#despite this knowledge they STILL pull this shit and it could only be the result of a detachment from reality

[iceyrukia]

This my *very* personal opinion but women who are male reformists ( the kind that love arguing with men on the internet) IMO tend to be women who don’t take women’s pain, suffering or oppression very seriously.

Or ironically, they can become that way.

It’s like they become so desensitized to male violence that even though they can bring up statistics and make good points to *own* men, they start to unintentionally perceive the women they talk about as mere pawns, subjects or talking points. Perhaps it’s the effect of social media which will inevitably turn discussion about any social justice issue this way but I think it’s especially true for a lot of “feminism” out there.

There’s this entertaining of a group of people (men) who “crossed the line” a loooong long time ago, to the point where zero conversation towards reconciliation and women retaliating violently towards men would 100% be justified - given how cruelly men have treated women. It all feels a bit scathing to see women humor these men as if they even deserve a conversation in the first place. And I think they do it because deep down these reformists want these misogynistic men to change their minds about women and ask for forgiveness, as if these ‘gender wars’ are just a big misunderstanding even though that certainly isn’t the case. Men didn’t subjugate women for more than a millennia with lukewarm feelings of “hatred” towards womankind but rather with ruthless disregard to women as human beings. A mentality still runs deep in men’s collective consciousness today with no signs of retreat. Men as a collectively don’t deserve any benefit of the doubt because when you have men who are willing to punch down of women despite already living in a male centric world, there’s nothing you can do to reform them.

[gelatonic]

oh my gosh! Your Percy smut was amazing, any chance you could write more? Still loser!percy but he’s your friend and you find out hes a virgin and hasn’t really kissed and you teach him how? Love love your writing🩷

loser!virgin!percy + f!reader :p in v, making out, unprotected sex 𓇼 ࣪ I understand u anon <3... smut!

it was obvious Percy didn't talk to girls. not because he didn't want to, it just seemed that every time he tried, he'd either get shot down or get laughed off. that's what he was expecting when he asked you, his friend, for help of the romantical sort.

"so you've never-?" you say, brows quirking in shock and near amusement as you half-smile, amused by his situation.

"no," he mumbles, arms shifting awkwardly around himself as he admits to you his inexperience, before glaring at you half-heartedly. "you can stop smiling now, its not that funny."

that's what led to you sitting him down on his bed, bringing his hands to the low of your back, and with your lips as you approach his face slowly. "can't believe you agreed to this," he says in a near-whisper before he slants up against your lips a little too carefully, too awkwardly as his lips remain very light against your own. he sort of knows how these things go, having seen couples on the street kiss and the tongue-fucking they do in the pornos, although never sure on how to do it himself.

the sort of timidness he has makes you pull away, making him follow your lips with a twangy whine. "oh. my. god. you really have never kissed, have you?" you giggle, making him flush and part his lips as if to defend himself, before you swooped back in salaciously.

your lips were more mature than his when it came to kissing games and played hard against his warmly, making him claw slightly at the back of your shirt with a sort of nervous excitement.

"oh, fuck," he groans, already getting going in his boxers from a half-assed makeout. the groan was tell-tale, resulting in you only putting yourself flush against him in his lap, chest to chest now as he started to lean into you, hips moving up with an impatient wriggle, causing you to stop.

his cheekbones dust pink as he notices just how hard he's gotten, moreover how you know how hard he's gotten. "sorry, I'm really sorry, I-i-" he's babbling, cutoff by you as you say, "do you wanna?"

with clothes discarded into a pool on the floor, you're letting him wring his ringed fingers in your hair as he starts to slowly sink into you like he's seen the guys do to the girls in the pornos he's educated himself on, all of it feeling much better than his own hand that he would use when he watched them. But the feeling of your gummy walls was too much, making him snap all the way in, making you hiss and squirm.

"Percy! you can't just do that-" cut off by him starting to move in and out of the plush of your pussy. "shit, fuck, I'm sorry baby, I know, I'm real sorry, you just feel too good-" he says amongst other unintelligible babbles as sloppily thrusts with no technique. his hands cling to your hips, keeping them in place from moving too much as his own sound against yours.

you can tell that he's never done this before, from the way the best feeling thing about him was the size of his dick filling you up. not that he cared, as he was too busy watching the way your tits would move and your mouth would let out those little moans.

despite his lack of knowledge in sex and all things surrounding it, he didn't seem to be doing that bad of a job, he thought, from the way your pussy kept sucking him back in. "oh, baby, please, pleaseplease let me cum inside, please," he's nearly crying as his thrusts become impossibly sloppier, his abdomen tightening. he's just never had anything as nearly good as your pussy before.

and he's seemed to have done the trick, because in your dick-dumbed state you nod, letting him shoot into you with pathetic whines and pads of his fingers bruising on your hips.

"thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou," he sighs in a blissed-out state, leaning down to press a kiss to you cunt before cuddling up next to you, making him and you sigh. he just loves how his sheets now smell like you.

"next time, I'll teach you about aftercare."

[a-really-bad-decision]

Look. I get that folks who are approaching the finale from this angle are usually doing so from a place of genuine good faith and love for Joel. But like. If your immediate reaction after finishing season 1 is to insist that the cure never could have been developed/distributed/tested/viable and that the Fireflies were stupid/naive/slapdicks/never could have accomplished it anyways, so Joel Definitely Did Nothing Wrong, I can’t help but feel like you’re wildly missing the point of it all.

Because like. Joel did not ever care if the cure could have worked. He did not care if it’s what Ellie might have wanted in that moment (neither did the fireflies of course, but they’re not the ones who traveled by her side, protected her, made her feel safe and cared about). Neither of these were ever a point of consideration in the finale. Ellie’s death and the resultant hypothetical cure could have had a guaranteed 100% success rate. It could have spread instantly, around the world the moment they removed her brain from her skull, turning every single runner, clicker, and bloater back to a healthy human being, with no deleterious side effect.

And Joel still would have shot that doctor point blank in the face.

Because that moment right there, is the point. To me at least. It’s the climax that the whole story has been building towards: a father’s beautiful, selfish decision to save his daughter at the literal cost of the entire world. And not just the world in an abstract sense, but in ways that carry weight to him on a deeply personal level. Tess’ dying wish. A real future for his niece or nephew. Ellie’s own agency in all of this. And he did it without hesitating for a moment.

Going from treating Ellie like cargo, like a clicker waiting to happen, to deciding that her life is more important to him than than any other human being who was or ever will be born? Regardless of whether it’s “““healthy”””, that’s an incredible fucking relationship arc. And it only has this level of gravity and meaning if there are genuine consequences to making that decision.

