#but nothing can stop him when he’s determined

[kikidoul]

── GAME OF PATIENCE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established relationship non-idol au college/university au ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used mean dom! jungwon cock sucking brief and discussed somnophilia reader trying to seduce jungwon twice HEH rough sex degrading kink crying pussy eating fingering begging squirting lmk if i miss anything else . . .!? 2417 — mlist. req

note. and with this, the next few works will be heeseung.... taglist. @tfwbluu

The first time it happened was in the morning. It started when you woke up without your alarm going off, much to your happiness. Having pulled countless all-nighters to study for your examinations for the past few weeks means you deserved a much-needed uninterrupted sleep. You turned, the sheets softly rustling and you were granted the sight of your boyfriend sleeping peacefully, unaware of your dilemma. You clenched your thighs when your mind wandered to the wet dream you had, about how Jungwon had you bent over the nearest surface, ruthlessly pounding into you. 

You had discussed this with him before. This refers to waking him up in a different way. Which was why you stealthily crawled towards him, resting yourself between his parted legs. Thankfully, Jungwon doesn’t sleep with pants on, only wearing his boxers—meaning there was one less article of clothing to remove. You pulled it down, mouth watering at the sight of his soft cock—something you were determined to change. 

Leaning in while tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, you gave kitten licks to the tip, eyes focused on his face. He squirmed, cutely scrunching his nose but didn’t wake up. Now motivated, you took him in your mouth, moving forward until you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat. Your free hand moves to fondle with his balls as you begin bobbing your head. 

“Ngh, wh-what,” he stirred to live, looking down at you with half-opened eyes, only to sigh in pleasure, tossing his head as you traced the veins protruding from the side of his cock.

“Baby—hah, st-stop,” he protested, and you released his cock, worried that you had done something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing, I’m just too tired for this. Maybe later,” he mumbled, gesturing for you to come up. 

You sighed, disappointed but nodded in understanding. Just like you, Jungwon had pulled lots of all-nighters to get through his examinations and as much as you were tempted to get railed into oblivion, you wanted your boyfriend to get as much rest as he could. You pulled his boxers back up, crawling into his awaiting arms and rested your head on his chest. 

“Although, can’t say I was expecting that,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. 

~ 

The second time it happened was when Jungwon was making instant noodles for the both of you. You entered the kitchen, dressed in one of his oversized shirts that reaches your upper thighs. You didn’t bother wearing any shorts, leaving you prancing around your home with your panties showing, if you were to bend over. You wrapped your arms around his slender waist, resting your chin on his left shoulder. 

“Wonie, can we fuck?” You asked, the bluntness of your question startled him, nearly making him drop the chopsticks he was holding.

“N-now?” He stuttered, glancing at you while he continued to stir the noodles. 

You whined, burying your face in the crook of his neck, hands sneakily sliding down—bypassing the hem of his shorts and boxers, boldly wrapping your hands around his cock. He hissed, the sound not going unnoticed by you. 

“Please? I want you so bad? Need you to fuck me real good,” you continued whining, using the right amount of whineness that never fails to make him weak in the knees. 

You grinned when you heard his breath hitched in your throat, thinking you had him wrapped around your fingers. To your surprise, he ducked underneath your arms as he went to grab two bowls, leaving you there, eyes wide open with disbelief written all over your face. Jungwon laughed at your bewildered expression. 

“Sorry princess, but we’ve to eat first. Maybe later though,” he patted your head. 

You grumbled a string of curses under your breath as you helped to grab the utensils while he set the table. “That’s not fair. I’ll rather eat your dick than noodles.” 

“(Name)!”

~ 

The third time it happened was when you were getting ready for dinner and it seems like your boyfriend too, had reached his limit. You and Jungwon had made plans to meet with the rest of your friends, wanting to get together after your examinations were over. After all, what better way is there to celebrate other than eating good food and enjoying the company of your friends? However, your boyfriend wasn’t pleased with this. He grumbled, acting like a child as he remained laying on the bed, face-planted into your pillow to inhale your lingering scent. 

You, on the other hand, were almost done. You stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed and Jungwon pushed himself up, throat going dry at how stunning you looked. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, not even when you stopped before him, snapping your fingers in front of his face. His sweatpants tightened, eyes drinking in your figure. Your lips were moving but he couldn’t comprehend a single word you were saying. 

“...ie, hello? Earth to Jungwon? Are you still there?” You frowned, waving your hand before his face. 

He snapped back to reality, shooting his hand out to grab you by the wrist and tugged you forward. You let out a startled yelp, falling onto Jungwon’s lap, only to land in an awkward position. Your hand was sprayed on his chest while the other was held over his shoulder, wrist captured by his own hand. Jungwon had to lean back to avoid knocking his head against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat at how his eyes darkened. 

“Wonie?” You murmured, your heart nearly stopped beating for a second as he ducked his head to plant kisses along your neck, only to stop at a certain area that he knew you’re sensitive. You shivered when you felt him licked, sucked and bit your skin, undoubtedly leaving a hickey behind. 

“Ngh—W-Wonie, st-stop,” you whimpered. But despite your words, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling your body growing hotter as he pushed your dress up and up, until the fabric rested on your hips. 

Jungwon only moved away when he was satisfied, his thumb tracing the newly-formed hickey on your neck. “You’ve no idea how you make me feel. Wearing something like this, in front of everyone else. It’s like you’re asking to be fucked.” 

You mewled at his crude words, your panties getting soaked. Your boyfriend smirked when he saw how you tried to clench your thighs. He changed your position, pushing you down onto the sheets with him hovering over you. Jungwon quickly slid his knee between your legs, gaining a moan from you when you felt him firmly pressing his knee against your clothed clit. It was by instinct that you jerked your hips forward, attempting to get some form of friction but Jungwon held you down, preventing you from moving. 

“Isn’t that right? Trying to suck my cock early in the morning and begging to be fucked in the afternoon. You’re nothing more than just a cockslut,” he sneers. 

“Wonie, please!” You begged, your clit throbbing and clenching on nothing but thin air. 

He chuckled, shifting down until he was on his elbows and rested himself in between your spread legs. “Please what, princess? Tell me what you want.”

“T-Touch me,” you murmured, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling Jungwon’s hands tracing the outline of your figure until they landed on the hem of your panties. 

Snap! 

You squeaked when he teasingly tugged at it, letting it go as it snapped firmly against your skin, making you flinch. Jungwon leaned down, blowing hot air against your clit that was shielded by the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. Your legs twitched, hips canting forward, wanting to feel his tongue on you. He pulled it down and threw the obstacle to the floor, not caring where it landed. 

“Fuck, Jungwon!” You cried out, back arching off the bed when you felt him lapping away at your clit, collecting your arousal and spreading them across your puffy folds, as if he was spreading butter on a slice of bread. 

Unlike before when he will take his time to break down your walls one by one, reducing you to a whimpering and moaning mess, this was different. You could feel how he was consuming, devouring you whole. It was like he was a predator who had finally caught its prey, never wanting to let you go. Endless sounds of moans and mewls flowed from your lips as he ate you out like he hasn’t eaten for a month. 

You gripped onto a fistful of his blonde hair, wrapping your legs around his broad shoulders. Your eyes rolled upwards as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, spreading your drenched folds with his thumbs, sliding his tongue deeper in, reaching places where you thought it was impossible to. Jungwon had loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to buck your hips into his greedy mouth—like you were riding his face. 

The bedroom was filled with the lewd sounds of your boyfriend slurping, licking and eating you out along with your shameless sounds. You felt like you were floating, your muscles tightened, heat pooling in your stomach—like a rubber band threatening to snap into half. You tried to say something, anything but you couldn’t. Not when Jungwon delivered the final blow in the form of gently nipping the hood of your clit with his teeth. The extra simulation and brief pain was enough to tip you over the edge, squirting over the sheets and your boyfriend’s awaiting mouth. 

Your legs fell off his shoulders, a thin layer of sweat clinging onto your skin as you panted to catch your breath. Jungwon lifted himself up, his lips and chin glistened, covered in your slick. You gulped when he wiped them away with the back of his hand, licking them off his fingers with his own tongue. 

“You taste divine, princess,” he coos, your ears flushing red. He made quick work of his clothes, getting to his knees as he grabbed his cock, pressing the tip to the slit of your cunt, moving in circles to collect the remains of your slick after you had squirted. 

“Oh,” you whined, digging your fingers into the sheets. “Wonie, please—fuck!” 

Jungwon ignores your words, eyes fixated on how your walls are trying to suck him in—a sign of how desperate you are to have something inside you. As much as Jungwon wants to give you—his pretty girl, what you want, he wants you to beg. He wants you to burst into tears, pleading for his cock to fill you up. And at the same time, he wants to ruin you. Which was why Jungwon moved to slip and rubbed the tip of his cock, teasing your hole for a few seconds, only for him to pull out of your soft, warm, velvety walls. 

You squirmed, tears of frustration prickling your eyes—frustrated at how your boyfriend was being a tease, blurring your vision. “Inside, please, please, please!” 

“You’re acting like a desperate whore, you know that? I don’t think you deserve it, not after what you’ve put me through,” Jungwon grinned, the sight anything but heartwarming, creating a sense of dread.

Whining, you batted your eyelashes at him while giving him your best impression of doe-like eyes. “Please, Wonie?” 

His features softened, flashing you a loving smile. “You’ll have to try harder than that, princess.” 

“Please? With a cherry on top?” You continued, maintaining the act. 

“Good enough,” he hums, not letting you register his response and slammed his cock in in one, quick and powerful thrust, instantly filling you up with his cock. 

Your mind reeled at how full you felt, the tip of his cock grazing against your cervix. Jungwon groaned at how your walls instantly clenched onto his cock, not wanting him to pull out. He swore he could have cum right there and then, with how hard you were gripping onto him. You let out a shriek when he pounded into you without warning, slowly pushing your body up, towards the headboard. 

“Fuck—Mo-More—hah, ngh! Please, pleasepleaseplease!” You sobbed, getting drunk on the intoxicating and addictive feeling of his cock smoothly sliding in and out of you, repeatedly abusing the same spot, over and over again until you were seeing stars in your vision. 

Jungwon rested his hand on your stomach, where a faint but evident bulge was shown. “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Good for letting me fuck and use you for my own pleasure. Wonder how our friends will react if they were to know how desperate you are for my cock.” 

You outright sobbed at his words, making your mind spinned. Jungwon chuckled at how fucked out you already were. You couldn’t muster a proper sentence, tossing your head back with breathless pants and “ah, ah, ah” falling from your parted lips. To him, no words could describe how gorgeous you looked in your current state. 

The previously neat and pristine dress was now filled with wrinkles, beyond salvation. The straps had fallen, resting along your shoulders. Your breasts spilled from the dress, bouncing with every movement. Your styled hair was messed up, spread out beneath you like a halo. The makeup you wore was now smudged with tears staining on your face. Seeing how wrecked and ruined you were, Jungwon groaned, quickening his pace as he brutally snapped his hips against yours, eager to make you cum for the second time. 

“J-Jungwon, c-comi—” You muttered, only to moan as Jungwon leaned down, capturing your left nipple in his mouth. He teasingly nipped it and his action was rewarded with you clamping down on his cock, making him groan. The vibration against your chest was enough to tip you over the edge. 

Your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm, pathetically squirting. You whimpered as Jungwon followed suit, releasing inside you, pumping full of his cum. He collapsed on top of you, eliciting an undefined squawk and you weakly smacked his shoulders, groaning at how your body fluids and sweat were now mixed together. 

“Get off, you’re heavy,” you grumbled, not making any move to push him off despite your words. 

Jungwon lazily rolled off of you, laying on his back beside you. “That’s not what you should be saying to your boyfriend after he blew your back out.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Never say that again.”

“But it’s the truth” 

“YANG JUNGWON!”

