look on Eddie's face that made them scared to ask. Dustin was worried for his friend. Eddie was always moody and snippy. But now he seemed so sad and in pain. Dark bags under his eyes and his voice always sounded dry and cracked.
Steve felt a little awkward about it. Feeling like he was the cause of whatever happened.
No one in the gang was close enough to her to ask her what happened. So everyone was stuck with not knowing what went down between the two.
Eddie's eyes followed her everywhere. It seemed no matter where she went, those brown puppy eyes were warning her skin. She knew she'd suffer with seeing him at school, but she didn't think he'd be so obvious that he suffered too. She was shocked to see he was affected but she convinced herself she didn't care.
Eddie was falling apart and he didn't care to hide it. He had one amazing thing in his life and he fucked it up.
Eddie let another week pass before he got desperate. He knew he was going to look insane, but he was done. The next time he saw her, in the halls at school, he quickly picked her up and locked them in a classroom.
"Are you insane!" She hissed, slapping him as he dropped her.
"It's time we talk,"
"I don't want to talk, Eddie. I told you we're done," she went to walk past him but he stepped in front of her.
"Can I explain myself? If you knew why I kept us a secret, it might help," he pleaded but she shoved him against the wall.
Her face was close to his as she stared him down. "I know exactly why you wanted to keep us a secret."
"You do?" He gulped. He was embarrassed that he got bullied as practically a young man.
"I heard everything you had to say to Steve. So no, knowing that my boyfriend doesn't even like me doesn't help at all! I'm glad I gave you a few good fucks, asshole. I'll make sure to give Steve the best head of his life so he can ignore all the flaws about me."
Eddie growled as Steve's name left her lips. He harshly grabbed the back of her neck and shoved his lips against hers. He was possessive and jealous, reminding her he was the best she'd ever had. She fought to not kiss him back but she was weak. She melted into him and lost herself in his lips.
"No one will ever have you like I do," he growled.
She shoved him away from her. "Well to the whole world, I'm open to take."
"I made all that shit up, okay? I didn't want Steve to go after you. I got jealous and instead of telling the truth, I choked. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean anything I said."
"If you didn't mean anything you said, then why am I still your secret?" she whimpered. She felt exhausted from the secrets, it was making their relationship harder than it needed to be. "I am so tired of being ignored by you. I feel used when we have sex and the very next day, I'm nothing to you. You don't want anyone to have me, yet it seems like you don't even want me." Eddie frowned as tears slipped down her face.
"Please don't cry, baby. I do want you, and I'll always want you. It's just that I'm a loser, baby. The town hates me, and I'm a held-back senior who still gets bullied by the jocks. It's embarrassing, I'm embarrassing. And I didn't want you to receive the treatment I get. You don't deserve to be treated like shit because you gave me a chance," he explained. She could see all the emotion in his eyes and she sensed all the truth he spoke. "I thought I was protecting you but I can see I did it all wrong."
"I don't care about anyone or what they think. All I've wanted was for us to be together," she whispered as she cupped his face, allowing him to press his body against hers.
"I'm sorry for everything. I love you so much and I want everyone to know. I don't want anyone to think they have a chance with you," he muttered, his lips inches away from hers.
"Then show them,"
He smirked and ran out the door. She wasn't sure where he was going to go, quickly following. He busted through the cafeteria doors and stood on a table with his dirty sneakers.
"Eddie!" Y/N hissed but he sent her a wink.
"ATTENTION PLEASE!" the room went quiet as they turned to look at Eddie. Some people whispering.
"IS ANYONE HERE INTERESTED IN THE LOVELY Y/N?"
She felt her skin burn as the attention turned to her. She begged Eddie to get done but this was what she asked for.
Eddie didn't wait for anyone to answer, "TOO BAD. SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND!"
"Can you get down here now?" she asked, Eddie stepped down and the cafeteria went back to talking among themselves.
"That work for you?" he asked, scooping her in his arms. She laughed and nodded. He gave her a quick peck on the lips before a teacher came over to discipline him for his commotion.
"See you after detention, m'lady," another wink sent her way.
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suguru, who gets surprised by just how tight you're squeezing him the first time you have sex.
he had you pressed down on your back, his eyes lidded as he pushed into you, inch by veiny, wonderful inch. "you're doing so good, sweetheart," he praises, running his hands up and down your shaking thighs. "don't know why you're so tight, baby, are you alright?" he murmured, kissing your cheek, then your lips. he couldn't get enough of the little noises you were making. mewling, whining, babbling his name as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. "why're you crying, sweetie?" suguru cooed, frowning as he paused in the gentle roll of his hips to grab your face in his hand. "something wrong? what is it?" you whined, closing your eyes tightly and trying to will the tears away. "n-nothin', jus- this's my firs' time.." you mumble, scrubbing at your cheek with your wrist. "what?"
suguru pulls out entirely, his eyes going wide. "you can't be serious. why didn't you tell me? i would have gone slower." you shake your head, closing your legs. "'m sorry," you mumble and let out a shaky huff.
suguru sighs. "..don't apologize for being a virgin, gorgeous. its only that if i knew, it wouldn't have been uncomfortable for you." he lets out a huff to match yours, squeezing your cheeks in his hand. "open your eyes and look at me, sweet girl."
you comply, opening one eye and pouting up at him. god, you're so cute. its a wonder he hasn't gotten down on his knees and begged you to marry him already.
"do you want me to keep going?" he says softly, squeezing your face again.
you pause. do you? you can't quite get over the initial sting, but if he goes slow, it probably won't hurt as bad.
"..yes, please." "alright, sweetheart."
so he does, starting out with slow pumps of his fingers this time, unraveling you nerve by nerve until you're gushing on his thumb and the two fingers curled into your gummy walls. he took extra care in going slow, using his fingers first, making sure it felt good for you. his blunt nails dig into your hips as he bottoms out, his eyes lidded and chest heaving. "please let me go faster, now, baby. i can' do this," he breathes, pressing his forehead against your chest, rolling his hips in a tantalizing circle. "i can't make you feel good goin' so slow..." he whines, dragging open mouthed, sticky kisses over your shoulders and throat before you finally give in and let him take you how he wants to.
lucky for him, you've gotten accustomed to him by now. he doesnt waste a moment after you nod your head yes, gently jostling your legs forward to press against your shoulders. he babbles mindlessly against your skin, rocking just an inch deeper and groaning with relief as your gummy, syrupy heat sucks him in deeper. his thumb is clumsy as it presses to your clit, if only because he can't form a coherent thought to tease you. as his rough digits collect your slick on them, breaking away from your clit, you can't help but open one eye- suguru is watching you, his fingers in his mouth as he sucks them clean of you and gives you a drunken, delirious grin. the thick head of his cock is practically rearranging your insides at this point, and you cant think enough to complain at all (because why would you?) while he fucks you stupid. he swallows your moans in a sloppy, desperate kiss, his hands kneading at your thighs and his tongue sliding against yours. one of his hands slides down from your leg, resuming the gentle pressure against your clit that has you cumming in minutes. your head swims, vision filled with stars, and you dont think you'll ever recover, until suguru is kissing you again and pulling out. "sugu...?" you breathe, reaching for him, pouting through the haze of your recent orgasm as your skin tingles. "where're you goin'..." "relax, baby." he purrs, giving you a kiss on the forehead. "i'm getting you water and an ibuprofen."
you hum deliriously, snuggling into the pillows of your bed and trying to regain some semblance of consciousness. "okaayy...come back?" "i'll be back in a minute, gorgeous." he gives you a lingering kiss, and then leaves your line of sight for a glass of water and painkillers.
you might as well start planning the wedding.