(And let me be clear here: none of this is a moral indictment of Joel. Joel’s motivations, actions, decisions etc. are all incredibly blatant, human, and relatable, and if he’d done anything but go on that rampage, it would have contradicted everything we know and understand about him so far. Also, he’s fucking fictional. Who gives a shit if he did a Kinda Amoral Thing. None of it is real, and it doesn’t matter)

The argument here isn’t that Fireflies Good And Smart And Can Totally Save The World For Sure Guys, or Joel Did Objectively Bad Thing And Is Unforgivable Bad Forever Now. The argument is that the show is much more interesting and internally consistent if you buy into the idea that there’s a chance, even a slim one, that the fireflies could have extracted a viable vaccine at the terrible cost of a fourteen year old girl’s life. That maybe Joel did prevent a cure from being made – that he potentially did doom the world for Ellie (or at least doomed it to another few decades of limping painfully by until something else came along). And that despite the cost, he pulled that trigger, brutally and without hesitation. He did it knowing that he’ll have to go on living with the knowledge of what he took from everyone, and how effortless it was to make that choice in spite of it all. That he’ll willingly betray Ellie’s trust as many times as he has to if it means keeping her from taking the burden of that guilt on herself, but also because he can’t bear the thought of her hating him if she learned the truth. And most of all (and in his own words), that if he was given the chance to go back and do it again, he would have made the exact same choice all over.

You take that out, and what kinda finale do you get now? A run and gun scene of a man rescuing a girl that he’s come to love, sure, but now it’s from a bunch of one dimensional, child murdering villains, set in a place they never had to go to, preceded by a journey that was rendered useless before they even left, all because there was never any chance of it working in the first place. Pointless roundabout cynicism, and an endpoint that now textually only existed to stick the protagonists in their get along sweater.

You don’t have to agree with this specific interpretation of the ending. I get that this can come across as a harsh reading of Joel, especially since he’s a character that myself and others genuinely like a lot. But that nitpicky fixation on proving that the cure never could have worked always felt more for the benefit of the uncomfortable player/viewer than as any sort of actual narrative improvement. A way to divest yourself of ever having to sit with the weight of either choice. Of having to think about the way that a secret so massive, sitting unspoken between you and a loved one, can rot that relationship. Of the way that someone you thought you trusted can act in your best interests, but against your own wishes.

And if that’s not what you want from the show, genuinely and without judgment: that’s fine. You keep doing you. I’m just not sure why you’re watching something like tlou otherwise.

[seriouslysam8]

Sometimes I think we forget the shit Harry went through. The way you explained it in this chapter just made me want to give Harry the biggest hug ever. His childhood was bad like Sirius, but in a way worse because he never really got a break at school, and despite all of it he’s such a great guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, loves to the fullest, and protects the people he loves with every fibre of his body. I don’t get why he has so many haters, how can people hate Harry Potter? I think a lot of people hated him because of what happened to Sirius. I get it, it was a huge mistake but if he was told about Voldemort being able to possess his mind and the prophecy then he wouldn’t have fallen for that trap. And as much as we loved Sirius can you imagine how devastating it was for Harry to lose the only person outside of the Weasley’s that cared for him? That gave him hope of having a family of his own. This was the main reason he broke up with Ginny in HBP. The fear that Voldemort would find out he loves her and then plant a false vision that would cause him to drop everything to save her but result in it actually hurting her or worse killing her.

This got me thinking in Brumous of Harry finds out Voldemort is still lurking in his mind without his knowledge and that’s how they found out Cepheus… this kid is going to be devastated. I think he would try to pull away from everyone and ask them not to tell him anything. Does Voldemort lurk in his mind when he’s with Ginny? I feel like he wouldn’t be able to because when he’s with Ginny he feels so loved and so much love for her that it would mentally hurt Voldemort to lurk in his mind like in OTP when Harry was willing to die so he could be with his loved ones.

I’m going to put on my completely amateur psychology hat for a few moments.

I don’t think people want Harry to be a kid. I don’t think they want him to act his age. I don’t think they enjoy characterizations where Harry acts like a teenager. It’s not just Harry I’ve seen this treatment of. I saw it in Legerdemain with Lily. People hated that she acted her age and wanted her to be more mature. I’ve seen it in Ron bashing because he had some jealousy issues AS A KID.

Here’s the thing. The human brain doesn’t stop developing until around age 25. So these characters aren’t adults. They don’t know everything. And they’re going to do/say stupid ass things. They’re going to act before they think. They’re going to think they know everything but they really don’t.

Even in Brumous, I’ve gotten reviews complaining about how Harry is annoying, too whiny, too clingy. But he’s also a severely neglected and abused kid who has an adult who cares about him for the first time ever. Of course, he’s clingy. Of course, he’s whiny because he wants to know what’s going on and make sure his only family is all right. Of course, he’s up Sirius’ ass because Sirius nearly drank himself to death while battling depression.

You can see the shift in Harry from OOTP to HBP. In OOTP, he was reckless with running his mouth and jumping into danger. In HBP, he tried to let the adults take the lead. He TOLD Remus about Malfoy in hopes that he’d do something. But like every other adult in his life (minus Sirius), he was told off. He was dismissed. Sirius was the only adult who ever worked out problems with Harry, who talked to Harry like he knew a little what he was talking about, and just listened to the kid.

Sirius isn’t a patient man. Sirius can be moody and grumpy and downright vicious. But with Harry, he’s like a saint with how patient he was! He let Harry ramble on for who knows how long in GOF while he’s in a fireplace of a house he broke into! He just let Harry talk and vent and didn’t even interrupt the kid. He was there for Harry no matter what. He had the patience with Harry to listen to him. Because Sirius knows what it’s like not to have someone listen to him. He knows what it’s like to have everyone dismiss him and paint him as a villain. Sirius can emphasize with the kid in a way no one else can - from his shitty childhood, to being hated for no fucking reason, to having people around him talk down to him as an adult.

On top of that, Sirius tried very hard not to be reckless. He did not leave Grimmauld Place for Order missions or joy rides. He stayed put to show Harry it’s all right to stay put and stay out of trouble. Because Sirius knows Harry. He knows the trouble he attracts. He was trying to emulate the behavior he wanted to see. But he left at the first hint of Harry in trouble because that kid can’t stay out of trouble to save his life.