[akutasoda]

"let me kiss that anger away"

synopsis - you're mad at them and they cant stand it, but they can only hope their affection is enough to win you back as soon as possible

includes - jing yuan, argenti, mydei, phainon

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, comfort, slight angst, phainon + mydei may be a bit ooc, wc - 1.9k

jing yuan ★↷

unfortunately for you, although it may be perceived as fortunate, being the general's partner meant you had unconsciously signed yourself up to be his very own personal pillow.

jing yuan always truly lived up to his title as the “lazing general” and his laziness was forcefully rubbing off on you. after all, it had become an unspoken rule in your shared abode that the time you two got up was entirely determined by jing yuan's choosing.

every morning you would wake up long before jing yuan yet you could never leave the comfort of your shared bed (and his embrace) until he decided to finally get up. his arms would always be loosely wrapped around your middle, but not loose enough to let you escape, his legs would be intertwined with your own and his head resting firmly in the crook of your neck.

although there always remained one issue. while jing yuan was the luofu's general and didn't exactly have anyone to properly tell him off about his indolence, you weren't that lucky. admittedly you did get some slack for being the partner of the general, but it wasn't enough to stop your superiors from occasionally lecturing your ear off about time keeping and properness.

one too many of such incidents had led to you making the tough, but necessary, decision of sleeping separately to your lover until you rebuilt your superiors forgiveness.

and as expected, jing yuan was not a fan of such arrangements. he would linger by the door, watching as you prepared your sleeping area that wasn't shared with him, a childish pout close to forming on his face as he complained about being lonely and making false promises to let you go when you wake up just so long as you returned to his embrace.

it pained you but you had to stand your ground on the matter. soon enough jing yuan would retreat with a defeated sigh and hesitance in his steps - not too long later you would fall asleep, determined to finally be on time for the first time since you started living with jing yuan.

but you should've known that jing yuan wouldn't have given up as you were abruptly woken up in the middle of the night to a familiar presence holding you in his embrace.

you could barely open your eyes yet you still tried moving away but it was a futile effort as immediately the arms wrapped around your frame tightened and pulled you back. all that was left for you to do was to sigh in defeat and go back to sleep.

as usual , you woke earlier than jing yuan and yet you couldn't move anywhere although your shuffling was enough to wake him. jing yuan could only let out a smug smile when you glared at him and give your scowl a quick kiss as an apology for your inevitable lateness to work.

argenti ★↷

argenti was always a gentleman to you, constantly showering you in praise and pure admiration, going out of his way to do things for you and so on - admittedly most of the time it was subtle, but just enough for you to know what he was doing.

and so, if anything, the only thing you could ever get mad at him for was either his occasional habit to put himself into dangerous situations for the sake of others, or simply the fact that it sometimes felt like there was nothing you could ever do for argenti.

it was not unheard of or even a surprise that the knight of beauty was quite the romantic and due to the fact that he lived up to that title, it was a challenge for you to try and reciprocate that kind of level of affection as whatever you did felt like it pales in comparison to what he would do for you.

in hindsight it probably was rather a trivial matter to be getting “mad” over, but for once you'd like to be the one to do something meaningful that flustered him.

argenti didn't let your sudden change in mood go unnoticed. he observed how you seemed more irked lately, always staring him down with half a scowl in your face seemingly lost in thought - he was always left wondering what happened and if he did something to cause this. and indirectly, he did.

no matter how hard you could try to hide your plan of trying to find a way to do something for argenti that rivaled what he did for you, he would find out - argenti was always very attentive when it came to you.

and when he found out the specific nature of your idea, he couldn't help but feel enamoured but he didn't really want you going to those lengths for him. so he'd soon confront you.

a smile would soon grace his features, a genuine soft one that very admittedly made his heart flutter. he'd readjust himself so that he would be kneeling down on one knee, holding both your hands in his infront of you - the knight would then proceed to also look up at you with the most lovesick look you'd ever seen from him.

argenti would then proclaim how much he appreciated your efforts in trying to do something for him and elaborate on how it was a welcome but slightly unnecessary endeavour as long as he could make you happy, that was all that he cared about.

he would soon stand back up so he could give you a kiss - his apology and reassurance to you that as long as you were happy, there was nothing more he could ever have.

mydei ★↷

mydei was never one to anger you on purpose. although it may seem as though he would enjoy riling someone up, he would never do so to the people he cared about - at least not seriously, more in a playful gist.

so it was never a surprise for onlookers to see you glaring down mydei who in return would then have a smug smile plastered on his face.

he always knew that when he made a sly, almost childish remark, that you never took it too seriously as at this point you were used to his teasing. unfortunately for mydei, a more recent counter you had devised involved starting to avoid him.

it really served no other purpose than being a sort of petty way of getting back at him. at first, mydei simplu huffed at your attempts. he claimed they were futile endeavours and you'd come seeking his presence not too long after. unbeknownst to him, you're resolve ended up being stronger than his.

for as strong as mydei was, you were always going to be a weak spot for him and that didn't change upon your presence being missing from his, even if it was for a short period of time.

with each time you deployed this tactic, the wait time between seeing mydei and then seeing him come looking for you got shorter and shorter. mydei would find himself missing you, realising just how much he cherished you and how weirdly empty he felt without you by his side - something he'd never admit to your face but certainly would show in his actions.

by the time mydei would seek you out, he'd be in a huff. grumbling nonsense to you about leaving him alone for so long and even throwing in similar remarks to the teasing that got him in this situation but you would pretend to let those ones go unnoticed.

almost instinctively at this point he'd grab your hand and drag you away, somewhere that had less prying eyes that would happily feed their curiosities on you and mydei's relationship. and once he had achieved such, he'd sneak his arms around your middle before burying his head into the corner of your shoulder, still grumbling away to himself.

there would be a brief moment in which the two of you stayed there like that. once he'd have his fill of your embrace, mydei would lift his head to give you a kiss

mydei would soon pull away fully, passing a remark to never do that to him again, before gently and very desultory hitting you on the head before walking a way with a smile on his face.

phainon ★↷

being infuriated at phainon was a near impossible task. even if on the rare occasion you were, he was an individual who would do anything in his power to turn that around as quickly and as sensibly as possible - he would despise it knowing you were upset with him and whatever he did would be his responsibility to fix in a reasonable manner.

and that was always something he would strive to do. even if you're anger was a result of your day, phainon would take it upon himself to help you cheer up and calm down, hopefully aiming to aid in melting away your stresses and worries.

in all honesty, you would be lying to say that he wasn't effective at it. whether it was because of his own fault or not, it didn't matter so long as you returned to him and his embrace at the end of the day.

although that was easier said than done when it did end up being phainon who was the source of your infuriation. and yet he was always still determined to make it up to you - if anything phainon could be rather persistent at times, especially when it came to you.

he would give you the space and time without him to have your moment for yourself, and when both of your heads were level, with your anger replaced for a gentle yearning, phainon would be the one to seek you out first. however, when he did find you he would make his presence known but he would stay silent and while retaining a small distance to give you the space and control just in case you needed longer.

you always knew what he was doing and it was very much appreciated on your end. there was a comfort in knowing that phainon was always there for you, always willing to do what he can for you and him.

perhaps that's why you could never be angry at him for too long.

as soon as you gave him some sort of signal that it was okay for him to finally be with you again, he took the opportunity with barely contained excitement. he'd listen to your worries or whatever it was you needed to get off your chest but if you didn't feel like talking then, he'd also happily wait in silence for you.

although phainon could never stand to see your face shadowed in something negative. so regardless of whether you wanted to talk or not, he'd open his arms for you to fall into his embrace - an offer you'd take up most of the time, a silent promise that he was still there for you and into the future.

[treatbuckywkisses]

The prospect of spending an entire week without seeing or touching Bucky seems like pure torture. You suspect Thor didn’t take kindly to you turning him down in favour of Bucky which has resulted in you covering the night shift for the next two weeks. nooooooo:( not the opposite schedule as punishment that is LITERALLY the worst (speaking from experience night shift genuinely makes me so sad) I don't care if he's a god rn he's a bitch 

"Sending you kisses and dirty dreams" is such a line I have to steal that for personal use 

You listen to his message three times. Firstly, just to hear his voice, how elated he sounds speaking to your voicemail. Second, to actually take in what he said. And thirdly, to listen to the sound of his voice again. Me when I read trulyyy I have to stop my brain from being too excited and skipping stuff😭 then I go back and reread it to make sure I got everything 😅 

When he answers his door, there’s a moment's pause where you simply stare joyously at each other, as if trying to determine if this is actually real or something concocted in a dream. I am emo for this :(

Seeing Bucky’s gorgeous, smiling face after a week apart is like a breath of fresh air. After a week of suffocating, you could now take a long, deep breath, oxygenating all those cells in your body which had been crying out for him. By the achingly doting expression on his face, you are positive he has longed for this moment as much as you have. Em. Why are you set out to kill me. This is the most BEAUTIFUL thing I've ever read. This description????? You literally made up ????????? In your big beautiful brain ?????? What do you mean HOW DID U DO THAT 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I have read this 5 times now alone I simply cannot move on from this. I will never be normal about this ever.

His lounge room is lit up with candles, casting a soft, warm glow over the entire room and filling the air with a sweet vanilla fragrance. The couch and coffee table have been pushed to the back wall to make room for a makeshift bed of multiple blankets and pillows. A small projector sits at the foot of the ‘bed’, pointing at a now bare wall, the few pictures Bucky did have up now stored on the coffee table. To top it all off, rose petals have been scattered all around the room, with a bouquet of the same flowers tied up neatly in a pretty bow beside the bed which you can only assume is for you. This??? THIS????????? yeah. im done for. DONE FOR. AND FOR HIM TO SAY "ID DO ANYTHING FOR YOU" WITHOUT HESITATION!??????????? EM. YOURE CRIMINAL.

He looks at you with such extreme fondness, like something precious he values and wants to keep safe, and you have no choice but to kiss him. Not soft and sweet like his was, but instead ardently, fiercely. As a ‘thank you’. As a ‘I missed you’. As a ‘I care about you beyond what words can describe’. As a ‘I need you right now’.  Exactly this.

HE SWAPPED SHIFTS TO BE WITH HER IM SO MUSHY & MELTY GET OUT.

“Oh I’m most definitely pussy drunk. Pussy addicted even.” He affirms with his signature smirk. Warmth blooms in your chest at how shamelessly he’s into you - you have become accustomed to men’s ambiguous signals, their aversion to commitment, but with Bucky, as soon as you proclaimed yourself as his girlfriend, he’s been nothing but unabashedly yours. OMGSBSGSKHS I MADE THIS JOKE EARLIER IM SO HAPPY TO SEE IT IN THE REAL THING IM DEAD 😹😹 

“Of course I did.” He says with an amused lilt as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your stomach tingles with something of devoted affection when you perceive no trace of deception in his features. the way. he is so effortless. And CASUAL. about the lengths he would go to I AM SICK. "OF COURSE I DID" "ID DO ANYTHING FOR YOU" GOD SHUT UP I CANT TAKE ANY MORE YOURE KILLING ME.

Looking into his steel blue eyes, which regard you with a familiar warmth and devotion, your stomach clenches as the realisation hits you - you have something in this world you’re terrified to lose. Im ill and you're insane. 

Night Shift

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 5 | Series Masterlist | PART 7 > >

Summary: When you’re stuck on night shift for two weeks, you and Bucky find it difficult to spend time together.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, mention of sending nudes/audio within an established relationship, implied food play, mention of dialysis and an elderly patient dying, soft fluff

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: I truly didn’t mean for this part to be this long, yet here we are. Some soft smut and domestic fluff after the angst of part 5. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

“My place next weekend?” Bucky poses as he peppers delicate kisses over your face. You scrunch your nose and let out a little squeal of glee that promotes him to continue his trail of kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

The prospect of spending an entire week without seeing or touching Bucky seems like pure torture. You suspect Thor didn’t take kindly to you turning him down in favour of Bucky which has resulted in you covering the night shift for the next two weeks.

With Bucky still living with and taking care of his Ma recovering at home after being discharged from the surgical ward last week, and your now severely conflicting schedules, you know you won’t find the time to see each other until the following weekend.

You have to remind yourself that you only have to endure six days without him, not even a full week, but it’s the six nights attempting to fall asleep in an empty bed without his strong arms cuddling you into his broad, musky scented chest that you suspect will be more tormenting to endure.

“What have you got planned?” Your eyes narrow, trying to see if you can get any clues by reading his countenances. Unfortunately, all he does is smile, which gives away nothing except for the soft flutter of butterflies in your stomach that indicate how you enjoy being the cause of his happiness.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” God he loves to tease, and as much as you adore him for it, having something specific to look forward to at the end of the week would actually be very helpful in surviving the week.

“Can it be next weekend already?” You whine between peppered kisses around your face. Bucky simply chuckles, but he feels your pain, he doesn’t want to have to endure the impending week without you either.

“I promise, the week will go by in a flash.”

But this one time, Bucky’s promise isn’t truthful.

The week feels like it’s moving through tar.

You’re awake when it’s pitch black outside and when you attempt to sleep at home, the sun is seeping through your curtains, almost mocking you that you can’t be outside enjoying it.

The night shift drags on more so than a regular day because you don’t have Wanda keeping you company, and you know that you won’t be able to steal glimpses of Bucky which normally sustain you throughout your shift.