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liketolaugh-writes · 16 hours ago
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I've been playing with a no-one-knows AU where Danny has been married to Jason for years but hasn't told him his secret. Jason knows that Danny isn't human, but hasn't pressed because Danny is so terrified when he approaches the topic. The Batfamily do not know.
Presently, the GIW are in Gotham and closing in, and the Box Ghost has come to Danny seeking help.
----
“You’re a ghost,” Jason said gently, pulling one of Danny’s hands away from his face to wrap it in his own. Danny let him. “Aren’t you?”
Danny’s breath hitched again.
Surprisingly, the Box Ghost looked almost as horrified as Danny.
“What? NO! I, the BOX GHOST, would not out Danny Fenton to his human family! For he is as human as I once was!” He flailed his arms in blatant panic. “There is nothing to reveal, for Danny Fenton is most certainly NOT a ghost!”
“What’s wrong with Danny being a ghost?” Box Lunch wanted to know, tilting her head up to peer up at her father in confusion. “Is it a secret?”
“BOX LUNCH!” the Box Ghost wailed, every inch a mortified parent.
“Yes, it was, or your father would not be so blatantly lying about it,” Damian told her, taking pity on the child ghost.
“Oh!” Box Lunch nodded seriously. “Danny isn’t a ghost!”
Danny let out a slightly hysterical laugh, and then started to cry, gasping quietly with tears pouring down his face, hunched down to hide from them. He didn’t pull his hand out of Jason’s.
“It is no longer a secret here, as it has become apparent,” Damian elaborated.
Box Lunch scrunched up her nose. “Oh.”
“Ghosts are not bad,” Cass said softly, “if ghosts are Danny.”
“Danny.” Jason scooted closer and pulled Danny against him, and Danny let him, pressing into him without unwinding at all. “Danny, I already knew. I’ve known for years.” Danny tilted his head up to give him an incredulous look, and Jason grinned at him. “You’re not good at hiding it, stardust. Your freckles glow when you’re excited and your eyes flash green when you’re frustrated. You walk through closed doors when you’re sleepy and things fall through your hands when people startle you. I’ve known you aren’t human since we moved in together.”
“…Oh,” Danny murmured, guilt and relief and wonder swirling together in his still-wet eyes.
“Phantom!” the Box Ghost scolded. Jason took note of the sudden change in address. “You are the worst secret keeper ever!”
“Shut up, Boxy,” Danny snapped. He pulled away from Jason and wiped his eyes, sniffling. Their hands stayed locked together. “We, we need to hide you and bitty-bite b-before we talk about this any more. I wasn’t joking about the Guys in White.”
The Box Ghost flapped his arms dismissively. “They will not find us! They are looking for YOU, and their instruments will not be prepared for such subtle spirits as Box Lunch and I!”
“They are looking for me while I am hiding,” Danny said, soft but barbed. He wiped his face again and turned around to better face the other ghost, glaring sharply. “Something I am well known to be very good at. Far better at than you.”
The Box Ghost went so pale he was almost translucent.
“You don’t look like a ghost at all,” Tim said, studying Danny. “Your skin is pink, you don’t glow… most of the time, no pointed ears or fangs. Your eyes are normal.” His eyes narrowed. “Is this… not your natural appearance?”
Danny flinched. “I… I…” He swallowed, staring at nothing, and then forced his attention back onto the Box Ghost. “Your base signatures are pretty low. If you stop using your powers and suppress your auras as much as you can, you can probably bring them low enough to hide.”
No answers would be forthcoming for now, Jason understood. He signaled sharply to Bruce and Tim, the most likely to try to interrupt. Wait. Time-sensitive, finish operation before proceeding.
Bruce didn’t look pleased, but he nodded sharply. Tim just watched, thoughtful eyes fixed on Danny. Damian was scowling, Dick frowning faintly, but Cass’ curiosity looked borderline idle. Jason watched Danny interact with the other ghost with a healthy blend of interest and concern, and tried not to wonder if Tim was right.
“Box Lunch, do you know how to land?” Danny asked. It seemed like a silly question until Box Lunch wrinkled her nose and cocked her head.
“Land?” she asked, audibly uncertain. For that matter, her father looked vaguely baffled too. “Like… with my feet? On the floor?”
Danny managed a smile and nodded. Box Lunch eyed the floor, then drifted down to hover at floor level. “Like this?”
“Not exactly,” Danny said, sounding more fond than anything. He slid off the bar stool and knelt down in front of Box Lunch. Jason couldn’t look away; he’d been deprived of any open knowledge of Danny’s nonhuman side for so long that his curiosity was damn near insatiable now. And Danny teaching a kid of his species? That was doing things to Jason. Good things. “Close your eyes.” Box Lunch did. “Feel the energy in the air. Do you feel gravity? Do you sense how it pulls things down?” She nodded uncertainly. “Hold onto that feeling. Let it hold onto you. Do you feel it?” Nod. “Good. Now- let go of the sky.”
The instructions didn’t make a lick of sense to Jason, but Box Lunch dropped right out of the air and landed on her feet. Her eyes flew open, and she pinwheeled dramatically until Danny caught her.
“Ahh!” she squealed, looking dismayed. “I’m heavy!”
Danny chuckled. “No, bitty-bite, you’re still light as a feather.” He picked Box Lunch up and held her out in front of him, smiling. She squealed again, kicking her feet, her eyes bright with delight. “Good job. Do you think you can hold that?”
“Um, sure,” she mumbled, not looking at all sure.
The Box Ghost landed on the floor with a grunt - Jason suspected that he’d been listening to Danny’s instructions too. He held out his arms for Box Lunch, and Danny handed her over willingly.
“Now what?” the Box Ghost asked tentatively, staring at the floor like it would eat him. Yeah, Jason could definitely believe that he’d never landed before either.
“Now, you listen to me,” Danny said seriously. He reached out and grabbed Box Ghost’s arm, demanding his attention, and forced eye contact. From the Box Ghost’s wide eyes, this behavior was as new to him as it was to Jason. But then Danny continued, speaking as firmly as if he were willing his words into existence. “You are not a ghost. You are not a ghost.” Understanding flickered across the Box Ghost’s face, and he screwed his eyes shut. His glow started to dim. “You are solid. You are heavy. You are warm. You are made of flesh, blood, and bone. You are not a ghost. You are not a ghost. You are human.”
The Box Ghost’s glow receded and disappeared. Except for his blue skin, he almost looked human now. He opened his eyes uncertainly, and Danny gave him a weary smile and a nod, letting go of his arm and leaning back.
“But what about Box Lunch?” the Box Ghost asked anxiously, looking down at Box Lunch. She’d squeezed her eyes shut to try and follow Danny’s instructions, but didn’t seem to be meeting with the same success.
Danny sighed. “I’m not sure how to explain it to her,” he admitted, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he looked at the little girl with worry. She opened her eyes and gave him an anxious look, and Danny gave her a small smile. “It’s not your fault, bitty-bite. It’s just… you’ve always been a ghost, so you don’t have your dad’s memories of what it felt like to be human.”
Box Lunch stomped her feet. “I can pretend!”
“Then pretend,” Danny said seriously. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just do your best.”
“Wehh!” Box Lunch flailed her arms, brow furrowed in concentration. “I am human! My body is super solid and I crash into things a lot! And I run around on the ground and eat human food! Fear me!”
It was so cute that Jason muffled a laugh, and he wasn’t the only one. Box Lunch ran a circle around the floor, then crashed into a wall on purpose and bounced off, giggling. Even Bruce’s hard expression softened into a fond look.