In HBP, yeah, you see Harry breaking up with Ginny because he can’t bear the thought of her ending up dead like Sirius. He’s trying to learn from his mistakes and not make them again.

In Brumous, Sirius knows he can’t tell Harry how they found Cepheus, he can’t tell Harry about the Horcrux in his head, he can’t include Harry in conversations on where to go from here. He knows Harry. He knows how good Harry is and how big of a heart that kid has. He knows Harry would pack a bag and run from Hogwarts in an attempt to save the people he cares about. Sirius is constantly trying to set healthy boundaries between him and Harry. It’s so tricky because of Harry’s past abuse. Sirius is often cracking those boundaries to make sure Harry knows he’s loved and wanted.

But I think you’re right as well. A lot of people forget about Harry’s abuse. A lot of people like to downplay his abuse.

In the MIT series, I always had Harry not be a fully well-adjusted adult. He’s a helicopter parent. He was downright anxious. He hates cutesy nicknames because he was never called anything even remotely affectionate. He freaks out over dying and leaving his kids without a dad to the point where he becomes addicted to a potion. He purposely gets his son arrested because he views Albus as safer in prison than out in the open. He’s constantly taking charge and doing what he thinks is best because he’s done it since he was a fucking kid. I always say, even in MIT, I think he was too well-adjusted of an adult for everything he went through.

I cannot stand when Harry is this well-adjusted adult in stories who gives pet names and is overly happy. That guy suffered from the moment his parents died to the time he died. Those wounds from the mental and emotional abuse he suffered lasted his entire life. You can’t convince me that there wasn’t x-amount times he did something stupid and then thought this is it, Ginny is going to divorce me. To only be shocked when Ginny assured him that she’s not going anywhere and she does, in fact, love him despite how stupid he can be. No matter how many times his loved ones tell him, there’s always that small seed of doubt in his mind. Because how could anyone love him when his own family couldn’t love him when he was just a small toddler?

But I think I went off on a tangent. 😂😂😂

I don’t understand how anyone can hate Harry. I don’t understand how anyone can look at that cabbage and not want to hug him while he awkwardly pats your back and wishing you’d stop. He is such an amazing character and I love him.

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[ivymarquis]

Apex Predator Ch 1

Pairing; Jacob Seed x F!Rook

P:P; All plot for this chapter

Word Count; 5653

Tags; Character Death (and subsequent revival each time), Kidnapping, Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Knife Use

Summary;  The Deputy has a secret, and Jacob makes it his mission to bring her to heel.

Remember how I said I’m writing some dark stuff and I don’t want to hear any complaining about it? Yeah, this is it. There is no redemption arc to be found here, nor are healthy dynamics. This will be a match made in hell :)

Placed under the cut because I am a menace, but I am a considerate menace.

CC, or Rook as she was called around the station, wasn’t actually all that great at her job.

Now, yes she’d been perfectly serviceable in her position of Junior Deputy of the Hope County Police Department.

When the mantle of Hope County’s Savior had been foisted upon her, however? Not gonna lie- she sucked at it. 

 It was the hidden truth only she knew about; as far as anyone else knew she always got the results she set out for when she went to blow the Seed’s shit sky high.

The first time she died hadn’t been that long after Dutch had turned her loose- a trio of peggies got the jump on her because she wasn’t paying attention while scavenging a ranger station. Next thing she knew she was coming to with a blinding headache and blood splatter on the wall behind her that definitely wasn’t there when she’d first entered the room.

Not-dying was surreal; She could remember clear as day turning to see the trio who’d been standing behind her, one with their pistol pulled out. There was no monologuing- only a brief exchange before they pulled the trigger, CC seeing the flash of the muzzle bright against the starlight, and then it was dawn and her goddamn head was threatening to split in half.

CC didn’t realize what had happened at first- why would she? The only absolutes in life were death and taxes. She was very much not-dead, so she must not have died that night in the ranger station.

And then somewhere between her blowing up John’s silos and burning Faith’s Bliss fields to the damn ground a fire fight broke out and a bullet found its way between CC’s ribs.

Able to kill her attackers but unable to call for help, she staggered to the road clutching the bleeding wound. Her vision blurred, numbness creeping up as a chill settled deep in her gut. At a certain point she realized her time was up and she was going to bleed out on the side of the road.

Unable to fight the inevitable she slumped against a tree, staring down the roadway hoping some do-gooder on an ATV would pick that exact moment to cover that stretch of road.

No one came.

Hell, at that point Jacob Seed himself could be the one to stumble across her and she’d have no complaints. 

The chill creeped further up her bones and CC was tired. Her clothes were soaked in her own blood and her fingers were frozen and her eyes were so damn heavy. Every time she blinked it took more effort to open her eyes than the last.

Her eyes slipped shut and CC wasn’t cold anymore.

Once again the next thing she knew the sun was rising and there were two Cougars in front of her, inquiring what happened and if she needed help.

Confusion overwhelmed her (there was an intense disquiet in her gut screaming at her something was wrong) and she offered up no fight as they dragged her to an intern who couldn’t find a scratch on her despite her being soaked in her own blood.

So calling it not-dying wasn’t entirely accurate. There were no witnesses thus far so CC had no idea what happened to her body between death and reanimation, but one thing was for certain- she didn’t stay dead.

The knowledge that she somehow was able to resurrect herself did not lead CC to be bold or foolish in her endeavors- She might not stay dead, but she was still capable of dying which was incredibly painful the two times she’d done it.

At the very least, CC may not have been all that great at being the Savior of Hope County, but she learned from her mistakes and the intervals in which she died became less and less frequent. 

She’d also effectively turned herself into the fucking cryptid of Hope County.

The chatter on the Peggie radios was always fun to listen to; more than once she’d heard broadcasts made about her death, the hope that the resistance would crumble without her to spearhead their efforts. That chatter devolved into absolute chaos when she was spotted blowing up another outpost the next day.

The Heralds all wanted her head, wanted her squashed like a bug under their boot.

Joseph wanted her brought into the fold, and the three Heralds might acquiesce to that, but CC knew the desire was still there. 

John would happily carve her up like a Thanksgiving turkey given half a chance- he’d nearly drowned her in the Henbane and likely would have if not for Joseph’s intervention. 

Faith couldn’t stand CC. Claimed she was spoiled and petulant like a bratty child fighting the guiding hand of a parent who only wanted the best for her.

Jacob- well, CC hadn’t gotten into much trouble with him yet, but surely her number was coming up on that one.

At the moment, she was taking a breather from the mayhem she’d been causing to fish. Keeping an eye peeled as she cast her line, CC leaned against a tree near the shoreline as she watched the lure bob in the water.