You then come home and crash on an empty bed in a lonely apartment when most people are only just starting their day. Your mind can’t help but wonder what Bucky is doing at this very moment. Perhaps he’s making breakfast for his mom, and you smile thinking about them joking together over their cereal. Or maybe he’s having his morning shower, the hot water cascading over his toned body, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes as he washes his naked body.

Possibly thinking about you.

Maybe even touching himself to the thought of you being right there with him.

And that’s the image you manage to fall asleep thinking about and which enters your dreams.

The following day is no better. Sporadic messages from Bucky during his waking hours is the only contact you have with him, until it gets too late where his communication ceases altogether, under the assumption he finally fell asleep.

After driving home, and two and a half long days without seeing him, you’re desperate to hear his voice. Sadly, the only time you manage to hear it is when his voicemail instructs you to leave a message because you’ve missed him. At a very minimum he will be able to hear your voice if you leave a voicemail, so you decide to tell him about your day.

“Morning baby, I know you’re probably with your Ma, but I just finished my shift and I’m on my way home and I’d thought I’d see if I could catch you before I fall asleep. It was a tough one today, Mrs Stewart, that lovely lady on dialysis who read my cards, the one I told you about last week, she came into the ER again and passed away overnight. I organised for her daughters to come in to say goodbye, but it felt like such an injustice, she should have had more time and been able to meet her grandbaby. I wish I had been able to come home to a hug and kiss from you.” You take a short pause, trying to compose yourself. You’re a doctor, losing patients is part of the job description and just makes saving lives that more extraordinary, but it is always easier to cope when you have Bucky there to run you a bath and help wash the day off you.

You don’t get that privilege this week.

“How’s your Ma? I know you said the other day she was meeting all her goals so I’m sure she’s breaking all kinds of records and continuing to be a mischief maker just like her son is.” You let out a chuckle, thinking of your cheeky boyfriend and his even sassier mom interacting with each other makes you grin. “Two nights down, four more to go. Honestly the weekend can’t come soon enough, I already miss you and it’s only been two days! Oh also, I sent you some pictures overnight, I hope you enjoy getting to look through those before bed later, I think you’ll like them. Sending you kisses and dirty dreams. I hope we get to speak soon baby.”

You hang up feeling ever so slightly better. Even though you weren’t actually speaking with him directly, in some strange way you feel like you have.

When you wake up, a good eight hours later, feeling more exhausted than when you went to sleep, one of the notifications you’ve missed is a call from Bucky, and your heart flutters when you realise he’s also left you a long voicemail.

“Hey darling, it was so great hearing your voice just before starting my shift, I feel like my day is already brighter from just listening to you talk. I’m sorry to hear about your patient, she seemed like such a sweet lady. If I were with you I’d give you the biggest hug and kiss, you deserve them both. Just know you are an amazing doctor; and her daughters will be grateful that they got their chance to say goodbye.” There’s a long pause in the recording, so much so you think your phone has accidentally switched off, but then you hear his voice again. “Ma is doing so well, we’re getting out and doing some small walks around her neighbourhood. She’s friends with one of the lady’s down the end of the street and her poodle puppy, so her motivation to keep walking is to see little Millie and get puppy kisses. I have to take her to a follow-up appointment after work, so it might prove a little tricky finding a time to chat but hopefully I can catch you before your shift.”

Your heart sinks, after not actually getting to speak with him earlier today you had hoped this afternoon would be your best chance to do so. But as disappointed as you are, you don’t blame Bucky one bit - he has to take care of his mom, and seeing the relationship they share only makes you adore him even more.

“I had a sneak at those pictures earlier and you made me harder than a fucking rock looking like a wet dream in that lingerie set. You can guarantee I’ll be looking at those when I go to sleep tonight. I might just have to send you some audio of how much I enjoy them.” Excitement tingles down your spine and you salivate at the thought of hearing Bucky get off to pictures of you. That of all the people he’s ever been with, you’re the one he can’t get enough of. “I hope you’re resting up baby, you deserve it. I’m sure we’ll speak soon, and if not, I’m just gonna keep listening to your voicemail on repeat so I can hear your voice again.”

You listen to his message three times. Firstly, just to hear his voice, how elated he sounds speaking to your voicemail. Second, to actually take in what he said. And thirdly, to listen to the sound of his voice again.

The remainder of the week wouldn’t be such a drag now that you could listen to his voice any time you want.

* * *

After your shift ends on Saturday morning, you have a pep in your step as you exit the hospital, on your way straight to Bucky’s place.

You’re finally going to see him again and nothing, not even the wet weather that you drive through towards his apartment, will dampen that.

When he answers his door, there’s a moment's pause where you simply stare joyously at each other, as if trying to determine if this is actually real or something concocted in a dream.

Seeing Bucky’s gorgeous, smiling face after a week apart is like a breath of fresh air. After a week of suffocating, you could now take a long, deep breath, oxygenating all those cells in your body which had been crying out for him. By the achingly doting expression on his face, you are positive he has longed for this moment as much as you have.

Someone else would probably think you had spent months apart with how hurriedly you pull one another into a crushing embrace. Your arms fling around his neck, pulling him down to you, and he pulls your waist flush with his as he buries his face in your neck.

“I missed you.” You whisper in his ear, taking in the familiar scent of his eucalyptus shampoo and that musky scent which was just naturally Bucky.

“Not as much as I missed you.” He mumbles, pulling back so his lips can capture yours in a tender kiss. His lips are soft and meld against yours with languid motions.

You stay in each other's arms for a long moment, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace, letting the rest of the world melt away as you revel in the delight of being reunited.

With a kiss to your forehead, Bucky takes your hand and leads you inside, not wanting to be deficient of your touch for even a single second longer.

“I have something to show you.” He proclaims with a mischievous grin. You’re left to ponder what it might be as he doesn’t give you any hints, however, you don’t need to wait long for when he leads you through the doorway to his living space the surprise hits you square in the chest.

“Bucky…” Your jaw drops open and you’re left speechless.

His lounge room is lit up with candles, casting a soft, warm glow over the entire room and filling the air with a sweet vanilla fragrance. The couch and coffee table have been pushed to the back wall to make room for a makeshift bed of multiple blankets and pillows. A small projector sits at the foot of the ‘bed’, pointing at a now bare wall, the few pictures Bucky did have up now stored on the coffee table. To top it all off, rose petals have been scattered all around the room, with a bouquet of the same flowers tied up neatly in a pretty bow beside the bed which you can only assume is for you.

“You did all this for me?” You choke out, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you but the lump in your throat betraying you.

“I’d do anything for you.” He responds without hesitation. “I wanted to have a romantic weekend together after not seeing you for so long.”

He looks at you with such extreme fondness, like something precious he values and wants to keep safe, and you have no choice but to kiss him. Not soft and sweet like his was, but instead ardently, fiercely. As a ‘thank you’. As a ‘I missed you’. As a ‘I care about you beyond what words can describe’. As a ‘I need you right now’.

Your hands find his hair and pull lightly, in the way you know he likes and which helps you open him up to you so you can sweep your tongue in his mouth.

You’re in control of the kiss until Bucky manages to slip a large hand past the elastic of your pants, fingers finding the wet patch forming in your panties. Even the feel of his thick fingers through the material is enough to make you keen, and all of a sudden you’re putty in his hands as he takes charge.

“How long have you been this wet for me, darling?”

“All week.” You moan breathlessly as he runs his fingers through your soaking folds, making sure his thumb circles your clit with the just the right pressure he has come to know with experience makes your toes curl. “Jerking off to your pictures just isn’t the same.”

“You need the real thing, baby?” Bucky nips at your earlobe before sucking on your neck, the sensation making you dizzy with lust. You want him - no, need him, more than you’ve needed anyone before, more than you need to breathe.

“Yes, please.” You beg, hands reaching down to feel his hardening cock underneath the material of his sweatpants. His lips connect with yours again as you cup his balls through his pants, a gravelly grunt escaping his lips

“Lay down, darling.” Bucky instructs, his spare, strong hand running down your back to assist you falling backwards onto his provisional blanket bed. “I got you.” He promises as you let him hold your body weight, placing you down carefully and ensuring your head rests on one of the pillows.

Bucky cages you in, his muscular form and intoxicating scent consuming your vision and filling all your senses. His eyes are brimming with desire, observing you underneath him as if you are the most alluring sight he’s ever had the pleasure of gazing at, and it only makes the wet patch in your panties grow.

“Need you, James.” He smirks as his real name falls from your lips. Bucky knows you mean business when you use it, and though he loves to tease you, today is not the time for that, because as much as you need him, he needs you even more.

“I know baby, Imma take good care of you, make you feel so good.” Bucky coos before sliding down your body, pulling your slacks and underwear off in one go. “There’s my pretty pussy.” As soon as his plump lips suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, you’re sent straight to heaven. Without giving you a moment to think about how almost painfully good he’s making you feel and how much you’ve missed the feel of his tongue swirling at your core, he’s slipped two fingers inside you, fervently stroking your velvety, fluttering walls.

“Shit, Buck. God, I’ve missed your mouth.” If you were with anyone but your precious Bucky, who you trust implicitly, you might be embarrassed by how quickly the band at the bottom of your stomach is tightening, ready to snap at any second. But you never feel self conscious when you’re with him - his utmost concern with your pleasure, ensuring you always feel safe and comfortable when you’re with him nourishes the trust you share.

You look down at Bucky between your legs still fully clothed, rutting into the blankets beneath him, as if he’s getting off on purely the taste of you. You swear you’ve never been with a partner who actually enjoys eating you out as much as Bucky does, rather than seeing it as a chore to get through so you’ll suck them off.

Through his long hair, strands of which have fallen in front of his face, his piercing blue eyes look up to find you watching him intently, overflowing pleasure etched on your features, whimpers and moans cascading from your mouth. This only spurs him on. With a smirk you can feel against your sensitive folds, his movements become more frantic, pushing you ever closer to your impending high.

“Make a mess on my face, darling.” His breath is hot against your centre, before diving right back in, tongue feverishly licking up every drop of arousal he himself is responsible for, as his fingers curl to find that spot inside you which makes you see stars.

“Buck- oh god, oh please, right there, fuck yes, yes, right there, don’t stop.” Your thighs squeeze around his head but it doesn’t slow him down. He’s been starving for a week and nothing, even not being able to breathe, is going to stop him from taking you over the edge of ecstasy.

And that’s exactly what he does. With a simultaneous thrust of his fingers and suction on your clit, you cum with a cry of his name, thighs quivering and toes curling as your back arches off the pile of blankets and pillows that are now in disarray.

“That’s my good girl.” He praises, continuing to pump his fingers inside you as his other hand frantically rubs your clit, prolonging your pleasure and causing your body to involuntary jerk as your orgasm fires through every cell in your body.

When you finally come down, completely out of breath and sweat beading on your brow, Bucky smirks at you in his signature, cheeky way where you can’t help a reciprocating smile blossoming in your own features.

“Now, let’s see how many times you can cum on this fat cock.”

* * *

“Bucky?” You mumble with a hoarse voice as your eyes blink open to the bright early afternoon sun streaming through the cracks in Bucky’s curtains, even though you can tell he’s tried to pull them across as far as they will go so you can sleep in mild darkness.

When you don’t get a response you turn over lazily, arm reaching out to the spot beside you on the makeshift bed only to find cool sheets and spare pillows. Your heart drops that even though you got to fall asleep beside Bucky, you haven’t been able to wake up beside him.

That moment of happiness and contentment as you both open your eyes in the morning, being the first thing you each see in the day, after being the last before falling asleep, as soft smiles spread simultaneously over both of your features, is a type of pure magic you don’t want to be deprived of once you’ve had a taste.

Hearing movement and faint sizzling coming from the adjacent kitchen, you pull Bucky’s discarded Henley over your naked form and, with a stifled yawn, shuffle towards your boyfriend.

You take a moment to lean on the doorframe and admire your burly boyfriend, shirtless, with grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, long hair tied back from his face in a small bun as he pours batter onto a frypan.

You could get used to this.

The muscles of his bare back flex as you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade, your arms snaking around his toned midriff

“Did you sleep well?” He asks softly as the hand he’s not using covers your left hand, fingers naturally slotting between yours. One of your favourite things since officially becoming his girlfriend is how physically affectionate he’s become. He’ll make any excuse to hold your hand, to sling an arm around your shoulders or have you sitting in his lap.

The fact that he seeks out that contact with you, makes your heart flutter each time. Warmth blooms in your chest knowing you’re the only person he wants that affectionate, lovey-dovey connection with.

“Hmm I guess. Wanted to wake up next to you though.” Your arms tighten around his waist, as if to reflexively keep him close and prevent him from moving away as he had done while you were asleep.