“That should keep you off the sensors,” Danny said to the Box Ghost, voice low. Something about his eyes looked exhausted. “Just make sure Box Lunch maintains it. Maybe keep playing human with her.”
The Box Ghost nodded uncertainly. “Thank you, Phantom,” he said quietly. “I know that we can count on you.”
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rottenfyre · 1 day ago
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⸻ ᴀ ʟ ʟ ɪ ʜ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ⸻
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Pairing: Show Aegon II Targaryen x Fem Reader
Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?
˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @joekeerys. Hope you enjoy!
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Aegon never wanted the throne, never wanted the responsibilities that came with it, but what he does want is you. From the moment you entered his life, everything changed. You’re the one thing that makes sense to him, the one thing that feels right. Aegon is a mess of conflicting desires, plagued by his trauma, but when it comes to you, his love is the only thing he’s sure of.
Aegon has never had anyone in his life who genuinely cared about him. His family is fractured, and he’s spent his whole life drowning in self-loathing. But when you show him the slightest bit of affection, it’s like a drug. He needs it, needs you. You’re his lifeline, the one person who can make him feel like he’s worth something.
He’s incredibly clingy. Every time he sees you, he’s either hanging off of you, resting his head on your shoulder, or playing with your hair. It’s as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment. His hands are always on you, in a way that’s both affectionate and a little too possessive.
“I can’t stand it when you’re away,” he’d murmur, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay with me. Always stay with me.”
Aegon’s insecurities run deep, and that means he’s always on edge when it comes to other people. He’s constantly worried that someone will take you away from him, that you’ll realize you deserve better and leave him behind. His jealousy is all-consuming, and he has no problem making sure anyone who even looks at you the wrong way knows you belong to him.
If someone tries to get close to you, Aegon’s mood shifts instantly. His playful, drunken demeanor turns cold, his eyes narrowing as he watches every move they make around you. He doesn’t trust anyone—not your friends, not your family, and especially not his own family. In his mind, they’re all threats, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you to himself.
“No one will ever love you like I do,” he’d say, his voice low and serious. “You know that, don’t you?”
He needs to know everything about you—where you are, who you’re with, what you’re thinking. He’ll start off subtly, asking about your day, wanting to know every little detail. But soon, it becomes more than that. He wants to control every aspect of your life, making sure that you’re always with him, always safe, always his.
He’s the type to show up unannounced, drunk and demanding your attention, whether you want to give it or not. If you try to push him away, he’ll sulk, using his own pain and insecurities to guilt you into staying by his side. It’s manipulative, but in his twisted mind, he thinks he’s doing it out of love.
“You’re mine,” he’d whisper, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”
Aegon knows he’s not the perfect prince (and later king). He’s flawed, broken, and he hates himself for it. But when it comes to you, he’ll use that brokenness to his advantage. Whenever you try to pull away, he’ll remind you of how much he needs you, how lost he’d be without you. He’s not afraid to play the victim, to make you feel like leaving him would be the cruelest thing in the world.
He’ll come to you late at night, drunk and miserable, talking about how everyone hates him, how he’s not good enough for you. His words are filled with self-pity, and he’ll cling to you, practically begging you to reassure him that you’ll stay.
“You’re the only one who cares about me,” he’d say, his voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”
For all his selfishness, Aegon genuinely believes he’s protecting you. The world is dangerous, full of people who would hurt you or take you from him. In his mind, he’s the only one who can keep you safe. He’ll go to any lengths to ensure that no one can harm you—not even your family or friends if he thinks they’re a threat.
He’ll isolate you if he has to, keeping you away from anyone who might try to come between you. He’ll even use his power as king to keep you locked away, safe in the Red Keep where no one can touch you. To him, it’s an act of love—protecting you from the dangers of the world.
“I’m doing this for you,” he’d say, his eyes wild with a mix of desperation and affection. “No one will hurt you if you’re with me. I’ll burn anyone who tries.”
Aegon’s love for you is twisted, born out of his own pain and insecurities, but it’s real. In his mind, you’re the only thing keeping him together. He’s broken, damaged by years of neglect and abuse, and you’re the only one who makes him feel whole. He’ll do anything to keep you by his side, even if it means crossing lines no one else would dare to cross.
He’s the kind of lover who would rather see you dead than let you leave him. If he can’t have you, then no one can. His love is suffocating, dangerous, and all-consuming. But in the end, he truly believes that he’s doing it all because he loves you.
“You don’t understand,” he’d say, tears in his eyes as he holds you close. “You’re all I have. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”
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@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ
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seongwars · 2 days ago
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strangers by nature | i
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Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor & fluff in later chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.8K Warnings: angst no comfort, swearing, suggestive content, puppy!!!!
Fic Masterlist
a/n: here's the first part to the revamped mingi drabble series someone tell me to finish my other wips
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“Don’t fuck this up for me,” you hissed, slipping on your heels and casting a sharp look in his direction.
Mingi, lounging by the door with his tie half-done, didn’t even look up. He adjusted his cufflinks instead, his movements slow, deliberate, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You think I’m the one who’s going to mess this up?” he replied, his voice laced with mockery. 
“You’re lucky I’m even bothering to show up at all. God knows I could be elsewhere.”
“Did you forget that you sabotaged last year’s event when you showed up completely shitfaced?” 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you hissed, hoping no one would notice. Mingi just laughed, a bitter, mocking sound that rang louder than you’d intended to speak as you pulled him aside.
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he slurred, his words coming slow and thick, as if savoring each one. “But look at you, all dressed up like it matters.” 
His gaze raked over you, and for the first time, you felt small—like everything you’d done, everything you cared about, was nothing but a performance in his eyes.
Throughout the evening, he continued, unleashing a trail of subtle digs and outright insults, each one cutting deeper than the last. 
“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts,” he drawled. You felt the sting of the insult, a wave of humiliation creeping up as he smirked at your expression.
And as he went on, his words got uglier, accusations laced with venomous insinuations about your foundation, about the people you’d invited, about you. 
“You know what’s funny? This is all she has. She begged me to be here, begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”
It was the cruelty of it that made you flinch. He looked at you, pleased with himself, with that twisted smile that told you he had come tonight for one reason only: to break you down.
Mingi didn’t hate you. He didn’t even care enough to despise you. Hatred would have required him to feel something at all, but to Mingi, you were nothing more than an obligation, a piece of his life he had to endure when the occasion called for it. 
You had to exist in the same spaces as him, but only on his terms, only when he wanted to remind you how little you meant to him.
Mingi had taken so much from you already—had eroded every bit of independence and dignity you’d fought to hold onto. But the annual Gold Gala, hosted by your foundation, was different. It was one of the few things left that was still unmistakably yours.
The Cromer Foundation wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of teaching in, but it was something. It was your way of keeping that dream of becoming a music teacher alive. It was a way to support arts education, a way to pour hope and passion into the future. 
It was the only part of this new life you’d been forced into that felt like it had real purpose, the only place where you could still feel yourself making an impact, even if it meant facing Mingi’s ire every step of the way.
“I had to work my ass off,” you bit out, voice trembling with the strain of holding back everything you wanted to scream. 
“I had to clean up your mess to convince donors to continue supporting the foundation after you nearly destroyed it last time. This is the one thing I have left that actually matters to me.” 
The words were punctuated by the ache in your throat, your heart pounding as if it might burst from the sheer weight of your frustration.
“I’m not begging you to be there. I never asked for that. But I think we both know that neither of us wants to hear our families complaining about your belligerence, especially since I made concessions to let her be there.”
Your voice caught on the word, but you forced it out. He knew exactly who you meant—her, the woman he’d flaunted just enough to humiliate you but never enough for his family to call him out on it. 