Fighting a holy war was not for the faint of heart- a task she’d never thought herself capable of attaining, and yet finding herself rising up to meet it anyway. Not that she had much of a choice.

It was hard to let others go off on the suicide mission that was tackling the Seeds. No one else knew her little secret but CC did. The guilt would eat her alive.

CC couldn’t save everyone, but by God she would do what she could.

The lure lurched under the water, the exhausted deputy wrestling with a decently sized fish who was destined to become her lunch.

Unseasoned fish was not exactly the best thing she’d ever eaten, but it was food and sated the hunger gnawing at her. Finishing her meal and cleaning up after herself, CC contemplated her next move.

She’d been so busy harassing John and Faith, leaving the Whitetails alone- Trying to gather up the scattered pieces of a Resistance.

Eli, if she could find him, had been drumming up his own in the Mountains and giving Jacob hell all the while.

That was what she needed. But he was elusive- the location of the Wolf’s Den was the biggest kept secret of the Whitetail Militia, and something she needed to find if she was going to get a hold of the man. Being public enemy #1 on Jacob’s shit list (though CC no doubt would soon be competing for that spot) meant he was as reclusive as Dutch. He wasn’t going to tell her over the radio where to find him.

Maybe she’d luck out and find some Whitetails while exploring the mountains. She’d definitely be able to piss off the eldest Seed brother while she looked.

As much as CC tried to not let the whole not-dying thing go to her head and not take stupid risks, it was hard to ignore that little voice in the back of her head that told her ”Fuck it, what’s the worse that could happen?” Dying was an agonizing endeavor, but ultimately one she could bounce back from.

The second CC stepped foot over the boundary dividing the Whitetail Mountains, her mistake was in thinking that Jacob would be content to let her cause a certain amount of mayhem before trying to capture her like his siblings had.

No sooner than she was evaluating her options on how best to earn Eli’s attention, CC was completely unaware that she held the Soldier’s full and undivided attention.

At least until an arrow embedded itself in a tree 6 inches to her left.

Heart lurching in her throat, CC startled like a deer, bounding forward blindly. With no idea where she was running to and only an inkling of what she was running away from, the panic washed over her with the realization that she’d made a horrible mistake. 

Jacob wasn’t waiting for her to get under his skin like John or Faith. He was going to nip the problem that was Deputy Carlotta Crawford right in the bud before she got the chance to cause him problems.

Well, She thought to herself, He’s certainly welcome to try at least.

The sound of another arrow being released from a crossbow whistled through the air, CC grunting with exertion as she begged her legs to keep going. Her hip was on fire, struggling to keep her footing steady on the uneven terrain.

The voices of the hunters rang out behind her- bickering amongst themselves, unable to distinguish what they were saying but able to hear the tones of their words.

One more shot rang out, pain exploding in her thigh. 

Staggering to a halt, CC’s world spun and turned green as her gaze dropped to her legs. Much to her surprise, there wasn’t one arrow but two embedded in her. The one she’d felt land in her thigh, and the other in the opposite calf. The nerve damage from an accident years ago paired with adrenaline meant she hadn’t even felt the first one.

The exposure in Faith’s region had increased CC’s tolerance for Bliss- the reason she was able to keep going with the first arrow. Two Bliss arrows though? That would be enough to bring anyone to their knees.

CC’s legs gave out from under her, the ground rushing up to meet her.

Rolling to her back, everything was green, sparkles dancing off the corners of her vision.

“I told you I didn’t miss that second shot.”

“How the hell was she able to go that far with a Bliss arrow in her leg?”

“You’ve heard the stories. Woman doesn’t know how to lay down and die; Figure we’re just lucky she went down with the second arrow in her. Now come on, Jacob’s waiting.” 

Her stomach rolled as her vision swam, helpless to do anything as one of the men hoisted her up over his shoulder.

Hallucinating that a jackalope was following them, there wasn’t much CC could do other than watch her bunny friend as they trekked through the woods, CC deposited into the back of a truck parked on the edge of the road.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, she’d swear she could feel the weight of the jackalope pressing on her chest.

More chatter from the hunters reached her ears, CC’s head rolling on reflex to look at the man who spoke. The red balaclavas hid any distinguishing details from them, not that she was going to be remembering anything of the trek.

“Jacob’s at the Grand View getting ready to prep the next group of prospects for the Trials, we’ll take her there.”

A wave of nausea rolled through her gut and CC wished she’d vomited on his jacket when he’d been carrying her.

Eventually the truck slowed to a stop, CC once again hoisted over a shoulder as they pulled her out of it.

It felt like a pyrrhic victory when her stomach rolled again, and her upper body held upside down over his shoulder made it no hardship to get her previous wish. Preening at his sound of protest, CC’s eyes pressed closed to try and stop her head spinning as he grumbled and started walking on.

“Jacob, sir- we have her.”

“Is that so? Place her in the chair.”

Once again her world spun as they placed her where instructed, settling limply with her head lolling back. The arrow in her thigh was down closer to her knee, the pain dulled but still present as she shifted to find a spot where the arrow wasn’t pressing against the edge of the chair. 

Eyes opening, CC couldn’t help but giggle on nervous impulse when she forced her head up. Jacob fucking Seed had sparkles around him.

“Leave,” the order was short and left no room for argument, his gaze leveled on CC as the two Chosen left. “I’ll admit, Deputy, I was expecting more than you from all the trouble you caused my siblings.” 

Were CC in her right mind, she’d be offended that he was insulting her size and fire off some quip right back at him. However, considering she was currently high out of her mind, her focus shifted to the jackalope grooming itself in the corner until Jacob moved again and she looked at him.

His eyes drifted down, and even as disoriented as CC currently was, she felt like a rabbit caught under his predatory gaze. “Must have caused quite the ruckus for you to need to be hit twice with the Bliss arrows. You’re not going to turn into an angel on me now, are you?”

Her heart had kicked into overdrive the second he’d looked at her like something to devour and showed no signs of stopping. It took every ounce of will power to focus on him as he spoke and not her horned companion who was currently sitting in a corner grooming itself.

“No, you’re not going to do that. You’re going to sit right here and be a good girl while they bring the others in.”

The room was spinning again, CC’s pulse racing as he crooned at her.

“We’ll start simple, how about that?”

Despite having no idea what the fuck he was rambling about, CC heard the implied cue and nodded her head in agreement.