“I’m sorry darling, our sleep schedules are just off at the moment.” You kiss a freckle on his shoulder blade, a silent recognition that you understand what he means and you aren’t upset. You observe a shiver running down his back at your soft kiss so you do it again with a smile, loving that you’re the one person who gets to elicit that kind of reaction from him.

“Watcha making?” You ask lazily, standing on your tiptoes so you can see above his shoulder to what he’s cooking in the frypan. The room smells delicious, like sugary sweetness and melting butter

“Pancakes. Figured we’d need some energy after what we did this morning.” He chuckles as you let out a little squeal of delight. No man has ever put the effort in to cook for you before, and now Bucky’s making one of your childhood favourites. “Plus, they’re one of the only things I can make well.”

“They almost look as yummy as you.” You flatter, poking him at the ticklish spot he has just above his hip which makes him squirm and giggle.

“You’ll have to make sure to save room for your dessert then.”

You fall into comfortable silence as you remain resting on his back and Bucky continues to cook the pancakes one at a time, treasuring the closeness given your separation over the past week, but not needing conversation to feel at ease with each other's presence.

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me again, huh?” Bucky’s voice pulls you away from the dark void of sleep you were falling into without realising.

“Maybe… you’re just so comfy.” You mumble, your tired lips barely articulating the words, but Bucky chuckles like he knows what you’ve said.

“Here…” He places the spatula down and before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the hips and lifting you onto the counter beside his stove. He stands between your legs, casually kissing you and hands smoothing over your bare thighs. In this moment it feels as though nothing can come between you, even the prospect of spending the rest of your career on the night shift. “My sweet girl.” He mumbles against your lips, hooking your legs around his waist, getting lost in the taste of you to the extent that he almost forgets about the batter cooking on the pan and has to frantically untangle himself from you to turn them before they burn.

Once the pancakes are done, Bucky serves them up on a plate for each of you and leads you back to the living room with your hand in his, only leaving you huddled in the blankets alone for a moment to go grab all the topping options he purchased specifically for this occasion.

You start eating your pancakes as Bucky fiddles to connect the projector, cursing under his breath when it doesn’t work. You tell him not to mind, because after finishing your pancakes, you’re interested in other activities that don’t involve watching a movie, and making use of the rest of the whipped cream Bucky bought.

Though the weekend will surely go by in a flash, you want to stay in the moment with him and enjoy every sweet and sinful second you get together.

* * *

Before you know it, Monday has come round again and you’re back on the night shift. Yes, the week without Bucky had been difficult and you didn’t like it one bit, but you made it through once, so you know you can do it again.

Besides, your weekend of indulgence certainly made up for the lonely nights and days without seeing him, so you’re using the prospect of a similar weekend as motivation to get through another gruelling week.

Early on in your shift, as you’re preparing to send a young man in for an x-ray of his possibly fractured wrist, a familiar voice calls your name as they approach the nurses desk.

“Buck?” Your heart starts beating frantically thinking something must be catastrophically wrong for him to be in the ER at this time of night. “Is everything okay? Is it your mom?” Your voice is shaky, but your concern isn’t reflected on his face.

If you weren’t in a state of panic, you would have realised that him being in his EMT uniform was an indication of the true reason he found himself inside the hospital, but you fail to notice that detail in the moment of anxiety.

“Darling, everything is fine.” He punctuates his reassurance with a sweet kiss, his large hands calmly cupping your face and savouring the feel of your lips against his. “I swapped shifts with someone on nights for the week. I didn’t want to have to go another whole week without seeing you or sleeping next to you.”

Surprise stuns you for a split second - Bucky changed to the night shift because he missed you that much last week. Your stomach does a flip at how thoughtful his gesture is.

“Or do you mean sleeping with me? Are you a little pussy drunk, Barnes?” You tease.

“Oh I’m most definitely pussy drunk. Pussy addicted even.” He affirms with his signature smirk. Warmth blooms in your chest at how shamelessly he’s into you - you have become accustomed to men’s ambiguous signals, their aversion to commitment, but with Bucky, as soon as you proclaimed yourself as his girlfriend, he’s been nothing but unabashedly yours.

“You really swapped the night shift just for me?” You ask, voice softer and more vulnerable now. No one has ever gone out of their way to inconvenience themselves for you before. Part of your brain can’t believe seeing you more is the only reason Bucky has made the switch. Surely he must have some ulterior motive?

“Of course I did.” He says with an amused lilt as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your stomach tingles with something of devoted affection when you perceive no trace of deception in his features.

“What about your Ma?” You question, very appreciative of what Bucky has done but concerned he hasn’t thought it through the whole way.

��Steve offered to help out, and I can still see her before each shift in the afternoon and afterwards in the mornings.” He reassures with a smile that relieves any doubt you were feeling. “Spending time with you is important to me. No one makes me feel as happy and content as I do when I’m with you, so when the opportunity presented itself, of course I took it.”

Looking into his steel blue eyes, which regard you with a familiar warmth and devotion, your stomach clenches as the realisation hits you - you have something in this world you’re terrified to lose.

Perhaps his edges are a little jagged by his past, but Bucky makes you feel like you’re in the exact right place at the exact right time, that there’s no rush, nothing to run or hide from, that you are precisely where you’re meant to be.

And though you don’t tell him that you’re falling in love, you kiss him like you do.

Part 7 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv

[luminni]

Imagine Konig gets put on medical leave for some injury, it's minor but could get worse if not allowed to rest, so they put him on leave and he's just...not happy about it. He has nothing to do and is bored in his little flat, he thinks he might go crazy if he can't do something. So he starts working at a little corner store/cafe just to pass the time. Not his first choice but it's just a block away and he can make a little extra cash from it. Plus it's something he can do, a set of instructions and a way to complete them? That's kind of his whole thing. He doesn't take orders, god no, he's much too socially awkward for that. Instead he's behind the counter, making drinks and heating up pre-packaged croissant sandwiches. The only talking he ever has to do is barking out someone's name or order number to let them know it's ready, always with a sharp, gruff tone that makes him sound constantly pissed off when that's not the case. He's just a nervous man with a deep voice is all, his co-workers don't talk to him because they all think he hates them (which couldn't be further from the truth) and they don't think they've heard him say more than 2 words at a time. It doesn't really bother Konig though, he's just doing this to pass the time, keep his mind busy.

That is until you wonder into the shop one busy Monday morning. You wouldn't usually stop on your way to work but you were in such a rush this morning you forgot to eat breakfast. You duck into the bustling cafe and wait in line, not noticing the giant of a man behind the counter. He doesn't notice you either, he's too busy completing orders, until you step up to the till. His ears immediately perk up when he hears you order, your voice is so soft and sweet, politely making your order. Gently asking for one of the water bottles from the fridge, patient and kind despite him being sure you were probably in the same kind of rush as everyone else. He felt drawn to the gentle lull and cadence of the way you talked, your sweet "have a nice day!" Ringing in his head for a moment as he imagined you had said it directly to him. He stole a glance in your direction as you walked over to the pick up counter and you were as pretty as you sounded. Bundled up against the cold in a puffy jacket and over sized scarf that you buried your cold nose into. He was smitten, but more than that he was determined. Determined to be the one who would make your order and call it out. He rushed through his other orders and snagged yours just as one of his coworkers was reaching for it, turning away from them wordlessly. It had never been this hard for him to make a simple sandwich, now it felt like his large, clumsy fingers went in the opposite direction of where he wanted them. But he fumbled through it all the same, and when I came time to announce your order he couldn't bring himself to bark it out like he did the others. Your voice had been so sweet and he didn't want to startle you or scare you off. So with all the gentleness a 6'10" wall of muscle can manage, he called out your order, though it came out more a a whisper than anything. Some of his colleagues looked at him, they had never heard him use a tone of voice other than "Mildly annoyed". But he didn't care, he was focused solely on you and the way your eyes lit up at the sound, shuffling over to grab your food from him. You took the box and made eye contact with him, giving him a sweet "thank you very much" which he turned away from, unable to stand his nervousness when he was making eye contact. But uttering a still soft "...you're welcome" all the same. He just hopes you come back tomorrow or sometime before he's deployed again.

[muletia]

God damn you for putting puppy optimus in my head.

All I can imagine is him being the biggest cuddly puppy that has ever exsoted but also begging none stop for your strap and your litter of sparklings.

LET HIM HAVE HIS LITTER GODDAMN IT!!!

he he that just means I'm doing a good job at spreading sub!op propaganda~

nah but fr if I am to be plagued with visions of puppy Optimus then you guys have to hear me yapping about him too <3 /j

Oh, the duality of a mech obsessed with you. Wanting nothing more than to cuddle, lie on your lap while you pet his helm, and pour all his endlessly immense love for you into every embrace. But also craving to experience your love in return, even if he has to whine for it every minute because he’s so touch-starved.

But also surrendering his body entirely into your hands. Allowing you to peg him as long as you desire, the longer, the better. The more frequent, the better too. The more discomfort it causes him to walk the next day, the more satisfied he feels. And yet, he’ll still whine pitifully, begging you to give in and put the strap on. With puppy Optimus, there are no days off. You’ll try for sparklings every single day, even if it’s biologically impossible. Optimus is incredibly determined to feel the fullness of carrying an entire litter of sparklings within him, something he’ll describe to you in vivid detail while deep in subspace, as you pound into his tank with every powerful thrust.

Even when understanding his words becomes nearly impossible because he’s completely dumbed down from the interfacing, you’ll still catch words like “litter” and “sparklings” now and then <3

[thollandneedy]

Co-pilot- Peter Parker

A/n: I had this idea for SO LONG! I swear...

Warnings: Swearing and make-out

Summary: Peter and Y/n return from a concert, and end up getting lost because she falls asleep while giving Peter directions, which makes the night longer than it should be (classic enemies to lovers)

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

“I can't believe I saw Ariana Grande up front.” Y/n exclaimed to herself, looking at her cell phone where all the videos she had recorded after the concert had ended.

“And I can't believe I made it through two hours with you screaming in my ear,” Peter said, following in the girl's footsteps that led them both to the stadium parking lot.

Peter was responsible for Y/n, but it wasn't as if he was enjoying her company. Y/n and Peter had what we call a 'cat and dog relationship', since ever since they met, they didn't quite know how to build a professional relationship without their opposing feelings getting in the way of their training and living together. Through Y/n's father, Tony Stark, Peter was determined to do whatever it took to win his approval, even if it meant taking the girl to his favorite singer's concert and supervising her. Y/n wasn't happy with his company either, knowing that Peter was only after her because Tony had asked him to.

Unlike Peter, who thought the girl was just another spoiled teenager, Y/n could see a touch of humility and love for others when he helped people. Spider-Man was more of an Alter-ego than a hero. He was Peter Parker, but improved and cooler, at least that's what the girl thought.

“You say that as if I've disrupted the show” The girl grumbles, putting her cell phone away in her pocket and trying to open the driver's door of the car.

“Hey, hey, hey” Peter steps in front of the girl, causing her to look at him with a confused face. ”Mr. Stark said i was going to drive.”

“My father doesn't need to know.” The girl, wearing black jeans and a blouse emblazoned with the album 'Dangerous Woman', says trying to gently push Peter away from her.

“But I will, and if anything happens to you, I'll kill you and then your father will kill me.” The boy says, taking the key to the Audi R8 from his pocket and opening the doors of the blue car.

“'Stop being boring, Peter. I'm not even tired! I can drive without any problems.” Y/n asks again, only to be answered by silence from the brunette, who just gets into the car and closes the door in the girl's face, who scoffs to herself and turns the car around, opening the passenger door.

“Put it on the map for me, please, where we should go. I'm not sure which streets to take to get back to the tower.” The young man in the dark gray shirt comments, slipping the safety belt over his body.

Y/n touches the dashboard of the car, and even with it on, nothing appears on the small screen. Peter frowns, taking Y/n's index finger off the screen, trying to do it himself and getting no response from the device.

“This car is from 2015, and my father hasn't gotten rid of it yet. It must have some emotional value.” Y/n replies, settling back in his seat as he picks up his cell phone again to look at the videos he's recorded.

“Shit.” Peter curses.

“Don't let Cap hear that.” Y/n laughs as she looks at Peter, then puts the digital map on her cell phone so she can guide the brunette to the tower. “I'll be the copilot.”

“I prefer death.” Peter replied, starting the car.

“What was your favorite part of the show?” Y/n asks, looking at Peter concentrating on the congestion in the parking lot due to people leaving at the same time.

“When you lost your voice.” Peter replied, smiling to himself and then to Y/n who stared at him expressionlessly. “Just kidding. When she sang NASA.”

“God is a Woman was better.” Y/n says.

“Only because she walked in front of you and took your hand.” Peter recalls.

“Who can blame me.” Y/n shrugs, glancing at Peter, who replies with a sideways smile.