Jeong Ahri. His first love, the girl who knew him before he became what he was now. She was also his best friend’s sister, the one woman who, even in her absence, always held a piece of him. Just the sound of her name was enough for him to lay his arms down. 
Mingi didn’t consider himself religious. He’d never felt the pull toward faith, despite his family’s insistence on portraying themselves as god-fearing, pious people. But the day his father announced that he was considering a merger, weighing options to secure their legacy through an alliance, Mingi prayed for the first time he could remember. 
But his father chose otherwise. Mingi hadn’t heard his father’s reasoning in detail—only the clipped statement that “it was decided” and that it would be you instead of Ahri. It wasn’t that she was lacking in education or accomplishments; her qualifications were impeccable. 
But you were different, his father had said. More refined. More…controlled.
Where Ahri was unpredictable, a free spirit with an uncontainable passion that Mingi had always adored, you were composed, you brought a stability that his father believed Ahri could never offer, and to him, that was paramount. It was a choice made for optics and security, the perfect union on paper, a marriage that would uphold the family’s reputation.
Now here he was, bound not to her, but to you—an arrangement forged by titles and alliances, with love considered an afterthought at best. This marriage wasn’t just a partnership but a meticulously crafted piece of his family’s foundation. 
And you—perhaps unwillingly, perhaps reluctantly—were the chosen piece in this carefully woven tapestry of alliances.
“How could I forget? We’re putting on a show, some picture-perfect life that everyone else could admire.” His gaze was sharp, unyielding. 
“Picture-perfect life?” You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. 
“Please. This is far from that. All I wanted was to make something meaningful out of this sham of a marriage, to salvage whatever was left of my life.”
“Meaningful?” he sneered, his eyes narrowing. 
"You think you're the only one making sacrifices?" he snapped, his voice low but venomous. 
"I lost any chance at a real life the moment I agreed to marry some pathetic charity case." The words dripped with contempt, his gaze locked onto yours as though daring you to react.
“Playing the victim as always,” you replied coldly, your gaze steady as you met Mingi’s glare. His jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark passing over his eyes, but you pressed on,  undeterred. 
"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”
That struck a nerve. Mingi’s expression twisted, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his armor. He scoffed, but there was no humor in it—just a bitter edge, sharp and unrestrained.
“You think I didn’t try? They didn’t care who I spent my time with as long as they got what they wanted—a merger, a legacy. So I went along with it. It wasn’t worth the battle when I already had Ahri.”
His words stung, sharper than you’d anticipated, cutting right through you. But as you stared at him, searching for any hint of regret, any flicker of hesitation, there was…nothing. Just the same cold, unfeeling expression that had worn down your patience over time.
“And here we are—both miserable because you took the easy way out,” you sighed. 
“All those sacrifices you keep talking about, all those things you supposedly gave up? They mean nothing if you can’t even own up to them. Including marrying the ‘charity case’ you despise so much.”
You saw his eyes harden, his shoulders tense, but you refused to back down, leaning into the truth you both knew but never spoke.
“You wanted a convenient life, and you got it. But don’t you dare try to make me the villain just because you couldn’t stand up to them—or to yourself.”
You held his gaze, a cold, bitter silence stretching between you. Without another word, you turned, steeling yourself for the night ahead, knowing that the only thing left between you was the hollow image of the life you failed to create.
Your wedding to Mingi was more of a business transaction than a celebration. The ceremony took place in an office that bore more resemblance to a boardroom than a place for vows. 
The only witnesses were your parents, your cousins Jongho and San, and Mingi’s best friend, Yunho. All were seated with neutral expressions, gazes locked on the officiant as if marking the completion of a financial report.
You barely remembered the words exchanged. There was no music, no flowers—just the murmured vows, the scratch of a pen signing your names, and the cold weight of a ring slipped onto your finger by a man who didn’t even meet your eyes. 
When it was over, the officiant closed the book with a finality that made your stomach drop—a reminder that there was no turning back now. Your parents offered restrained congratulations, their smiles polite but empty. 
Only your cousins seemed to look at you with genuine sympathy, understanding the weight of what you’d just committed to. Mingi’s mother, on the other hand, wore a sharp, proud smile, one devoid of joy but full of satisfaction. To her, this wasn’t a marriage; it was a completed transaction.
Following the ceremony, a small reception was held in the upstairs lounge. Glasses were raised, and toasts were made to "a prosperous future," though they felt painfully empty. 
Mingi barely spoke to you, instead engaging in brief, clipped conversations with his father and yours about the two families’ businesses and the outlook for the next quarter.
You sat in silence, barely tasting the champagne in your glass, as you watched the people around you discuss the "success" of this union. You wanted to scream, to tell them this wasn’t a union, just an arrangement—a legal binding that had stripped you of any choice you once had.
The room felt cold, and as you glanced at the man who was now your husband, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something lonely.
You had spent years nurturing a different dream—one that had nothing to do with boardrooms or mergers. You had wanted to teach music, to live a quiet, meaningful life, far from the shadows of your family’s empire. 
Drawn to the idea of leaving it all behind, you envisioned moving abroad to pass on your love for music to young, eager minds. The plan was simple: save enough, book a one-way ticket, and disappear into the life you wanted. 
But when you told your family about your plans, their reactions left you stunned. They couldn't see a future for you as a teacher—not when you were the heir to the Choi Group, not when your last name carried so much weight. 
You fought them on it, desperate to hold onto the life you wanted. Shouting matches stretched late into the night, but when arguments proved fruitless, desperation drove you to action. 
Just as you reached the final hurdle, minutes away from your flight, the authorities stopped you. Your heart dropped as you realized just how deep your parents' control ran—how their reach extended even across oceans you hadn't yet crossed.
By the time you both left the reception, it was clear there would be no honeymoon, no illusion of a romantic escape. Mingi went to his own car without a word, and you followed in your own to the penthouse, wondering how a marriage could feel like a prison on the very first day.
Crystal chandeliers cast their glow across the gala hall, the soft hum of conversation mingling with the gentle clink of champagne flutes. This event was one of the few things you could call your own—a charitable foundation you’d helped establish to support arts education. It wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of, but it was something—a way to keep that dream alive, even in the world you’d been forced into. 
You moved among the guests, offering a polished smile and gracious words about the foundation’s mission, with Mingi at your side, his arm draped around your waist as you made the rounds together.
To the crowd, you looked like the perfect couple—a united front. But you felt the coldness between you, the way Mingi’s hand barely touched your waist, how his gaze slid away from yours the moment anyone’s attention drifted.
The evening was moving along smoothly until you noticed her—the woman standing near the bar, her eyes fixed on Mingi. Dressed in a red gown, she radiated confidence, her gaze unflinching as she watched him. She was the shadow that trailed him, the one he turned to whenever he could no longer bear the weight of pretending with you.
Beside you, Mingi’s posture tensed almost imperceptibly, his hand lingering at the small of your back. He noticed her too, of course; he’d be a fool not to. Yet his grip on you remained firm, as if bound by an invisible script dictating the image you two were expected to maintain. Nothing amiss, nothing unseemly, as though the weight of her presence hadn’t shaken him at all.
To anyone who looked closely, the story between them was clear: her gaze was steady, defiant even, a silent reminder that she held a part of him you would never touch.
This was meant to be your night—the one place to grieve the shattered pieces of your own dreams, had you succeeded in escaping the clutches of this arrangement. 
But as you held yourself in place, the warmth of Mingi’s hand was nothing but a reminder that even when he stood at your side, his heart was somewhere else entirely.