“Good, deputy- that’s real good. What do you say to getting those arrows out of your legs and you sit there and let the Bliss work its way out of your system. Think you can handle that?” 

She nodded again, not entirely processing his words. The jackalope was moving around the room, CC’s gaze flicking from the predator in front of her to the creature behind him. His gaze was intense- too much for her to be dealing with in her current state. She was just glad he was content to do all the talking. She was entirely too out of it to string a sentence together, anything she’d attempt was likely just a garbled collection of noises. Maybe he wasn’t just cracking jokes about the Angel thing- this was an incredibly shitty amount of Bliss to be under.

He took another step forward and her heart lurched into her throat again, the fear palpable in her eyes. 

“I’m gonna step out for a second and find a medkit so we can fix up your legs. You’re going to sit here and not do anything stupid. We clear?”

He could have been saying anything and CC still would have nodded. 

He pulled away from her space, turned on his heel and took two strides before turning back to her. 

“You’re pretty bright eyed for two Bliss arrows; how about we keep you honest, hm?”

CC sure as shit didn’t feel bright eyed- disoriented and nauseous, but not bright eyed. Still she nodded along with him like “keeping her honest” was the best idea he’d ever had. 

As it turned out, that entailed binding her wrists and ankles with the rope that was secured to each arm and the front legs of the chair. Not that she’d be going anywhere. The room had only barely stopped spinning and even as out of it as she was, CC knew she’d probably collapse into a heap on the floor. She already had two arrows embedded in her legs- she didn’t need to add to her current injuries. 

Staring blankly at the wall ahead of her with Only You scrawled across it, CC had no idea how much time had passed before the door opened again. It could have been minutes or hours. She was just starting to feel herself calm down under the influence of the Bliss when the hinges on the door squeaked.

Her heart started racing again, discomfort and anxiety twisting in her gut as Jacob reappeared. 

Her jeans, she knew, were soaked in her own blood from the weeping wounds.

“Let’s see what we can do about those arrows,” his tone was too  helpful- damn near chipper. 

Or maybe her apprehension had more to do with the way once he set the medkit on the table holding the projector, his hand drifting to his thigh to pull his Bowie knife out of its sheath.

Jacob Seed with a knife in hand was not something that screamed “Good news!” to CC. The anxiety shifted to panic; being captured, restrained, drugged and alone with the cult’s beloved Soldier was quite possibly the worst scenario to come to fruition.

She’d had her run ins with John and Joseph even before Eden’s Gate completely lost it and started their holy war- Jacob had never been involved in those (Also how the fuck he managed that before all this started, because there was no way he’d gotten this many Chosen after the Reaping started, which meant he’d been operating completely under everyone’s noses the entire time), keeping to himself in the mountains. She’d only ever had a scant handful of interactions with him. No one had paid much attention to the old soldier who spent his time in the abandoned Saint Francis Veteran’s Hospital.

That CC was quickly realizing, had been a major mistake on everybody’s end. The rumor mill had been running wild with Jacob’s methods of conditioning recruits to be loyal to the Project, and she was starting to realize that there was a decent chance no one had embellished anything.

The full gravity of the situation couldn’t quite settle, the sheer volume of Bliss in her system keeping most of it at bay, but enough of it crept in for CC to struggle and whimper in a hopeless attempt to free herself before he got any closer to her.

The only thing she succeeded in doing was rattling the chair, the legs scooting slightly against the flooring underneath him.

Jacob chuckled, a low sound that made her stomach flit in a manner she absolutely decided to blame on the Bliss.

“Now what are you struggling like that for? I haven’t done anything,” yet was the unsaid word that seemed to hang in the air, CC’s brain wheeling like a car struck in the mud- spinning in place and unable to gain traction no matter how hard she tried.

“You need those arrows pulled and your legs treated, and the first thing we’re going to have to do is get those pants off of you.”

Yeah that did not help the panic screaming at her to do something to free herself.

Her wrists were tender, the rough material of the rope abrasive on her skin. For all her struggling and thrashing they held fast, keeping her tethered to the chair.

He was standing in front of her now, hand reaching out to grab her by her jaw, thumb on one side and forefinger on the other- the slight squeeze was all she needed to freeze in her tracks.

“You need to sit still, or I’m going to cut you. You’d be amazed at how sharp this knife is.”

The term fear based aggression came to mind as CC tucked her jaw to catch Jacob’s thumb between her teeth. It was the only thing her rational mind could come up with to explain why she’d attempt to do something so fucking stupid while trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and completely helpless.

The taste of blood filled her mouth about the same time as her ear started ringing, vision distorted even further than it had been with the Bliss.

The blood in her mouth was hers. Her reflexes were sluggish from the Bliss. Mentally, CC was able to more or less keep pace with what was going on around her. Physically? Everything was like moving through water.

Jacob had had plenty of time to snatch his free hand away only to wind it up and backhand her. 

“You’re going to learn very quickly, Pup, that I am not my brother. You will behave, or there will be consequences. Got it?”

CC’s head stayed turned to the side where it had landed from the force of him striking her, eyes on the jackalope in the corner. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be annoyed at the stupid nickname he’d designated her with.

One of his feet struck out, knocking into the chair and threatening to overturn her. “You with it enough to try and bite me, Pup, you’re with it enough to answer me.”

She nodded on reflex, flinching violently when his hand traced her jaw again. Her thigh was throbbing from all the jostling, kept at bay from the Bliss but still nagging at the corners of her awareness.

“I won’t hold it against ya, Pup. John did say you were a stubborn little shit. You play by the rules, you don’t get punished. You fuck up? I address it and we move on. Now hold still, you’re agitating the hell out of that arrow in your thigh.”

Again with the nickname.

The Bliss was still strong in her system, the drug making it incredibly appealing to just… check out. Nothing good was going to happen from Jacob dressing her wounds and she didn’t want to be here. She’d been fighting to keep her head above the proverbial water but there was nothing she could do to rectify the situation. If she couldn’t remove herself physically, allowing herself to go mentally seemed about as good an option as any.

 He kneeled before her, CC trying her damndest to keep her heart from lurching out of her throat. Fingers tracing lightly across her thigh, she could feel them gauging at the wound near her knee. I hope he washed his hands, the thought idly crossed her mind. It’d be a miracle if she got out of this without her injuries becoming infected.

The sound of his voice reached her, far away and hazy. Soothing her as his free hand moved from her thigh to the opposite calf. Her squirming stopped as he did- she knew that he was touching her, but couldn’t feel it. He was talking to her about her injuries- gauging where the arrows were embedded in relationship to bone, arteries, tendons and ligaments.