The parking lot was lost a few meters away when Peter entered the city streets. After a long time singing, waiting in queues and a sleepless night due to concert anxiety, Y/n felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier, while Peter fought with himself not to fall asleep driving. The sky was at its blackest as the clock struck midnight, and they were both tired. Y/n's cell phone was resting on her thigh, and even though she was sleepy, the girl was trying to tell her which way to turn so that they wouldn't get lost. Almost fifteen minutes later, Y/n was resting her body in her dreams, while Peter waited for another command.

“Y/n” Peter called, stopping at a traffic light.

“Um” the girl mumbles.

“Turn where?” The brunette asked without taking his eyes off the street.

“Uh… right and go straight for 20 kilometers” The girl quickly looks at her cell phone and nods off again.

Peter, following the sleeping girl's instructions, does as he's told. With a lost expression, Peter leans forward trying to read what was written on the sign, then slams the steering wheel and curses loudly.

“FUCK”

Y/n wakes up startled, looking around lost. Her heart raced, causing her hand to rest on her chest.

“What the fuck, Peter! What's wrong?” The girl curses, adjusting her posture on the bench.

“I have no idea where we are, and we're running out of gas.” The brunette closes his eyes, looking down at his lap. “Are you sure we're on the right track?” Peter picks up the cellphone resting on the girl's thigh, reviewing the route.

Y/n stares at him silently, almost closing her eyes again, when she hears an angry exhale.

“Y/n” Peter called out, trying to keep his cool in a place he didn't know and almost out of gas. “You gave me the wrong directions. Three times. We were supposed to be at your house in no more than 20 minutes, and we've been there for 50 MINUTES!” Peter stares at her with his eyebrows drawn together.

“I told you I was sleepy.” The girl retorts, denying blame for the accident.

“And I asked you to keep an eye on your cell phone, dammit!” Peter exclaims, causing her to revolt.

“Why didn't you look at it yourself?” She asks.

“BECAUSE I'M DRIVING!”

“But you can answer messages while you're swinging your webs from building to building.” Y/n points out, making the older man roll his eyes and deny it with his head.

“Y/n, that's completely different.” Peter explains angrily, picking up the girl's cell phone again and redirecting the address so that he can take the quickest route.

The brunette nods, backing out of the empty street he was on so that he could go back a few blocks, but before he could complete his redefined route, the car stops. Y/n stares at the dashboard, seeing that the gas has run out. Peter turns off the car, raises his arms in redemption of the situation, looks up at the roof of the car, but then closes his eyes.

“You're a terrible co-pilot. The worst I've ever had.” Peter finally says something, unable to express any reaction on his face.

“You're not the perfect companion for a show either, if you ask me.” Y/n crosses her arms.

Typical Stark response

Peter laughs to himself, not believing that even though he was wrong, Y/n wouldn't accept his mistake but would try to fix it as quickly as possible before there was another flaw to point out. Y/n picks up her cell phone from Peter's lap, going to her contact list to call Happy, and without success returning the call, she puts the phone in his lap.

“Congratulations.” Peter looks at her seriously.

“Shut up, I'm trying to sort it out, but Happy's not answering.” Y/n retorts.

“You're always like that. Always.” Peter takes off his seatbelt and turns his body towards Y/n, who is glaring at him. “You hate being wrong, and you'd rather say you've made a mistake. You love drama, but you'd rather say you're growing up. Always a fucking excuse.”

“And you love bad-mouthing me, don't you? Wow, look at me, I'm Spider-Man and I lick the balls of all the Avengers for approval because if I'm not an Avenger, I'm just a nerd with no friends.” Y/n takes off his seatbelt, rebutting rigorously.

“You want to talk about me? At least the friends I have aren't with me for money. Unlike yours, who only put up with you because you're rich and can go out to expensive places. Putting up with you sucks, and that's why you don't have a boyfriend.” Peter spits out the words, feeling the car get hot.

“And you have a girlfriend? Because as far as I know, MJ dumped you.” Y/n remembers overhearing Peter talking on his cell phone, telling his best friend about it.

“You're…” Peter returns to his starting position, crossing his arms and running his fingers through his curly hair.

“What am I?” Y/n asks.

Before he could answer, the girl's cell phone vibrated. Turning the bright screen, she answered Happy's call, telling him what had happened and that she needed him to come and pick them up. Peter listened to the call, staring at the windows, analyzing whether there was any possible danger to Y/n in that little-trafficked street. As much as he hated it, he needed to keep her safe. A few seconds into the call, the girl said:

“He said he'd try to come as soon as possible.”

“Good.” Peter lay back on the car seat, relaxing his back and closing his eyes in the hope that he could doze off.

“Are you going to sleep? What if someone wants to rob us?” Y/n puts his bag between his feet.

“The Avengers' ball-licker will let Daddy's little girl sort it out. She's old enough to sort out her own shit, don't you think?” Peter puts his hands behind his head, flexing the muscles in his arm.

Y/n scoffs at the boy, doing the same as him and lying down on her stool. They both enjoyed the sound of the city, also listening to some trees with their leaves flapping in the empty night. It was a corner with a few abandoned houses and a one-way street where few cars were parked. Y/n curled up on the bench, turning to Peter. The boy had his sculpted body lying on the bench, where his shirt was slightly raised, showing his V-line above his dark-wash jeans. A feeling of regret began to well up in her heart, making her feel bad about the comments she had made to Peter. Still trying to put her pride aside, she says:

“I'm sorry for what I said. You're in the Avengers because you deserve to be.” Y/n comments, causing the boy to quickly open his eyes.

For the first time in the many times he had been with Y/n, he felt that what she was saying wasn't arrogance. In fact, it was very real and sensitive. He turned his body to the side of the bench, allowing his ribs to now meet the hard bench. Her eyes shone with innocence and regret, making it almost impossible not to answer her.

“I'm sorry too for shouting. I know you were tired.” He says. “And… for saying you were spoiled. I know you're not. I say that because sometimes you don't know how to handle certain situations very well, but you learn little by little.”

Y/n smiles without showing her teeth.

“Thanks, and I'm sorry about you and MJ.” She adds. “I know you liked her, like, a lot.”

“Thanks.” He replies with a straight smile. “Do you want to sleep? I can watch, no problem.”

“I lost sleep.” Y/n assumes, using his hand as a pillow to support the side of his face.

“Me too.”

“You're nice. I like you, no matter how much we get into chasing each other.” The girl assumes, without making eye contact with the hero.

“I don't even know why we do it, really. I don't hate you, and I know you don't hate me either.” The boy says. “Actually, if we worked together, we could be a cool duo, but without one of us bossing the other around, or I'd go crazy and glue your mouth shut with my webs."

“I do that on purpose.” She laughs at the older man's comment. “My fun is fighting with you.”

“More fun than being the daughter of a billionaire?”

“Absolutely. I have my father's temper, and you're calm. So testing your temper is my fun of the day. Especially when we're training together, and I win by cheating. You totally lose your sense of self.” Y/n laughs to herself, watching Peter join her in laughter.

“You're terrible. Really.” Peter comments. “But I like that.” He points at himself and Y/n.

“Are you hitting on me, Parker?” The girl asks smugly.

“If I was hitting on you, I'd be closer to you, I'd make you feel seen, you know?” He replies, flexing his jaw as he answers.

“The invisible guy making someone be seen?” Y/n laughs at the irony.

“I mean, paying attention.” Peter explains

“ And then what?”

“And why do you want to know?” Peter instigates.

“I'm just curious how you win girls over with your shy way.”

“I have my charm.” He snorts, pulling a grimace from Y/n.

“Really?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” He laughs. ”But I try, and it works sometimes.”

“And when it does, what happens?”

He stares at her, as if he's telling her the answer through his eyes. Maybe it was the mood, the confessions or the euphoria of the show that still remained in both their bodies, but something seemed to be different. The silence was no longer awkward, but a warm feeling enveloped the couple. Their minds were no longer focused on arguing, and not even arguing about useless things that could ruin what was being built. Y/n swallows dryly, as Peter's chocolate eyes drift briefly to her wet lips. Peter tried to get closer to Y/n without her realizing he was doing the same. Their breaths seemed to merge, and without there being any room for shame, Peter slipped one of his free hands around Y/n's mouth, pulling her into a shy kiss.

The girl felt his lips pull away after a quick kiss, but hers begged for more. Y/n put both her hands on Peter's cheeks, bringing him closer to her. The hero opened his mouth little by little, sliding his tongue in carefully so as not to exceed any mental limit set by Y/n. The girl loses all her pride, pulling away from the kiss while still feeling his warm lips.

“Can i…" She tries to say.

“Yes, please.” He replied as if reading her mind, straightening his legs and giving her room to climb onto his lap.

Their breasts met in the heat of the moment, while Y/n's pelvic region tried not to meet Peter's, for fear of making him uncomfortable. But the brunette's hands firmly touched Y/n's waist, bringing her warm core between his legs, in a response of irregular breathing. Parker would be lying if he said that he had never fantasized about Y/n Stark, since her beauty was undeniable and sexy, but not even in his best dreams could he have imagined that she would be on his lap kissing him. Once again their lips met in a carnal hunger where there was no longer any shame. Peter held her as if he didn't want her to go anywhere, and Y/n's mind never wandered, as if he were now part of her.

Y/n found the seat lever, pulled it so that the seat had room to return to its upright shape. Peter made room for her back, without taking his lips off the girl.

“We should have done this before.” Y/n commented between kisses.

“I agree.” He replied, kissing her again fervently.

Suddenly, a loud horn draws their attention and they quickly separate their lips. Looking up at the window, there was Happy watching them with the window down. Y/n pressed the button that lowered the window, staring at his father's helper with his cheeks burning as Peter's were.

“Hi, Happy.” Peter says, trying to ease the hot atmosphere with his messy hair.

“Don't tell my dad.” Y/n asks, still on Peter's lap.

“If you promised me that you didn't leave any residue in this car, I won't tell him nothing."

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

craziest thought: what if arkham knight and redhood are twins?

RH is Jason the older twin, AK is Jayce the younger twin

They both were adopted by Bruce and became Robin and Redstart respectively, Batman's Wonder Twins. The twins met Reader in Gotham Academy, saving them from a bunch of guys asking for your number. From there, the three became a tight knit group.

Then, disaster struck when Robin and Redstart had to seperate for a while because of different missions. Jason stayed in Gotham, Jayce went to a different country.

Jason found a lead about his mother and track it down only to get captured by the Joker.

When Jayce came back, it was to a home with a dead twin. Filled with anger, he tries to get revenge only to be stopped by Batman. Tensions were high, Jayce became even more angry and frustrated at his family. The only good thing in his life now was you, but your presence was not enough to calm his rage. Maybe in another world, if you tried harder, you could prevent Jayce from taking the path of revenge but this world is not that world.

Just like his twin, Jayce got caught by the Joker and went through hell.

"Two birds in one stone! Or should I say crowbar?" Joker laughs, a bloody crowbar in his hand.

Batman's spirit has never been as crushed as this moment, watching the video Joker sent to him of Jayce being tortured with the same crowbar that killed Jason.

You became a ahadow of yourself. Two of your best friends died one after the other. All the naive hope and determination left in you died like a little candle light after hearing about Jayce's death.

End Scene.

i'm fasting right now so all sorts of ideas are cooking in my brain. honestly i just want to see RH and AK duking it out for you but then this happened lol anyways thank you and congrats on your followers milestone!!

ooooooooooohhhhhh, OW! Ugh, this AU is just– wow– I'm so invested. There's so much angst potential here and the way this brain worm has not left my head since you dropped this in my inbox!

Just– you went from having the world, two best friends that you would do anything for (and they would do the same for you) and now you're left with nothing but twin gravestones?? Frothing at the mouth and unwell.

It's almost worse when they do come back, because neither of them are the same. Of course they have similar goals, a desire for revenge, but they aren't the boys you spent every single second of your day with. You think they would work together, but they're angry at everybody, angry at each other, and I would even say they're angry at you.

Jason is angry nothing changed when he died, he's angry that you didn't do enough to save his brother. But he's also angry at AK for leaving you behind, for falling for the same trap he did.

AK is angry that you didn't find him– that no one found him. He blames everyone for not being enough to help when he was mourning his brother. And he's so angry that his older brother– the one who got the mantle of Robin– let himself get killed.

But anger doesn't change the fact that you're still you. You were (are?) their best friend, and that starts to twist you into some sort of prize. If they can get you on their side, doesn't that prove that they're in the right? It's a mockery of how they used to argue over your opinions as children. But none of you are kids anymore, and now there's a war with too many sides in Gotham that you're stuck in the middle of.