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You returned to the penthouse alone, the buzz of the gala still ringing in your ears, though the evening itself felt hollow and cold now that you were by yourself. The laughter and polite applause, the countless exchanges of small talk and polished smiles—none of it seemed to matter. 
Mingi had left your side almost as soon as the event began winding down, disappearing into the night with the excuse of business matters to attend to. You didn’t need to ask; you already knew where he was headed and with whom.
You weren’t bothered by Mingi’s connection to Ahri. Sure, he brought her to the penthouse on your wedding night, but you understood that their story existed long before you ever came into the picture—a chapter of his life that, despite the complexities, didn’t take away from your own sense of self-worth or purpose in this arrangement.
The memory of that night still lingered. You had walked into the penthouse to find Ahri there, her laughter filling the space as she sat comfortably on the sofa, a glass of wine in hand. 
Mingi was by her side, his arm draped casually around her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns along her thigh. A soft smile played on his lips—a smile you didn’t know he was capable of, one that felt like a taunt.
And when you retired to your room, the primal sounds from the both of them escaped through the confines of Mingi’s bedroom. 
“Shit, just like that, right there, Mingi!”
“Fuuuuck, takin’ me so well.”
You knew they were both trying to hurt you, flaunting how intimate their relationship was in front of you, as if to remind you of your place. Their calculated cruelty seeped into your consciousness like poison, amplifying your insecurities and sowing seeds of self-doubt. 
Every laugh, every touch between them was a dagger to your heart, a reminder of the love and warmth you were denied. The pain was a constant, gnawing ache, leaving you feeling more alone and unworthy with each passing moment.
You had hoped, at the very least, that Mingi might see you as more than an obligation—perhaps even as an ally. Instead, you were nothing more than a prop in his life, a fixture he resented. If only he’d see you for who you really were—not the enemy in this tangled web, but someone who could make this shared fate a little less lonely.
You kicked off your heels, draped your coat over the back of the sofa, and sank down, staring out at the glittering city lights beyond the penthouse windows. Loneliness settled over you as you replayed the night’s events. 
Your gaze drifted to the piano in the corner. For a moment, you could almost see him there—Hongjoong, with his fingers drifting effortlessly over the keys as he coaxed a melody from the instrument. 
He had been the son of your piano teacher, your best friend, and your first love. You remembered the way he’d listened to your dreams, encouraging you to reach higher, even when you could see the exhaustion creeping into his features, the shadow of his terminal illness never far behind. 
“Would you still believe in me now?” you murmured to the empty room, the silence thickening with the question. You knew what Hongjoong would say. 
“Fuck it, sell your shares and leave. Start over. Eat the rich.”
He had shown you what passion looked like, not only for music but for life itself, even as he faced an uncertain future. He had given you strength and taught you resilience. The long afternoons spent together, his hands guiding yours over the piano keys, had been a sanctuary from the expectations and pressures of your family.
The silence in the room seemed to shift, becoming less oppressive, more contemplative. You could almost hear Hongjoong's voice, softer now, more encouraging. 
"You've got this," he would say. "Just take the first step."
You closed your eyes. Tomorrow would come with its demands and pretenses, but for now, you surrendered to the silence, letting it carry you into a sleep that softened the loneliness—if only for a little while.
Ahri’s laughter filled the confined space of the car, soft and unrestrained as she collapsed against Mingi’s chest, her fingers drawing idle patterns along his jawline. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, a playful daring that stirred something in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“Your wife looked like she wanted to kill me,” Ahri giggled. She knew exactly what she was to him—a temptation, a release, a break from the predictability of his life.
Mingi only smirked, his large hands cupping the curve of her ass with ease as he let out a low chuckle, brushing his thumb along her skin as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
“I would’ve stopped her,” he murmured, the words casual, devoid of any true weight.
Ahri tilted her head, her eyes searching his face, a smile curling at her lips. She could read the lack of hesitation in his expression, the cold confidence of a man who knew he was untouchable, who knew he had nothing to lose by being here with her. 
“You’d really do that for me?” she asked, her voice soft and playful, but she knew the answer. 
They both did. She didn’t need him to reassure her, didn’t need promises or apologies—she was here because she understood exactly who he was, what he wanted, and how little he cared about the impact it had on anyone else.
“Of course,” he said simply, brushing his lips against her neck with an easy familiarity. His smirk grew as he pulled her closer, rutting up against her with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
The idea of hurting you wasn’t something he dwelled on; it was merely collateral, an afterthought in a life where his own desires came first. 
To him, this wasn’t betrayal—it was freedom. Being with Ahri wasn’t about guilt or regret. It was about the thrill of defiance, the joy of stepping beyond the lines and indulging in the part of himself he’d never fully let go. 
“Let’s get out of here,” Mingi suggested, his voice low, laced with an eagerness that hinted at the thrill of escaping somewhere no one could find them.
The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between them as Mingi guided the car along the winding roads leading out of the city. The quiet hum of the engine settled between them, and Mingi’s grip on the wheel tightened as he let the night swallow them whole.
His gaze flickered to Ahri, watching the way she leaned back, eyes half-closed, utterly carefree. She was always like this with him—at ease, undemanding, dangerous in all the ways that made him forget everything else. With her, he could let go of every responsibility, every burden weighing him down. 
The soft, velvety vocals of jazz singer Kim Taehyung drifted through the radio, wrapping around the pair in a warm embrace. For a fleeting second, Mingi allowed himself to sink into the fantasy. Here, with her beside him, the world outside felt like a distant dream, nothing more than whispers beyond the car windows.
But dreams eventually come to an end. 
Out of nowhere, a pair of blinding headlights burst through the night, a harsh, unforgiving brightness that tore through the calm. Mingi’s eyes widened, but the oncoming vehicle was so close, so sudden, that there was barely a second to react. His hands jerked on the wheel, trying to swerve, but the road was narrow, and there was nowhere to go.
In an instant, everything blurred into chaos. The impact hit them head-on, a deafening crunch of metal against metal, a violent jolt that rattled through the car as it skidded off the road. Mingi’s head slammed back against the seat, his vision blurring as the car spun, skidding to a brutal stop against the guardrail. The world seemed to fall silent in the aftermath, a surreal quiet settling over them.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint wail of sirens approaching, growing louder with every passing second. As the darkness closed in, Mingi felt the weight of it all—the choices he’d made, the life he’d led, and the person waiting for him at home—weighing down on him, filling him with a regret he could no longer ignore.
It was after midnight when the phone rang, the sudden sound breaking the uneasy stillness of the penthouse. In your sleepy stupor, you hesitated for a moment before reaching for it, your heart pounding in your chest. A vague sense of dread built as you picked up the receiver upon seeing your mother-in-law’s contact photo.
“Y/N! Oh, thank goodness! Mingi—he’s in the hospital! He was in a terrible accident and is in critical condition. Your father-in-law and I are on our way now!”
Mingi. Critical condition. Hospital. The world seemed to tilt on its side, and you felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you struggling to breathe.
“Wh-what happened?” you stammered, barely able to get the words out as you clutched the phone, your knuckles white. “How… how bad is it?”
“It’s bad. They… they’re not sure if he’ll make it through the night.”
In that instant, any resentment or past grievances faded into the background. You couldn’t deny the strange ache settling in your chest as you thought of Mingi lying in that hospital bed, perhaps alone, facing something he could not fight or push away.
You didn’t remember much of the drive to the hospital. The city lights blurred past you as you sped through the streets, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out every other thought. All you could focus on was getting to him.
When you finally reached the emergency wing, the harsh, fluorescent lights made you feel even more out of place. You spotted his family first—his mother and father huddled together on the worn hospital chairs. 