“Think you lucked out, Pup. Given they’re both bullet points, we’ll be alright to pull them out- neither one is lodged where anything major should be.”

She didn’t check back in until he brought the knife up to her abdomen. That got her attention even through the Bliss.

“I meant what I said- Sit still so you don’t accidentally get nicked. But these are coming off so we can treat your injuries once the arrows are pulled.”

Even if Jacob genuinely thought cutting her pants to expose the skin around the arrows was the best option, CC distantly noted that there was nothing stopping him from starting at the hemline of each leg and working his way up to where the arrow was, rather than starting with the waistband and working down.

He’d warned her not to jump, but it was difficult to sit still with the sheer efficiency at which he went to work. He wasn’t rushed, wasn’t in a hurry- this was a man intimately familiar with his weapon, knowing just the right angle and pressure needed to make the fabric rend underneath his blade- and he wasn’t going to slow himself down for her comfort.

But it still scared the hell out of CC. The only outlier in the equation, she jumped at the sensation of fabric giving over her thigh. She almost didn’t feel the way the edge of the blade bit her. It wasn’t deep, the blood welling softly. He backed the blade up enough to not let it cut her anymore, sliding in a smooth motion down her calf. Going back to where the arrow was, he then severed the thin piece of fabric on one side encircling the arrow, effectively freeing her right leg.

“You’re going to have to do a better job of listening to me, Pup. When I tell you something, it’s for a reason.” His tone was lighthearted, an air of Well that’s what you get about him. Not gloating, but not remorseful either. He had, after all, warned her.

The second attempt was smoother. CC shut her eyes, struggling and failing to keep herself from flinching at the pressure of the knife against her left thigh. It didn’t cut this time, a more restrained response. Much like with the previous leg he placed the knife, tested the amount of tension needed to make it work, and the blade slipped through the fabric like butter.

“Better,” was all the commentary he made.

Her pants hanging in shreds underneath her, she decided it was easier to simply keep her eyes shut. Small mercies, at least she’d scrounged more conservative underwear, the black boy shorts hiding more than what she’d been wearing the last time she’d had the luxury of changing her clothes.

Jesus, she had to be high out of her mind to even have the bandwidth to worry about her underwear in this situation.

She could hear him stand, a sound that she could only assume was him resheathing the knife, and rummaging- through the medkit, maybe?

This whole situation was becoming too much for her to deal with (Deranged cult leaders cutting off her clothes while under the influence of home-made drugs was not a subject covered in the police academy, thank you very much), and the appeal of just letting the Bliss take her was mounting by the second.

Which was all well and good until one of his hands gripped her thigh, encircling the area just above the arrow. That got her fighting through the Bliss enough to force her eyes open, realizing his other hand was gripped around the shaft of the arrow underneath her leg. It would be easier to not be cognizant of what was about to happen to her, and yet like someone realizing they were about to crash a car with nothing they could do to stop it, she couldn’t pry her eyes away.

“You know, we’re going to have a talk about how you’re as awake as you are later. You should be staring in a corner at nothing right now.” 

She certainly wanted to, but for whatever reason she reacted funny to Bliss. It wouldn’t hit as hard as it should. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest from the stress, and she was certainly sluggish, but she still knew enough of what was going on.

Mumbling something completely incoherant (in her head she wanted to tell him to go fuck himself), his only answer was an amused chuckle.

“Sit still; I’ll make this quick,” he instructed, the grip on her knee tightening to ensure her leg stayed still.

It was odd, watching something happen to her that she knew should be painful, but being unable to process the pain. The Bliss kept her out of it enough to not feel the arrow being pulled back out the way it had entered her. She jolted more out of apprehension of pain than anything she actually felt, the movement stabilized by the iron grip on her thigh. The blood had clotted enough she wasn’t dripping it everywhere, eyes unfocused as he moved to doctoring and dressing her injury. 

After her thigh was bandaged he moved to the opposite calf. Once again, she did a better job of listening the second time. Equal parts from now knowing the Bliss was taking care of the vast majority of the pain, and the nerve damage to her lower left leg ensuring she didn’t feel a single thing as he removed the second one.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he spoke as he finished wrapping her calf. CC jolted, unaware she’d zoned out and as far as her brain processed Jacob had gone from being knelt before her to immediately standing and reaching out to grasp her face. “Easy, easy-” he soothed her like a spooked animal, ignoring how she flinched when his fingers brushed his face. “Don’t worry, Pup- you’ll learn the rules soon enough. But for now we need to get started,” he turned his head, clearly looking at something or someone else but CC couldn’t find the energy to track where he was looking. “Peaches! Bring in the others.”

CC felt like no sooner had she blinked then she was suddenly no longer the only captive in the room. She’d hoped now that the Bliss-soaked arrows were out of her system she’d finally start to sober up but luck was not on her side today. 

She could only half focus on Jacob as he gave his speech over his powerpoint presentation. The Bliss made her feel awful; the room was spinning again, her vision glassy and unfocused when he strolled over to her and dragged her chair forward a few inches towards him. If that was supposed to intimidate her into paying more attention, she didn’t know what to tell him- it felt like all she could do to just keep breathing her heart racing. Her chest hurt, she was breaking into an off and on cold sweat, her left arm was-

Suddenly CC felt more sober than she had for the last…. However long she’d been here.

A heart attack at 32 was unlikely, but given the stress and the sheer amount of Bliss in her system- Oh fucking hell.

CC thrashed against her restraints, the motion far more sluggish in real life opposed to what she thought she was accomplishing. Other than further abrading the skin on her wrists, all she earned was a glower from Jacob.

Her vision distorted in a way that had nothing to do with the Bliss, Jacob a blur as he grabbed at her chair again. “You want your freedom? You’re about to have to show me how badly you want to live.”

She couldn’t string a sentence together, reaching out to kick at him. Something- anything- to make him realize she needed help. Were she in her right mind she’d realize that he wouldn’t give a shit, but even having died twice previously her brain was still hardwired to not let that happen, even if it meant trying to solicit Jacob fucking Seed of all people for help.

“We’ll have to work on that attitude of yours, honey. You certainly refuse to just lay there, don’t you? You were doing so good there for a second but you keep interrupting me and we’re going to have a problem.”

He just thought she was finding the energy to protest- of fucking course.

CC’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped back against the chair as he continued on with his speech.