And you hate that they expect you to choose, you're angry too. You don't want to choose– wouldn't want to even if they were the same as they were before. Even if you could choose, your options are between a crime lord and the head of a militia, and who knows what would happen to you if you gave into either of them.

But don't get it wrong, you want to help them, you miss them more than anything. And there's really only a handful of people who understand that, so if you go running to Wayne Manor in hopes of finding a better way, well, let's just say it never crossed your mind how that would affect them.

[emmyrosee]

Hi Emmy! I hope you are doing great. I love your writing and it genuinely makes me smile through tough times. I am currently studying for the mcat and it is taking a toll on me mentally and really testing my academic abilities to the point where it is overwhelming and I can't push myself to study (ahh sorry for the rant 😭). Anyway, if it is okay, could you write a comfort fic with akaashi keiji and him comforting you (reader) through something like this? Obviously you are not obligated to do so, so do not feel any pressure!! Thank you for turning my gloomy days a little brighter with your brilliant work!

YOURE ACTUALLY THE SWEETEST EVER AND IM GLAD MY PIECES ARE ABLE TO GIVE YOU A SENSE OF COMFORT WHILE YOURE WORKING SO HARD 🥺❤️

---

Your eyes water as your palm comes up to rub at them for the nth time that hour, reminding you that you've been plopped in this chair for who knows how long.

Too long.

You would sit and ponder just how long you've been here, just staring, but when you let your mind go there, your eyes sting and your bottom lip wobbles, and you don't have the energy to cry, nor the time to, if the bright light of your phone that flashes with a notification every few minutes is anything to go by.

You offer a shaky sigh, then go back to your laptop, fingers fatigued and heavy from the hours you’ve spent typing your life away. Nothing can prepare you, however, for the gentle feeling of fingers slipping over your shoulder and gently massaging, fingertips rolling into the tense knots just under the surface of the skin. You hum in relief and flutter your eyes shut as you lean your head back, gently resting against Keiji’s stomach. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” you mewl, stretching softly. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he chuckles. His thumbs squash into your shoulder blades and you wince softly at the pressure. “Hows studying going?”

“Terrible,” you whimper, and god, the wobble in your lip returns, and your eyes screw shut to try and block out the sting of tears biting at your waterline. “I… don’t want to study anymore, Keiji…”

“So don’t, my love,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Just work your way out of focus mode and come be with me.”

“I can’t,” you sniffle. Then, your breathing escalates, “Keiji I can’t fail this, there’s no option there, I need to finish this, I need to pass-“

“Hey, hey,” he says, moving his hands up to gently cover your eyes with his hands, touch light and warm and the sudden weight across your exhausted vision welcome. “You’re going to do well, my love. You’re doing very well.”

“I don’t care,” you whimper. “I need to not fail.”

“You’re not going to fail,” he whispers, gently kissing your head again. “You’re just so tired, your brain is about to have a meltdown. You need to take a break.”

“I don’t have time for a break-“

“Make time,” he says, stern but loving. “Come on. Just some water. Let’s go drink some water, and then if you want to come back here and rot, I’ll let you.”

You sniffle. You try to think your exhausted brain back to the last time you even looked at a glass of water, let alone did anything, and you offer him a shaky sigh and slowly push out your chair. He steps aside to give you some room, and as you make a move to stand up, your knees buckle slightly.

“Woah,” he says, chuckling softly. “Get your legs back. Then we’ll go, yeah?” You nod and take a deep breath, trying to force your knees to stop being jelly and stand up straight. You feel ridiculous, unable to even stand properly, and frustration brews inside of you again as you struggle step by step.

“Let me go, Keiji.”

“Not until you can stand.”

“I can stand fine!”

“No, you can’t,” he says calmly. “And that’s okay. I’ll always be here to help you up.”

With that, a dam breaks. You let out a shaky sob and wail into the air, letting out hours of agony and despair from lack of confidence and determination, beating yourself up for not fully grasping a topic and cursing yourself for the field you picked. It’s not fair, this isn’t fair, and-

“Hey,” he says softly, snapping you out of your spiral. “What’s 2+2?”

“What?”

“What’s 2+2?”

“Uh…. 4?”

“Okay- what’s 3x3?”

“9?”

“Okay. So what’s 6x4?”

“Keiji, what’re you doing?”

“Helping your brain rewire itself,” he says firmly. “You’re so deep in your head that you can’t think of anything other than your spiral, so im guiding you out of it. What’s 6x4?”

“Uhm… 24.”

You hate to admit it, but it’s working. The basic math helps your brain focus on answering him, rather than the screams and howls in your brain. You sniffle and rest against him, legs slowly coming to life as you straighten up, little whispers of math questions helping you get your footing and mind back to a semi-stable state. You sigh shakily and answer each math problem calmly, and with time, you finally look up at him and sigh, “I don’t want to study anymore.”

“Let’s call it a night, okay?” He offers. “I’ll stop working too. We’ll have something to eat, drink some water, and take it one step at a time, okay?”

“Together?”

“Together.”

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ 3 idiots in love .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Ace Trappola x Deuce Spade x gn! reader

𓏵 1032 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, they/them pronouns used (once), fluff, polyfidelity!

first time writing 3 ppl together, hope I did well (-ω-；) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

You were the ADeuce duo’s partner-in-crime; whenever they acted recklessly and caused trouble, you were always at the scene—whether reluctantly or not. It was practically a law of nature at this point. If Ace and Deuce were up to something dumb, you were either stopping them, helping them, or, more often than not, getting dragged into the chaos.

Which was exactly why you were currently seated in the Heartslabyul lounge, staring at them with mild suspicion as they fidgeted across from you.

Ace had his usual cocky smirk, but there was a nervous edge to it, like he was overcompensating. Deuce, on the other hand, looked like he was preparing for an intense training session with Vargas, sitting stiffly with his hands clenched into fists on his lap.

“Alright,” you said, folding your arms. “What did you two do this time?”

Ace scoffed, placing a hand on his chest as if you had deeply offended him. “Wow. Wow. Do you really think we’d drag you here just because we caused trouble?”

“Yes,” you and Deuce said at the same time.

Ace rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he cleared his throat and exchanged a quick glance with Deuce—one that, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by you.

You squinted at them. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”

Deuce straightened his back even more (which you didn’t think was physically possible), sucking in a deep breath like he was about to say something important. But just as he opened his mouth—

“Wait, wait, I’m supposed to go first!” Ace cut in, shooting him a glare.

“What?! No, we agreed that I would start!” Deuce shot back, looking scandalized.

Ace groaned. “Bro, rock-paper-scissors isn’t a legal contract!”

“It is when we both agreed to follow the outcome!”

You blinked. “What...?”

Ace turned back to you, suddenly looking just as tense as Deuce. “Okay, listen. Forget that. What I was trying to say is—”

“—That we both like you,” Deuce interrupted, crossing his arms with a determined nod.

Ace gasped dramatically. “Dude! You just ruined my build-up!”

“Why were you building it up?! We agreed to confess together!”

“Yeah, but in order!”

You stared at them, mouth slightly open, trying to process the absolute nonsense happening in front of you. “...What.”

Ace huffed, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, okay, let me explain before you think we’re total weirdos—”

“Too late,” you mumbled.

“—We both like you,” Ace continued, ignoring you. “Like, a lot. But since we both do, we figured it would be dumb to make you choose between us, and we didn’t wanna get into some tragic ‘best friends turned love rivals’ situation.”

Deuce nodded, looking serious. “So we came up with a plan to confess at the same time. That way, you don’t feel pressured, and we can just… you know, figure it out together if you like us back.”

You blinked again. “That’s... actually really sweet.”

Ace grinned. “Of course it is! It was my idea.”

Deuce glared. “We came up with it together.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ace waved him off before looking at you again, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. “But seriously. We like you. A lot. And if you’d rather just be friends, that’s totally cool. But if you do like us back, we’d be down to, y’know... try this whole thing together. The three of us.”

Deuce nodded, his face tinged pink. “You don’t have to answer right away, either! We just… wanted to be honest.”

You looked between them, your two idiot best friends who had somehow come up with the most convoluted yet oddly heartfelt confession plan ever. And despite their bickering, despite the messiness of it all—there was nothing but sincerity in their faces.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Ace smirked. “Yeah, but that’s why you like us, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. "I mean… yeah," you admitted, crossing your arms. "You two are ridiculous, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you, too."

Ace’s smirk faltered for half a second before it returned, bigger and cockier than before. "Hah! Knew it. I told you, Deuce, they were totally into us."

Deuce’s face went completely red. "Wait—really? You’re not just messing with us?"

You raised a brow. "Why would I joke about this?"

"I don’t know, maybe because Ace does it all the time?"

Ace gasped, clutching his chest. "Wow. You wound me."

Deuce ignored him, turning his full attention back to you. His hands clenched at his sides, like he was still trying to process everything. "So… you actually like us. Like, both of us?"

You let out a laugh. "Yes, Deuce. I like both of you."

Deuce blinked, his face still burning, but there was something soft in his expression—something like relief. Ace, meanwhile, had leaned back, hands behind his head, but the tips of his ears were definitely pink.

"Okay, cool, cool. So, uh, what now?" Ace asked, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

You tilted your head, amused. "Shouldn’t you two have planned that part out, too?"

Deuce groaned. "I told you we should’ve thought ahead!"

"Yeah, well, I was too busy making sure we didn’t sound like total losers, which, by the way, you nearly ruined by blurting it out early," Ace shot back.

"You were taking too long!"

You laughed, cutting off their bickering before it escalated. "How about this? Let’s just… keep things the way they are for now. We don’t have to rush into anything. We can just figure it out together."

Ace and Deuce both paused, looking at you.

"...That’s actually a really good idea," Deuce admitted.

Ace smirked. "See? This is why we like you. You’re way smarter than us."

"Not a high bar to clear," you teased.

"Hey!"

Deuce chuckled, and for a moment, all three of you just sat there, basking in the ridiculousness of what had just happened. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some grand, romantic moment. But it was yours—messy, chaotic, and kind of dumb, just like the three of you.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wendichester]

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒cursed love,

summary. love conquers all. or does it?

pairing. sam winchester x reader ; angsty

wordcount. 656

It starts with a sharp, searing jolt when Sam grabs your arm to pull you away from the hex bag. You gasp, jerking back instinctively, and he stumbles away too, clutching his hand as if he’s been burned.

“What the hell was that?” you manage, cradling your arm.

Sam’s eyes are wide with alarm, flicking from you to the cursed object now lying harmlessly on the ground. “I—I don’t know,” he says, his voice tight. He steps toward you, reaching out, but hesitates mid-motion. “Did that… hurt you?”

“Yes,” you say, the pain still fresh and raw. “Did it hurt you?”

Sam nods grimly, his brow furrowing. “Yeah.”

Realization dawns like a slow, cruel dawn. The witch. Her smug smile flashes in your mind before she vanished into thin air, her parting words sharp as a blade: “Enjoy your little love story while you can.”

“Sam,” you whisper, your throat tightening. “I think she cursed us.”

His face darkens, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he processes what this means. “No,” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, we’ll figure this out. We always do.”

But hours later, after scouring every book, every scrap of lore Bobby had, and everything the Man of Letters had in the bunker, you’re no closer to breaking the curse. The truth hangs heavy between you: every touch, every brush of skin, now brings unbearable pain.

You sit slumped on the couch, your arms wrapped around yourself to keep from reaching for Sam, who paces the room like a caged animal. He’s barely said a word, but his face says it all—he’s terrified.

“Sam,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

He stops mid-stride, his eyes locking onto yours.

“We’ll figure it out,” you say, forcing a smile that you don’t feel.

His expression crumbles, and for the first time, he looks utterly lost. “What if we don’t?”

“Don’t go there—”

“No, listen to me.” His voice is raw now, like it’s costing him everything to keep it steady. “What if we don’t find a way to fix this? What if… what if I can’t touch you ever again?”

Your heart aches at the crack in his voice, and you want nothing more than to reach out to him, to comfort him, but you don’t dare.

“We will,” you insist.

“But what if we don’t?” he repeats, his frustration breaking through. “You mean everything to me. How am I supposed to—” He cuts himself off, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Sam…”

He takes a shaky breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “I can’t lose you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’d rather live with the pain than live without you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over. You press your hands to your face, your shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Sam says, his voice breaking as he kneels in front of you, keeping a careful distance. “Don’t cry, please. We’ll get through this. I’ll find a way. I swear.”

You drop your hands, looking at him through blurred vision. “I don’t care about the pain either,” you say, your voice trembling. “I just… I can’t stand not being close to you.”

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the distance between you feeling like an uncrossable chasm. But then Sam clenches his fists, his jaw tightening with determination.