Mrs. Song was barely holding it together, face streaked with tears as she leaned against her husband, clutching his hand so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs that she tried to stifle, but each gasp tore through the silence, raw and full of anguish.
It was odd, seeing her show so much emotion for her son when, for so many years, her presence in his life had been so distant. There was no trace of the stoic woman who had always seemed to keep the world at arm's length. Here in the unforgiving lights of the hospital, she looked like any mother, grieving, terrified of losing her son.
Your own parents were there too, solemn and tense as they stood a little to the side, offering whatever silent support they could. 
When your mother noticed you, her gaze softened, and she reached out, wrapping you in a brief, tight hug. Yet even in her embrace, there was a certain restraint, like she wasn’t sure how to give more, wasn’t sure how to bridge the space between you in a way that felt natural. 
But then you turned, and that’s when you saw him.
Through the window of the ICU room, Mingi lay on the hospital bed, looking nothing like the man you knew. He was pale, his face bruised and battered, his body still and weak beneath the sheets. Tubes and wires connected him to a series of machines, each beeping and whirring to keep him alive, monitoring his vitals after hours of surgery to stop the relentless bleeding.
It was a jarring sight, seeing someone usually so full of life, even if that life had often been directed at you in anger. Now he seemed so small, vulnerable, a shadow of the man who had once looked at you with such disdain. 
Despite all the bitterness, you couldn’t deny the weight settling heavily in your chest as you found yourself wishing he would open his eyes, even if it meant another one of his sharp, dismissive looks.
“H-Hey.” 
You whipped around to find Yunho. His shoulders were slouched, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes, and worry etched into his expression. He offered you a small, tired smile, a weak attempt at reassurance that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hi,” you murmured, tearing your eyes away from Mingi. 
The silence between you and Yunho was thick with unspoken concerns, a tension that felt almost palpable.
“I know things between you two have never been easy,” Yunho murmured, his voice low and hesitant. He avoided your gaze, eyes lingering on Mingi through the glass. His tone was careful, a mix of sympathy and regret. 
“I’m sorry that he’s been awful to you. My sister, too.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned. For so long, the hostility from both Mingi and Ahri had been an almost constant presence in your life, a simmering resentment that had shaped almost every single facet of your relationship with your husband.
But hearing Yunho acknowledge it so openly was…strange. Disarming, even. You weren’t used to someone seeing it, let alone speaking about it without any pretense or defensiveness. In his soft, understanding tone, you could sense not just sympathy, but regret.
“How’s Ahri?” you finally asked. 
“She’s pretty banged up,” he replied, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion evident. 
“But doctors say she’s expected to leave here in a few days. Nothing too serious, thankfully.” He hesitated, his eyes drifting back to Mingi. 
“But Mingi is still pretty touch-and-go.”
You could hear it in Yunho’s voice—the worry, the fear that his best friend might not make it. It was a stark reminder of just how fragile life was, how quickly things could change in the span of a heartbeat.
“He’s got so much fight in him,” you acknowledged softly, as if you were trying to convince yourself.
“If anyone can pull through this, it’s him. He just… he has to.”
Mingi’s presence, for all the ways it had complicated your life, was something you weren’t ready to lose. The ache in your chest betrayed the truth: you wanted him to fight, to come back, to have the chance to be more than the sum of his anger and bitterness.
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“Hey! Can you hear me?” A voice cut through the silence, clear and sharp. 
Mingi’s eyes fluttered open to an otherworldly darkness, pierced only by the eerie glow of dim, floating lanterns. He felt weightless, almost translucent, his last memory fragmented—the screech of tires, the blinding headlights, the sound of metal twisting. He tried to move, but his limbs felt disconnected from him, as if he were less a person and more a shadow drifting in an endless void.
“Where… where am I?” he whispered, his voice echoing through the vast emptiness.
A figure emerged from the darkness, wearing a calm, almost unsettling smile. Dressed in flowing black robes, the man stood before him, his gaze sharp and cat-like.
“My courtroom,” the man replied, his voice smooth but cold. “People know me as The Judge, but you can call me Wooyoung.” 
His eyes gleamed as he looked down at Mingi, as if he could see every mistake, every regret, every flaw carved into his very soul.
“I’m…I’m dead?”
Wooyoung tilted his head, his gaze unwavering, assessing Mingi as if he were little more than a curious object. 
“Not necessarily,” he replied, a slight, detached smile curving his lips. 
“At least, not until you plead your case.”
A chill ran through Mingi, spreading from the base of his spine up to his shoulders. He was no longer in the realm of the living, yet neither was he truly dead. This wasn’t a dream, nor was it a fleeting punishment. 
This was judgment.
“It seems you have unfinished business,” Wooyoung continued, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather. 
“Regrets. Mistakes. Wrongdoings that tether you to the life you left behind. And now, you will face them.”
“W-What…” Mingi stammered, struggling to find words, every attempt at forming a coherent thought falling apart under the man’s unrelenting stare. 
“What… unfinished business?”
Wooyoung’s expression twisted, a mix of disbelief and disdain crossing his face as he raised a brow. 
“Really?” he said, his tone heavy with incredulity. He let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head as if Mingi’s question had been the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in centuries. 
Wooyoung’s eyes gleamed as he summoned a scroll into his hand, the parchment unfurling with a dramatic flourish and rolling all the way down to the ground. An endless list of Mingi’s transgressions and misdeeds spilled forth, each offense scrawled in elaborate detail, stretching on as if it would never end.
“Selfish. Petulant. You’re the kind of person who only considers what you want, regardless of who gets hurt.” His voice grew sharper, each word landing like a blow. 
“You cheated on your wife without a second thought, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience in your life. And let’s not forget—” he tilted his head, a dark gleam in his eyes, “bullying other kids in middle school.”
Mingi felt the words hit him like a punch to the gut, dredging up memories he had buried long ago, things he’d justified or ignored. He shifted uncomfortably, every accusation pulling him deeper into his own shame.
“That… that was so long ago,” he whispered, barely audible. “I was a kid. I didn’t know any better.”
“Ah, so ignorance is your excuse?” Wooyoung’s tone was icy, unimpressed. 
Mingi swallowed, his mind flashing through a thousand faces, fragments of past encounters that blurred together but still left an unsettling weight in his chest. All the people he’d dismissed, manipulated, pushed aside. The friends he’d neglected, the promises he’d broken, and, above all, the way he had carelessly stomped on the one person who had also been innocent in this situation–you. 
“So how do I fix it? I—I don’t want to die. Please,” he choked, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at the man with pleading eyes. 
Wooyoung’s gaze didn’t soften, but there was a pause—a brief, quiet stillness that felt like a moment of reckoning. He tilted his head, studying Mingi as if weighing the depths of his fear, his regret, his desperation.
"Is that it, then? Now that you’re here, now that death is staring you in the face, now you want redemption? Not when you had the power to make different choices, not when the people who cared about you needed you to be better?”
Mingi swallowed hard, feeling the weight of each accusation sink into him. He could barely meet the man’s gaze, shame twisting in his stomach. 
“I made mistakes. I didn’t think…I thought I’d always have time to change, to make things right. But I can’t…I can’t end like this.” His voice broke, and he felt the desperation bubbling up, raw and unfiltered. 
“I’m begging you. Give me a chance. I’ll do anything.”
Wooyoung watched him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he took a step closer, his dark robes fluttering against the ground.
“Anything?”
“Anything,” Mingi whispered. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
Wooyoung’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “If you want to escape this fate, then you’ll have to complete three tasks within three months.”