By the time he pulled out the music box, CC was gone. It wasn’t until he realized that the captured whitetails were thrashing against their bonds as expected but the deputy was deathly still that he went back over to her chair, eyes focused on her chest waiting to see the rise and fall of her ribcage. Seeing there was no movement, his hand reached for her neck, two fingers pressed against her throat to feel for a pulse that was no longer there.

“Fuck!” he cursed in frustration, knocking over her chair in a last bid to get a response from her. 

She was too loose in how she landed, neck rolling like a ragdoll with no resistance to it.

Joseph was not going to be happy about that. This was a headache the eldest Seed didn’t need, leaving the room with no concern for the two thrashing Whitetails. 

 - - - - -

CC should have figured that eventually, with her luck, she’d find herself in such a shit situation. 

Reviving from the dead was all fun and games until she revived with her wrists still bound and her two companions from earlier dead. 

Assuming at some point that someone would enter the room, if for no reason other than to clean up the corpses, the dread twisted tighter and tighter in her gut when no one ever came. As the sun set and raised again, CC tried once again to thrash against her bonds. God damn did Seed know how to tie a knot. They didn’t budge an inch. She couldn’t leverage herself to break the chair either, topped over on her side. 

Holy shit- what was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how any of this worked; the whole dying and coming back thing. People could live, more or less, about 3 days without water. Was she going to just be stuck in a perpetual loop of reviving only to die from dehydration and do it all again? The same 72 hour cycle playing over and over and over-

Day 2 post-revival and CC was barely conscious when the door finally opened. The room positively reeked but she’d grown desensitized to the stench yesterday. Glazed eyes tracking the three Whitetails, she barely had the energy to muster a groan of protest when the one who’d picked up her chair toppled her over again in shock at the realization she was still alive

Fuck it, what was one more concussion at this point?

The words spoken to her went in one ear and out the other. Her brain registered the phrase You’re with the Whitetails and that was all she needed to know. They weren’t Peggies on clean up duty- she was going to manage to escape to give hell another day. 

She was essentially dead weight as the two men dragged her out, despite her grand plan to blow up every wolf beacon she could find once she’d recuperated.

Fuck Jacob Seed.

[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[onesunofagun]

I shall now yell about Ingo, please stand by:

Ingo’s transformation from the underappreciated backbone of the ranch to an absolute ruff-wearing cantaloupe of a man is also pretty interesting (if you’re the kind of person who absorbs the Zelda series through your skin like a frog to live).

I’ve bolded the key points for skimmers.

Granted, the manga has it that Ingo just gets brainwashed by Twinrova into being a staunch follower of Ganondorf. That’s not canon, but it’s not informing any of this thinking, either way. 

In the beginning of OoT we meet Talon by waking him up from a nap, and we learn pretty quickly that he’s lazy and often yelled at by his daughter for slacking off like this. Ingo at the ranch confirms again that Talon doesn’t pull his weight around there, and since Malon’s still a child, it’s pretty obvious that Ingo’s settled with the bulk of the work.

Ingo is grumpy, he’s resentful, and he complains a lot. But he does do the work, and you can find him (presumably) in the process of mucking out the stables. 

Let’s examine what he does at the ranch:

Epona really liked that song... Only I could tame that horse... Even Mr. Ingo had a hard time...

Now, Epona is established in game to be a real winner of a horse. She’s fast, she’s smart, she’s got a lovely sorrel coat and white mane that seems to be quite rare or highly prized coloring. The catch is, she is notoriously wild. The only people she tolerates are Malon and Link, due in large part to being soothed by the song Malon’s mother taught her.

Ingo had to really try to crack this horse, which Malon’s observation suggests is unusual. 

Epona is very young when we first see her, so it’s never really revealed if she was caught wild, or bred at the ranch with a very headstrong temperament.

Ingo’s clearly the guy that’s breaking them in, though. The most Talon is doing is... sleeping in with the cuccos. We never see any organisation of the cuccos, in terms of egg collection or poultry farming, but nevertheless, Talon has the much less physical jobs even if he was doing them. His focus seems to be cuccos, deliveries to the castle and book keeping between naps (and to be fair it’s probably a little depression related, given the dead wife).

Malon gives us a cow later on, and she’s got the egg for the crowing cucco that wakes up Talon, so I’d like to assume for simplicity’s sake that even as a kid, Malon was up at dawn most days helping Ingo with the cows and milking them. It’s never really implied that she has amazing skill in dealing with horses, just that Epona has a special connection with her specifically. Other than that, Malon is simply kind and respectful of her animals (though I’ve got no idea how she got that cow to Link’s treehouse and that’s worth investigating). 

Later on, Ingo is also shown to be a competent rider. Enough that he has absolutely no qualms in challenging Link to races for wagers, and was quite confident of his ability to win.

The takeaway is, Ingo is usually VERY GOOD with both caring for and training horses, if not breeding them for the ranch.

That kind of lends to his grumbling, when he is referring to himself as ‘the Great Ingo’ and comparing himself to Talon, who is a ‘bum’. His claim to greatness may not be undeserved, at least in horse circles, and especially if he’s not getting particular credit for it, his bitterness and frustration (alongside envy, exhaustion, and dreams of recognition) would be quite deeply run.

So it seems that his friend and employer is clearly taking some advantage of him, especially after the death of Malon’s mother.

So now, let’s examine his feelings, and how he changes.

The feelings Ingo has about that are pretty textbook for the sort of thing ‘evil takes hold of and twists’, in the Zeldaverse.

Focussing on the game itself, Malon says this as an adult:

Since Ganondorf came, people in the Castle Town have gone, places have been ruined, and monsters are wandering everywhere. Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... Everyone seems to be turning evil...

We do see other characters in Hyrule become influenced by the ‘darkness in their hearts’ as byproduct of Ganondorf’s reign. 

A prominent example of a character who was visibly dissatisfied with their lot, and then notably changes (while praising Ganondorf for what he’d done), is the Castle Guard who is heavily implied to have become the Poe Dealer. Even if by some slim means it’s not the same person, the Poe Dealer does still express that they could not do the work they do without Ganon as King, and that they now benefit from him being in that position and are grateful to him.

The Kakariko Carpenters seem to have given into their fantasies about living among the Gerudo women, and gone out to the Valley and gotten themselves taken prisoner. Following work near the fortress, the team chooses to act on their selfish desires and go for broke, chasing their dreams. They weren’t previously prepared to act upon these fantasies when Link was young, admittedly much milder in their still very prominent obsession, but seven years later, they’re quite happy to risk it all and piss away the stability of their careers (and nearly their lives) at the first opportunity.