“I’ll fix this,” he vows, his hazel eyes burning with resolve. “Even if it takes everything I’ve got.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay,” you whisper.

And as he rises to his feet, you see it in his eyes—the sheer willpower that has saved countless lives, that has pulled both of you through the darkest moments. If anyone can find a way to break this curse, it’s Sam.

But until then, all you can do is endure.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie

[spiderman2-99]

[03.25.2098 - I.]

"What the hell do you want? This better be important, or I swear to God-"

"Oh, calm your tits, it's just me," LYLA's voice rings out, nonplussed in the face of Miguel's more-caffeine-and-sleep-deprivation-than-usual induced snappishness.

Despite the lightheartedness of her words, she sounds tired. How an AI can be tired is beyond Miguel, and he's the man who programmed her. But whatever. The massive project they've been poring over the last few weeks has taken a clear toll.

Not like Miguel could be calm at this state-- couple days sleep-deprived with the eye bags and pallor to show for it, eating irregularly (worse than usual), hair an unstyled wreck, his hands and arms weary and shaking. The picture of a man who'd clearly holed himself up in his office and done nothing but work himself to shit.

But as far as he cares, he has bigger problems than sleep and food. He’s been obsessed with this little passion project for weeks. And if it works... it'll be worth it. It'll all be worth it.

"I just wired more of your calls to Jessica like you asked me to," the AI continues, "Nothing important came up."

“Thanks.” His voice is hoarse, his hands twitch, and his eyes are bloodshot from staring at screens almost nonstop. But he refuses to stop. He'll be damned if he gives up now.

Miguel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and tries to focus on the project on his screen. But it's hard. So hard. His mind feels sluggish and slow; overheated and abused worse than his overworked computers.

“Why can't I get the rigging right? Ugh. Lyls. How many of my files have you used? I need more.”

"Hush. I'm trying to find better footage of her. Sweet Jesus, I forgot how many videos you've taken of her," she trails off, scouring the clogged folders. It's like ever since Miguel inserted himself into another life, he'd been determined to catalogue every single last moment out of some desperate hope that if he'd just catalogued it all, it'd be enough proof to convince whatever powers that be he belonged.

"If this isn't a thousand percent perfect, you'll lose your shit, and I am not letting it be my fault."

At her words, Miguel’s gaze goes dark, and his jaw clenches.

He can already feel the familiar tightness in his chest; the guilt and anger towards himself rising up, as if he’s been slapped.

But he shoves it down, down, down, until the sting abates. He’s too tired to have yet another guilt-trip.

After a long moment, he asks, “you don’t think this was a mistake, do you?”

Miguel looks over his shoulder at LYLA's holo, floating in mid-air surrounded by her own screens. He doesn't know what he's asking for; not really. Permission? Absolution? Salvation?

The silence that follows is unnerving.

“Your life. Your time. I didn’t enable or discourage it," she responds.

Her form disappears, but he knows she’s still on. Various holographic screens pop up, all of old footage of Gabriella that LYLA is painstakingly poring through.

The screens, the memories, the reminders of a happy life he didn't deserve attached all make his chest tight, clawing through his ribcage and squeezing at the organ beating inside, but that's not the only thing that sets him on edge.

It’s the fact that LYLA isn’t discouraging this that’s so concerning. The idea that she’s just... letting him do this, with no real opinion.

His jaw clenches and he looks back at his own screen, resuming typing. If his arms tremble, he ignores that along with everything else.

“You usually tell me if you think I’m insane.” He can’t help but tack it on, his voice bitter and accusing. She certainly did when he first shat out the idea of inserting himself, and look where him bulldozing ahead anyways got him.

“Oh, you are,” she says, her voice coming from all around this time; the way it always does when she’s ‘gone into’ the main computer. “But I think we all knew that.”

[michanvalentine]

This post is going to be a bit heavy and boring. I'll talk about Astarion, but also about real life, so if you're not interested, scroll away without hesitation!

So, lately, I've been pretty pissed off. I feel like I'm being made fun of by certain comments I see around regarding Astarion's redemption arc—how I supposedly have some kind of "Florence Nightingale syndrome" that makes me want to "fix" him with the power of my love (a syndrome that, in real life, would obviously put my own life at risk) and how I’m supposedly willing to justify anything he does just because he's traumatized. Seriously? So I must be some kind of idiot, a lovestruck teenager who knows nothing about how the world works, who's never stepped outside her house, who's never had a healthy relationship, and so on. And that pisses me off. Because maybe, just maybe, I know something more, not less.

And that’s exactly why I read between the lines, why I don’t judge instantly, and why I don’t delude myself into believing in the power of love as some kind of absolute force that magically fixes everything just because. Maybe the love we're talking about here has nothing to do with romanticizing (butterflies in the stomach, kisses and cuddles, "I’m the only one for him, and for me he’ll do this or that") a horrific situation—one where a man has been mentally and physically broken, one that comes with a whole range of possible unhealthy behaviors that could be dangerous to himself and others.

Maybe we’re talking about something more real, about lived experiences, about how people can support and help each other crawl out of the darkness. About how love simply means being there, without necessarily doing anything. In both good times and bad, because healing isn’t a straight line. There are ups and downs. Love means being aware of the struggles and working hard on them, it means listening, accepting, waiting, being patient. It means pushing back when necessary, confronting the person you love, and stopping them from hurting themselves. It also means giving up, running away, screaming at the sky, and then coming back more determined than before—even knowing you might have to start the process all over again.

Are the people who love this hard just idiots who think they can "fix" their loved ones with the power of love? And what if it were your child? Fuck no, I won’t accept that! That’s a message that cannot and must not spread, not when there are people out there fighting this battle every single day.

Sure, there are plenty of lost causes in this world, and yes, real danger exists. But the key is being able to recognize them. No one wants to be a martyr, but there will always be someone worth fighting for. Because yes, loving someone who struggles—with depression, personality disorders, eating disorders, anxiety, PTSD, etc.—is a fight. But that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve love.

And Spawn Astarion is not a lost cause. He comes from a background of every kind of abuse imaginable. He’s an asshole because he has to be (and he’s also a fucking vampire!), but then—something changes. Possibilities open up before him. And immediately, he shows he can adapt, that he can learn, that he wants to change.

And when that internal drive is there (that inner force of the individual himself, which makes all the difference in the world), you can’t and shouldn’t ignore it—even in real life.

It’s not about "fixing" someone. It’s about helping them feel better, about helping them achieve their goals (yes, their goals—even when they can’t quite articulate them), about changing in a healthier way, about healing. Because Spawn Astarion wants to live more than anything else. And he wants to do so fully, not as a broken man.

That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge tells him he just needs to find a place for himself, that he can find so many people willing to care for him if only he is willing to care for them. That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge reminds him—despite his fear, despite the intoxicating scent of blood—that maybe, just maybe, ascension isn’t what he truly wants. He approves. There’s no room for misinterpretation here—this is as sincere as it gets.

And in both cases, these situations are directly opposed to his obsession with taking Cazador’s place.

But, going back to the point—thinking that the power of love can magically fix everything is stupid. But we also cannot allow the message to spread that, in real life, a person who struggles due to trauma (and hell, it doesn’t even have to be torture in a dark dungeon—it could be something as "simple" as a profound loss) is incapable of healing or being loved, despite the difficulties. It’s not easy, but there are men and women in this world with immense strength and hearts big enough to do this and more.

If this isn't for you, fine. No one is forcing you. But make room for these heroes instead of spouting nonsense.

Now, fortunately, BG3 is a fantasy game where you can do literally anything, freely, even recklessly, without any real risk. And that’s fine—let’s have fun experimenting, living out our fantasies, being heroes (after all, we’re not actually picking up swords and charging into hordes of pissed-off goblins), becoming ultimate villains, bringing the world to its knees, killing anyone who gets in our way.

But when we bring real life into the discussion to make a point or compare it to the game, let’s do so with a little more thought and tact. Kindness is a virtue, not a flaw.

And to end on a lighter note—hell no, I don’t approve of everything Astarion says or does! I try to understand him, to grasp the many whys behind his actions, but if I had him in front of me, I’d straight-up say, "Oi, what the fuck are you doing?! Asshole!" I’d argue with him, I’d get mad at him—just like I did in my playthroughs.

And for the record, I never had to step off my heroic path to gain his approval. I simply disagreed with him when I felt it was right and treated him kindly when he needed it.

Honestly, earning his approval in this game is the easiest thing in the world—let him drink your blood, trust him (defend him from the other companions’ suspicions), let him decide how to handle his diet (which, honestly, is a fair compromise), tell the devil to go to hell (xP), and do something ridiculously stupid like giving him the necromancy book, interrupting the two ogres having sex, licking a goblin’s boots, and getting whipped a little—voilà! Suddenly, you have Astarion in your arms, and you haven’t even had time to save the druid grove yet.

In my very first playthrough, with my super-good Selûne cleric who was always helping the needy, I was actually trying to romance Shadowheart—when I somehow found myself magically in a relationship with Astarion just because I told him, "I care about you" (the same reason I didn’t let him bite the pervy drow). Lol.

Ok, I'll try not to make any more heavy posts like this. I feel a bit like a broken record, singing the same song over and over—sorry about that. And of course, have a great day, everyone! <3

[wisteriaiswriting]

Mercs S/O Disappears Completely

Words: 352

Request: Hi again :) I have one more suggestion for you. The mercs s/o disappear and is like gone from the face of Earth. How does the mercs react? If not all, then maybe Sniper, Engineer and Soldier

This is assuming the S/O is a civilian they keep in touch with (Featuring Soldier, Engineer, Sniper and Spy)

He notices either instantly or not for weeks, there's no inbetween.

When he does though he assumes the worst instantly.

“Those Commie scum think they can mess with us Americans and get away with it?”

He will disrupt the matches by leaving and searching for you, only to find nothing.

This man will slowly go insane, taking this out on the BLU team.

He’ll notice pretty quickly.

He tries not to act any differently around the others but it doesn’t work on a few of them.

Does anything he can to try find you but that turns out to be a dead end no matter what he does.

It does eventually get to a point where he realises his search becomes useless.

So he’ll try to go back to normal, with some difficulty obviously.

Keeps a few things of yours around, but puts the rest away.

It would take him a day or two to notice.

Due to being a busy man and not using technology much, he’ll kinda forget to check in, it definitely doesnt help if you don’t message much either.

When he does look, it’ll take him a minute to realise as your contact is gone.

He asks the others for help only for them to be no help as nothing turns up.

He’ll somehow become even more of a shut in.

Wants to throw out anything of yours to try stop the aching but in the end he shoves them into a box or two around the van.

Obviously this man notices almost instantly.

When you stop responding to the first message he’ll try to find out what happened.

He’s shocked when nothing turned up, especially when he found out everything about you was already wiped.

When your contact finally disappears he kinda goes into shock, and the other mercs notice it instantly.

Almost no more witty remarks, more determined to kill the field towards the enemy spy.

Even his selfcare happens less (Doesn’t completely stop, he knows you wouldnt appreciate it)

He tries to hold onto anything that reminds him of you and anything you left behind.

[inseobts]

Chains of the heart

charlotte katakuri x reader

you're being forced to marry big mom's son katakuri but the arrive of the strawhats will change everything. (WCI arc spoilers)

words count: 1.4k

tags: WCI spoilers, fight, forced marriage

masterlist // ko-fi

Your crew is ambushed by Big Mom’s fleet. Before you can do anything to stop it, Charlotte Katakuri appears, demanding you marry him to save your crew from Big Mom’s wrath.

"Marry you?” You scoff, eyes narrowing “I’m not some pawn to be used for your family’s gain.”

“I’m not asking,” Katakuri replies, his gaze unwavering. “This is Big Mom’s command. Refuse, and I’ll show you the consequences.”

Your crew’s lives hang in the balance, and the anger inside you boils. But there’s no choice. “Fine. But know this: I won’t go down without a fight.”

Katakuri gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. “I expect nothing less.”

As the days pass, the reality of the arrangement begins to sink in. You’re now living under Katakuri’s watchful eye, forced into a gilded cage. Every day feels suffocating, Katakuri and you don’t interact much, but there’s an underlying tension between you both. As days pass, you notice Katakuri’s quiet gestures—small acts of kindness like making sure your food is prepared to your liking, providing you with personal space, and even asking the cooks to make your favorite dishes.

One evening, as you sit in the grand dining hall, Katakuri silently places a small dish in front of you—a plate of desserts from the Totto Land kitchens. You eye it warily, not used to his quiet kindness.

“You ordered these?” you ask, not sure how to read his intentions.