Mingi’s heart pounded in his chest, but he nodded, his eyes shining with desperate determination. 
“I’ll do it. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Good.” 
With a single snap, Mingi felt his body contort, an overwhelming, suffocating pressure enveloping him. His form began to shrink and his vision blurred. A high-pitched yelp escaped his throat as he realized he was no longer human. 
He was small, helpless, wrapped in fur with tiny paws trembling beneath him. He had been transformed into a puppy, looking up at the man from the ground, his new form shivering in fear and confusion.
“You’re much cuter when you’re not hurling insults at people and lying through your teeth,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching out to poke Mingi’s snout. 
Indignation boiled in Mingi’s tiny chest, but he was powerless to do anything but stand there, his fur puffed out as he tried to look fierce while Wooyoung continued to pet him.
“First,” Wooyoung began, “you’re going to learn what it means to be vulnerable. Focus on letting go of control completely, and start with small acts. ” 
“For your second task,” he continued, “you’re going to help someone who’s hurt or lost. You have to figure out how to comfort them. You’ll need to offer genuine support, not just do what’s easiest for you.”
Mingi whimpered, his tiny body shivering, but Wooyoung didn’t give him a chance to protest.
“And finally,” Wooyoung said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “you’ll help someone find happiness. You’re going to show them kindness and bring them joy, with no expectation of getting anything in return. For someone as self-centered as you, that’ll be your most difficult challenge of all.”
With that, Wooyoung straightened, a mischievous glint in his eye. 
“Simple enough for you, little guy?” he chuckled, scratching behind Mingi’s soft, floppy ear. 
“Complete these tasks, and you can have your life back. It’s not so hard, right?”
Mingi looked up, wide-eyed and uncertain in his new, pint-sized form. The world felt so large and overwhelming now, every shadow looming like a mountain, every distant sound magnified. His tiny paws shuffled nervously, a soft whimper escaping him.
“But, hey, if you can’t handle it and end up staying here, at least you’ll be the cutest little thing in the afterlife. You’re so small, I could just carry you around in my pocket!”
Mingi huffed, his tail puffing up in what he hoped was indignation. The thought was absurd! He couldn't decide whether to feel insulted or embarrassed, but Wooyoung’s warm smile and the affectionate scritch behind his ear made it hard to stay mad.
You sighed and sat down on a bench, the quiet stillness of the early morning hours settling around you. Mingi’s mother hadn’t let you leave, insisting that you stay for any updates on his condition. It was easier to wait outside, where the air felt fresher and the weight of worry wasn’t as suffocating.
Two years. Had it really been two years? You leaned back against the bench, staring up at the faint dawn light peeking through the trees. You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. Mingi’s bitterness had been a slow, creeping poison. He blamed you for the engagement, even though it was hardly your choice, and his resentment seeped into every corner of your life.
Every conversation was strained, every look filled with contempt, and yet here you were, waiting outside a hospital, a dutiful spouse in name alone. 
The weight of your commitment felt heavier now that he was teetering on the edge of life and death. The responsibilities and promises you had made to each other took on a new, almost suffocating significance. It wasn't just about keeping up appearances anymore—it was about being there, truly being there, when it mattered most.
You sighed, the sound mingling with the faint rustling from the bushes nearby, pulling you momentarily from your reverie.
From the corner of your eye, a small white puppy emerged, its fur dirty and matted with leaves. The tiny creature padded forward, nose twitching as it sniffed the air and hesitated as it spotted you. Something about its curiosity struck a chord in you, melting the heaviness in your chest just a little.
“Puppy!” you gasped, crouching down and holding out your hand. 
Mingi’s ears perked up at your voice, and he took a tentative step forward. 
You appeared more exhausted than usual, the shadows under your eyes more pronounced, and a weariness etched into your features that he hadn't noticed previously. There was a fragility about you that tugged at something deep within him, a vulnerability you rarely allowed to show.
But the way you whispered, with that soft, delighted tone and the way your face lit up when you saw him—it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
Without thinking, his little tail started wagging, betraying him completely. He could feel his new puppy body responding instinctively, unable to stop the joyful swishing, even though part of him knew how ridiculous he must look.
“Why are you by yourself?” you asked, wiggling your fingers in front of him. 
Mingi watched, trying to resist the urge to play, but then—damn it—he couldn’t help himself. Before he knew it, he’d pounced forward, his tiny paws reaching for your hand, teeth closing softly around your fingers in a playful nibble.
No, stop it, Mingi! He cursed, attempting to restrain himself from giving into his instincts. But he couldn’t. The look on your face, the warmth in your eyes, was worth the humiliation of his tiny, floppy form and the impulse to play like he actually enjoyed it.
He flopped onto his back, revealing his soft, fluffy belly, earning an immediate squeal of joy. The sight of his tiny paws tucked adorably close to his chest and his big puppy eyes was simply too much.
The sheer cuteness of the puppy version of him was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but scratch his belly. His hind leg kicked instinctively, a sign of his enjoyment.
Mingi let out a soft, high-pitched whimper, as you scooped him into your arms. This is…nice? And when your hand ran gently down his back, he melted further, his tiny body going limp as he nuzzled into your chest. His heart thrummed with a fluttering feeling he didn’t recognize. 
Why does this actually feel good? 
You didn’t have that look of quiet disappointment that had seemed to settle on your face since the day you both said, “I do.”
You just looked…happy.
For the first time, Mingi realized how little he’d truly known you. It hurt to realize that a tiny puppy—his current form—could make you feel more affection than he ever had when he was human. He hadn’t given you any reason to smile at him like this; he hadn’t even tried.
“I guess the universe is exchanging my husband for you, huh?” you mumbled, stroking his tiny head with your thumb.
Mingi bristled internally. How rude! He was irreplaceable. You couldn’t simply replace him with a puppy!
You stood up, carefully bundling him against your chest to shield him from the chill of dawn. 
He wondered if he would ever feel this again once he returned to his original self, or if he would only carry the ache of what he could have had—if he’d been a different person, if he’d ever let you in.
ii >>
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a/n: I have a taglist signup to keep things organized! feel free to fill it out for any fics that I'm currently working on! also this first chapter will be the longest and future chapters will be shorter
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alwaysthefool · 1 day ago
Text
But She’s Not You (x Zayne)
Technically part 2 to Opposite (linked) but you can read it stand alone too.
Warnings: insecurity
Tags: Angst to comfort, f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader
Synopsis: After you saw him with someone else and misunderstood, Zayne lets you know you’re the only one for him.
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Sulking at the waiting room couldn’t get past Yvonne’s sharp eyes. It had been a week since you’d come to the hospital. You didn’t pick up Zayne’s calls after you ‘ended things’, and him, being the gentleman that he was, did not push it. He was probably busy again, and now he had someone else to keep him company. Unfortunately for you, you had a weird and constant chest pain that was getting hard to ignore. You begged the receptionist to get you any other cardiologist than Zayne, which meant you had to wait, because Zayne would never make you wait when it came to your heart.
“What’s wrong?” She took a seat beside you at the metal chairs. “Trouble with the doc?”
You sighed, your head down, grateful she was here. “I saw him with another girl. Laughing, with another girl.”
“Dr. Zayne laughs?” Grayson slumped down on the other side of you. That just made you feel worse. Right, he was usually stoic, but who wouldn’t laugh when someone like her was making a joke?
Yvonne pinched Grayson, as if begging him to read the room.
“Well, he’s doing terribly.” Grayson spoke immediately. “I don’t think he took a break this entire week. Jo almost has to force him to take a break at times.”
Tears filled your eyes immediately and you hated that it wasn’t because you were concerned about him, but rather that he had another girl who’d remind him to take breaks, to eat sweets, to smile every now and then. It was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you.
“Dr. Grayson.” Yvonne warned, gesturing to you. “Don’t you have a surgery to get to?”
Grayson took the cue noticing your silent crying, pretending he was paged for something important, running away.
“There’s really nothing going on between them.” Yvonne tried to help you, patting your back. “There’s been new discoveries on Protocore syndrome treatments, and Jo is from the institute that made the discovery.”
You tried to stop the tears. Right, it couldn’t be helped. “It’s just… hard to be with someone like him.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “Someone who’s always going to be wanted by people who are more than me. I’ll make one mistake, and he can find another girl who’s better than me in every way, and will never make any. I don’t want to spend my life thinking I have to compete.”
“Ms. [Name].” Zayne’s voice spoke from above you, sending your already struggling heart into a frenzy. “Please see me in my room immediately.”
You looked up to see him walk away, into his office, the nurse beside him, apologising to you. “I tried to hide it from him, but he was furious when I didn’t tell him you were here.” She whispered. You told her it was okay, silently following him. He held the door to his office open for you, closing it behind him once the two of you were in.
“You might be mad at me, but did you really have to try and change doctors?”
“I didn’t want to waste your time.”
“Nonsense.” He looked back at you with furious eyes. His hair was a mess, he’d definitely not had enough sleep, and you could see a bit of stubble on his jaw. No matter what happened, Zayne would put effort into his appearance, but you’d never seen him like that before.
You wanted to say something, ask him if he was alright, but you could only take your place on the couch in his office.
“How long have you been experiencing this?” He asked sternly, still standing, looking at your chart.
“A week.”
He shot you an exasperated look. “A week? And you’re only coming here now?”
I didn’t want to face you. You wanted to confess, but you settled with “I thought it’d go away by itself.”
Zayne tried to calm himself down, placing the chart on the table, sitting down on his desk with his head in his hands. You didn’t have control over yourself as your legs walked over to him. Even if he liked someone else, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t help but reach for him, your hand lightly resting on his back.
“Zayne?”
“Can I hold you?” His voice was broken, pleading. You let out a soft ‘yes’, and he immediately pulled you into his lip, hugging you tightly.
Was Zayne… crying?
“You’re here.” He whispered, resting his face against your neck, nuzzling into it, tightening his protective hold. Even if you couldn’t hear it well, you felt his wet eyes. He still smelled of coffee and mint. “Please don’t leave me again. I thought I messed up for good. Please give me another chance.”
“I overreacted.” You put your hands in his hair, and he kissed your neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” He pulled away, holding you firmly on his lap with his large hands on your waist. “I didn’t understand how it must’ve looked to you. I’m away all the time, I don’t make time for you, but if it’s not you…” He looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s no one.”
Your heart felt less heavy, the pain easing into relief. You took a deep breath, but it still hurt your chest a little.
“And I’m sorry for what I said.“ He continued.
You teared up again. “Yeah, you should be. You have no idea how I felt.”
“I’ll win you back, if you’re not yet convinced.” He kissed you on your cheek, taking a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe away your tears. “Tell me, what do you want? I’ll give you anything.”
“What I came for. A diagnosis for my heart.” You smiled.
Zayne turned red, clearing his throat, helping you off his lap but not letting go of your hand. “Of course. I need you to come with me to get some tests done.” He used his free hand to look at his notes on the chart.
“And after that, you’re coming home with me so I can make it all up to you.”
—x—
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northwest-cryptid · 3 days ago
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With the amount of notes this has I'm sure someone has already explained something like this but probably in a much better way than I can. However I'll try to explain it as best I can. I want to emphasize here that this information is based on conversations and discussions that I have had, with people who openly refer to themselves as Right Wingers (or who were previously Right Wingers) on forums and websites. While I am a Leftist and can't speak to how the Right operates from personal experience, I can speak as someone who has spoke to individuals who do know from personal experience.
The general gist is that the thing you need to keep in mind is that, so many of us on the Left have an understanding of what the problem really is. We get that the problem isn't that someone happens to be a man because of how they were born of because of their gender identity. However as someone with far less (if any) understanding of those societal issues they do not. They see the Left as saying "men are inherently bad." It gives them no recourse to not be a problem, they may not even actively be part of the problem yet but they don't know that the problem is larger than "you're a man, and I don't like that."
Meanwhile that meanspo you speak of, gives them direction. It gives them a direct out from being a person who is looked down on; and promises them that if they can just do these things on a checklist, they'll be respected, they'll live a good life; they'll be an "Alpha" or whatever. It's an easy decision when you feel like one side is telling you not to be what you are, because what you are is somehow inherently a problem; and they (the loud majority) hate you too much to explain how. While the other side is saying you're just not as good of a man as you should be, you're just a beta male because you don't do X, Y, Z.
As someone who is a Leftist who spends a lot more time than I probably should; actually talking to Right Wingers online. This is literally something people have told/asked me outright.
"Do you expect anyone in their right mind, to side with people who say they're wrong for just being a man; when the other side would offer them a ladder to be on top?"
If you notice, this statement neglects the actual problems, it summarizes the issue down to "you're wrong for just being a man." Which isn't what many of us are saying at all, but is what the Right, and individuals who would be converted to it; are hearing.
You are correct in saying it's objectively worse, in that yes; the Right are horrible people. They thrive on treating others on their side poorly to stay "above" them. However they always hold the promise over others that if you make enough money, if you work out, if you have enough sex; then you can also be on the top. The top doesn't seem that great when the bottom is comfortable enough. They have to ensure you feel like garbage but make sure you also have a clear understanding that it's only because you're not doing enough to climb the ladder.
Leftists don't really offer any similar ladder. Our issues with sexism, inequality, the patriarchy as a whole; etc. are a lot harder to break down. Not to mention that a good man isn't really given any reprieve from these problems, he's simply aware of them. A good man, no matter how good; can't just end racism or sexism himself. We don't do a lot to actually give men a proper course of action, we don't give them an easy to follow guide on how to be a good man by just doing quantifiable things, it's not that simple. We just tell them they're bad because the culture they grow up in is predisposed to turn young men into sexist, racist, bigots.
Obviously we're not all actually just saying "men are bad, fuck men; fuck you if you are a man." Some of us, I'd argue a lot of us, are actually trying to educate people as to the wider issues around "being a man" so to speak. I think that's sort of what leads to this question of "how could anyone in their right mind willingly side with the Right?" It's really no different than how cults recruit depressed and desperate people. The Right isn't watching for people to sort of react poorly once to a Leftist and then immediately jump in like "hey kid come join the Right!" It's more that they prey on dejected men who don't feel like they have direction. The Right gives them direction, it's awful; but it's something quantifiable. Last week they were a "beta male" this week they're going to the gym, they're talking to women; they're applying to jobs that pay more or whatever. Because some "Alpha male" made a video, blog post, podcast; etc. that told them that these things will make them successful, get them out of the rut they're in; and fix their problems.
It's a problem that can't be simplified down to a singular answer unfortunately, it's obviously much larger than that. This isn't meant to be a catch all "I've solve the grand mystery of why people are bigots!" Rather I'm just trying to offer some insight into one such potential cause.
the idea that reactionary spaces are attractive to men because they treat them kindly unlike The Left is so odd because whenever I come across that content it's essentially the same dynamic as pro ana "meanspo". if you don't know what that is, it's "motivation" based on degrading the viewer to the point where they can't "make excuses" and not become anorexic, or in this case a true Alpha Male. I feel like thisis objectively worse for someone's mental health than The Left
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