“Big Mom insisted that you should be treated well,” he replies, not meeting your eyes. “Eat. It’s your favorite.”

You blink in surprise. “How do you know it’s my favorite?”

Katakuri looks up at you, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been watching.”

“Stalker” you tease, unable to help a small smile.

He doesn’t respond but the faintest hint of a blush colors his face.

The Straw Hats arrive on Whole Cake Island, and your world is turned upside down. Luffy’s loud voice rings in the distance, and you’re unsure of what to do.

One day you meet Luffy, Brook, Nami and Chooper. You know they’re here for Sanji and since you already met the blonde cook and befriend him, you decide to help them.

“I want to help you. He’s a funny guy and he helped me a few days ago, he made me feel less lonely, even in s situation this bad”

Nami looks at you with her sad eyes “what do you mean?”

You let out a sigh, feeling a strange pull to talk to them “Big Mom threatened my crew. I had no choice but to accept the marriage, or she would’ve killed them all.”

Chopper starts crying and sobbing he asks “Didn’t your crew tried to save you?”

“No, not really” you answer looking down “I don’t even know if they’re still my crew after all this and if I’m still their captain. I just hope they’re all alive and doing well”

Luffy’s face hardens for a moment before he grins “Well, what I know for sure is that you’re part of my crew now, too. We’ll get you out, just like our Sanji.”

After talking to Luffy, you feel a sense of determination growing inside you. You’ve been fighting for your freedom for so long, and now that Luffy is here, the plan begins to form.

Luffy’s voice rings with optimism, “We’ll break you out of this! You deserve better than a forced marriage.”

“You really think you can do that?” you ask, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

Luffy grins “No one gets left behind!”

You smile despite yourself “Thanks, Luffy. I’ll help you get Sanji back. And when the time comes, I’ll be leaving with you.”

You begin working with the Straw Hats to help them get Sanji back, all the while hiding your inner turmoil. Every interaction with Katakuri is strained, though you notice how he watches you carefully, almost protectively.

“You’re planning on leaving, aren’t you?” Katakuri asks one night, his voice quieter than usual. There’s something in his tone—almost like he’s resigned to it.

You meet his gaze, stubbornly “Yes, I am.”

“I’ll make sure your escape is… easier,” Katakuri says reluctantly. “But know this: if you leave, I won’t let you come back.”

You nod firmly, even tho your heart breaks a little, “If I leave, I’ll never come back”

You find yourself trapped in Luffy’s fight with Katakuri in the Mirror World is fierce. The tension between the two is palpable, and though you’ve spent much of your time fighting alongside the Straw Hats, you find yourself torn. Katakuri has shown you so much more than you expected—kindness, subtle care, and a level of respect that you never thought you’d receive from someone like him.

But since the start of this war you decided to side with the Straw Hats and you can’t change it now that it’s ending, even while watching Luffy push Katakuri to his limits. But you can’t resist anymore after seeing Katakuri vulnerability without his scarf, so you step forward, your voice shaking.

“Luffy!” you call out, running between the two “I think that’s enough, we should just leave now.”

Katakuri pushes himself to stand up and put an hand on your shoulder, “please move aside, I don’t need to be protected. And for the record, I’m fighting for you as well, y/n”

You look at him with regret, thinking that maybe you're doing it all wrong. But it's too late now, so you look at both of them, both determined to win, you nod and step aside to let them continue.

At the end of their fight you run towords Katakuri and try to help him but he gently grabs your wirst to stop you, "go, run away from here now that you can. Now I know that even out there, there will be someone who will protect you."

Now you feel the weight of your decision pressing down on you. Luffy’s words about freedom and loyalty ring in your ears, but a small voice inside you tells you that you’ve found something different with Katakuri. Something that’s real.

He let go of your wirst and turn his head to look away and avoid your eyes. You don't even have time to think that Luffy calls you to leave and you follow him but not without looking over Katakuri one last time and see his sister trying to help him. A sense of regret in you.

As the dust settles after the fight, Luffy and the others are ready to leave. You stand there, conflicted, caught between your past and the future that beckons with the Strawhats. You see the freedom in their eyes, the unrelenting will to fight for what’s right, and you feel that same fire inside yourself.

But when your eyes land on Katakuri, you realize the truth. The connection between you both isn’t just duty anymore—it’s something deeper, something worth fighting for.

“I’m staying” you say, your voice steady and sure.

Luffy looks at you, understanding in his eyes “I get it. You don’t have to explain it. But remember, you’ll always have a place with us.”

All the strawhats there smiling at you as to confirm their captain’s words.

You nod smiling at them, then turn to Katakuri, who’s watching you with that familiar, unreadable gaze. Slowly, he approaches, his usual reserved demeanor softening just enough to show that he respects your choice.

Katakuri finally looks at you, a mixture of confusion and relief crossing his face “You… You’re sure?”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest “I’m not staying out of obligation, Katakuri. I’m staying because I want to be here. With you.”

“I’ll protect you, y/n. I’ll make this marriage something real” Katakuri says, his voice almost tender.

Your heart swells with a strange mix of relief and uncertainty. But one thing is clear: you’ve chosen your path. And this time, it’s your choice.

The weeks pass, and with the battle over, a strange new peace settles between you and Katakuri. Your marriage, once forced, has evolved into something more.

One evening, as you sit across from him at dinner, you look up from your plate, meeting his eyes “You know,” you start, half-smiling, “this doesn’t feel so bad anymore.”

Katakuri’s lips twitch “I told you it wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

“You didn’t tell me anything,” you tease, grinning “you just kept being grumpy and mysterious. It wasn’t very helpful.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, but you notice the faintest smile tugging at his lips “And you didn’t make things easier either” he retorts, but there’s no heat in his words.

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand “So… I guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

Katakuri looks at you for a long moment, then, in his usual quiet way, says, “I suppose we are.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel something lighter—something that isn’t burdened by forced duty. Something that’s real.

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 009

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Fontaine, sexual assault, intention of killing Dion being a freak, swearing

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ummmm idk what to say about this. If this triggers you don't read this please

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The sound of the door slamming against the wall jolts you out of your thoughts, your heart immediately sinking as you see Fontaine standing there, his face twisted into a sickening mix of anger, lust and determination. Before you can react, hegrabs your arm and strides across the room, his steps quick and purposeful.

“Remember how I said you’re going to pay me back tenfold?” he sneers, forcing you onto the bed. His voice is low, venomous, filled with a desperation that chills you to your core as he straddles you, “You’re going to carry my child, and I’ll finally get back what’s mine. Father will have no choice but to make me his favorite again instead of that stupid bastard Dion. Impregnating his doll would make you a sight for sore eyes, and think about all the attention I would be giving you. I’m doing you a favour,”

Your mind races, panic flaring as you struggle beneath his weight. “Get off me!” you scream, your voice trembling but loud, hoping, praying that someone will hear. But the mansion is massive. Even with the door wide open, there’s no sound of approaching footsteps. Shit shit shit shit shit fuck! Tears start to well up in your eyes. I can’t cry now, but I can’t… I don’t wanna…

Fontaine presses down harder, his grip bruising your hips. “Stop struggling. This is happening whether you like it or not,”

Your fear morphs into rage, adrenaline flooding your veins. No. I am not going to let him do this. I’m not a coward! You manage to free one of your legs and, with as much force as you can muster, you kick him hard between the legs. Fontaine grunts in pain, his body jerking as he loosens his grip for a split second.

You push him off with every ounce of strength you have, scrambling to your feet and sprinting toward the open door. Your heart pounds in your chest as you race down the hallway, your bare feet slapping against the cold floor. You don’t dare look back, terrified that he’s right behind you.

When you round the corner, you collide with a tall figure standing in the middle of the corridor. Dion. He didn’t go back to his room? He’s just standing there, his eyes fixed on you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, you freeze, your panic spiking anew. Of all people to run into - Dion.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you yell out, tears now streaming down your face. “I’m sorry for ignoring you! I was mad! But still, help me! Fontaine - he- he tried to-”

You don’t even need to finish. The man’s gaze flickers to someone behind you, and the sharpness in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t speak, but his hand calmly drifts to the hilt of his sword which somehow feels more terrifying than any outburst.

Fontaine stumbles into view, his face a mix of fury and humiliation as he spots the two of you. “Dion,” he growls, his voice laced with venom. “This has nothing to do with you. Get out of the way.”

The tension in the hallway is suffocating. You press yourself against Dion’s back, your heart pounding as you watch the standoff unfold. Dion’s calm demeanor is unnerving, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of doubt. Will he actually help me? Or step out of the way. Your eyes trail to the hand resting on his sword. Maybe that’s for theatrics.

You both watch as Fontaine disappears down the corridor. You don’t know why he let you go, perhaps he didn’t want to deal with Lante’s punishments for inconveniencing his favourite son. The silence that follows is deafening.

You expect Dion to leave then, to walk away without a word like he always does. But instead, he turns to you, his eyes scanning your face. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. “I’m fine,” you say finally, your voice steadier than you feel. “I got away before he could... do anything,” you pause for a moment. “Although I’m surprised he managed to chase after me. I thought I kicked him pretty hard in the dick,” you manage to let out an airy laugh, trying to break the tension. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something you can’t quite name. You glance away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “Thank you. I’m sorry,” you murmur, though the words feel strange leaving your lips.

Before Dion can respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the corridor. You both turn to see Roxana approaching, her golden eyes blazing with fury. Her gaze flicks between you and Dion, her expression hardening as she takes in the scene.

“What happened?” she demands, her voice sharp.

You open your mouth to answer, but Dion speaks first. “Fontaine overstepped,” he says simply, his tone neutral.

Roxana narrows her eyes, stepping between the two of you as if to shield you from him. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she turns to you, her expression softening slightly. “Are you all right?”

You nod, though your hands are still trembling. “I’m fine. Dion stopped him.”

Roxana’s lips press into a thin line, her golden eyes flickering back to Dion. “Of course he did,” she says, her voice dripping with skepticism. “And what exactly were your motives, brother?”

Dion raises an eyebrow, his expression calm but cold. “Does it matter? The problem is dealt with.”

“It matters to me,” Roxana snaps.

For a moment, the two of them simply stare at each other, the tension between them almost palpable. You feel caught in the middle, unsure of what to say - or if you should say anything at all. Sheeeeeesssshhhh… this is awkward. You feel something wet drip onto your hand. You bring your hand slightly up, seeing a small circle of water on your palm, seeing it drip onto the floor when you angle your hand down. Oh, I was crying. When did that happen?

Finally, Dion sighs, his hand dropping from his sword. He turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until they fade into silence.

Roxana watches him go, her expression unreadable. Then she turns back to you, her golden eyes softening once more. “Come with me,” she says, her tone gentler now. “You need to rest.”

You hesitate, glancing in the direction Dion disappeared. Something about the way he looked at you lingers in your mind. But Roxana’s hand on your arm pulls you back to the present, and you let her lead you away.

As you follow her down the corridor, your thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions - fear, relief, confusion. Dion… he’s lowkey my biggest hear me out. Can’t believe he went from my favourite character to someone I actively avoided to my saviour. All in a week, might I add. I’m starting to think our opinions on this man aren’t actually true… he seems nice enough… the manhwa was from Roxana’s point of view, so we saw everything through her eyes. And in her eyes, Dion’s a bitch. Maybe he isn’t a bitch. Well, he is a bitch. Maybe he’s a nice bitch. I should probably make him cookies.

[columba1234]

Oliver Thistle 💚🕊🎻🌿 & Cherry Thistle ❤️⚔️🎸🍒

Music boy and Mercenary girl Oliver: violin and musical prodigy and nerd, serious and stuck-up on the outside but insane and rebellious on the inside. He is introverted, creative, disciplined and passionate about becoming a singer, conductor and violinist but hates being king (or anything related to leadership outside of conducting in general,). Oliver panics easily, is a perfectionist, and can be inconsiderate to others' needs. But if somebody asks him anything about music and violins in general; he would be delighted (but not to those ain't practising) . He's a waistcoat enthusiast like his great-grandfather (Victor - Oliver is Granpapa Thistle but more recessive and needs to be awakened lol)

Cherry: polar opposite of Oliver: laidback, not serious on the outside but is on the inside, aviation and ladybird nerd. Sporty and a natural warrior (she even has one as a pet and rides it as her "motorbike". And that ladybird later to be revelaed to be one of the canon characters in BAHLK, but wait and see) .She loves to rule and be the leader, extroverted and not as disciplined as her brother. Unlike Oliver who usually follows rules, Cherry likes to break them. She's not as stuck-up and perfectionistic as Oliver

Both of them are equally stubborn and competitive lol.

Their personalities can (and will) change in the development in my AU thought so treat it as a snapshot of the process.