Anyway, the trend is, those across Hyrule who are unhappy with their lot before Ganondorf’s coup tend to be ‘corrupted’ by seven years later, and appear to have given in to a twisted version of whatever they most wanted. 

This is noteworthy especially because the language in the game revolves around the Sacred Realm being opened and corrupted, too, by Ganondorf’s unbalanced heart and selfish goals. It is unable to be ‘sealed’ again while Link has the Master Sword. In aLttP, we know there is a mirror like effect to do with the sacred turned dark realm, in which it reflects the hearts of men. 

So it is very reasonable to say, that for OoT in particular, much of this evil influence plaguing the land and preying on the darkness an people’s hearts is a result of the corruption of the Sacred Realm. It is an indirect byproduct of Ganondorf’s acquiring of the Triforce, but not necessarily something he himself does to people on purpose, unlike the brainwashing of Nabooru.

Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... But Dad... He was kicked out of the ranch by Mr. Ingo... If I disobey Mr. Ingo, he will treat the horses so badly...

This explains a lot of the more callous and greedy behaviour that Ingo shows later on, and why it seems to disappear when he is truly humbled by Link. 

Link’s win serves as a reminder of Ingo’s stagnating skill with horses, the very thing that made him feel so deserving of praise and recognition in the first place, in that for everything he now has control of at the ranch, he still cannot control that horse. He has become as much of a bum as Talon ever was, relegating Malon to do all the hard work while Ingo struts around uselessly. He’s even lost his touch with the Horses so much, in his arrogance, that now he has taken up mistreating them and using harsh and abusive methods (according to Malon’s concerns).

The humiliation and shame takes hold, his pride shattering with the loss of Epona-- not only as a valuable asset, but also as the horse he could never truly tame.

The dark feelings he was holding onto are let go of, as he regains a sense of humility, and the corruptive influence upon him dissipates. He even seeks out Talon to bury the hatchet and invite him back to the ranch.

Oh, I have to tell you about Mr. Ingo... He was afraid that the Evil King might find out that Epona had been taken away... It really upset him! But one day, all of a sudden, he went back to being a normal, nice person! Now my dad is coming back...I can't believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch!

But what about his obsession with Ganondorf in particular?

When the coup happened, Ingo watched the King of the Gerudo unwittingly play out a sort of grand parallel to what Ingo felt should happen on the ranch. To Ingo’s perception, I think Ganondorf was representing an ideal version of Ingo himself. 

A man of the desert, where hard work and grit are as second nature to survive the harsh conditions. A man frustrated with the King of Hyrule’s shit, and forced to swear fealty to him despite being a King himself. A man resplendent with wealth, with fine and flashy clothes and plentiful jewelry.

And perhaps the most important note of all, the Gerudo in OoT? 

They’re horse people. 

They love horses. Ganondorf’s horse is reputed to be a purebred Black Gerudo Stallion, which is obviously a specialty breed, that is fully armoured and as flashy as he is. When the Gerudo cut the bridge leading to the valley, the only way in and out is to have a skilled horse jump the gap. 

They also have a huge horseback archery range, and prowess in the sport is an incredible source of respect amongst the Gerudo, and many of the guards possess bladed polearms suitable for mounted use. From this, it can be assumed that during the recent civil war, Gerudo weapons, war tack and military tactics were probably built around mounted cavalry archers foremost, with a lesser focus on light and heavy cavalry aside (iron knuckle armour springs to mind).

Anyway, Horses are very important to the Gerudo in the era of Ocarina of Time.

So Ganondorf is also unique in the sense that he is the King of a people who value what it is that Ingo does very highly. He, of all people, stands to immediately recognise the knowledge and skill that Ingo possesses in rearing horses.

So this is a man who successfully stages a coup of Hyrule, who clearly inspires Ingo to do much the same of the ranch, and who Ingo also feels is very likely to take his side should he appeal the matter.

And Ganondorf does.

And if that’s not a great compliment to Ingo’s actual skill, I don’t know what is, because Ganondorf is not a man that suffers fools. He’s got a limited patience when it comes to shit that is beneath his notice. Clearly, he recognises that Ingo is indeed the backbone of that ranch-- and the main reason for the quality of its Horses-- and rewards this accordingly.

And for Ingo, being on decent terms with the big scary goth King is a very, very good place to be. But it’s more than that!

What a guy! Not only did he deliver on Ingo’s long due validation, he gave Ingo everything he’d ever dreamed of having to his name, and the authority to kick Talon to the curb. He gets it! Ganondorf, this great eight foot beacon of freshly sought divine power and topaz-encrusted glory, this absolute unit of a man, this great underdog horse-lover after Ingo’s own heart; he really understands how great Ingo is. Ganondorf is paving the way for people like them! Oh, to rub shoulders wiht such greatness when the rest of Hyrule is scorned. 

Ingo feels seen. The Great Ganondorf made all that thankless time spent shovelling horse shit while Talon slept mean something. The Gerudo appreciate Ingo’s talents.

And all Ingo has to do is keep turning out really good horses, and promise to present the King with his finest.

So Ingo knows he’s in deep shit when he gets cocky and loses Epona to a wager, who at this point, he’s prepared pretty well and sunk a lot of money into on the idea that she’s going to Ganondorf. 

Who he’s probably bragged to about how fast she is.

He lost her to some jerk in tights who’d barely ridden before, too. And then when Ingo tried to cheat him out of the win, the kid jumped the damned fence an in ass-bustingly cool move that really just drove home how excellent and rare Epona was.

One does not promise the King of the Gerudo a fast horse and then fail to deliver, let alone for such a stupid reason.

Honestly, by the end, the man’s just happy to be alive.

Also I’d like to think he and Talon had a much fairer delegation of work and forgave each other, each really learning to appreciate what they have and what’s really important.

how the fuck did the Kokiri leave the forest for this scene anyway, they don’t even have their faries???

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Hello! Could i please have some good good pregnancy and parenting headcanons with a fem!s/o for Law, Eustass, and Zoro please? Thank you so much and have an awesome day!

Oof pregnancy and parenting headcanon make me so soft, thank you very much for this sweet request🥺! I focussed a bit more on the pregnancy part rather than the parenting tho since I've written something similiar for Kid and Law already😅 Hope what I came up with suits you, and sorry for the long wait!

How they deal with a pregnant gf and having a baby headcanon

Trafalgar Law

because of his medical knowledge and observant nature, Law actually noticed the first signs of your pregnancy even before you did

so when you finally realize that you're pregnant and go to confront him with your discovery, he's anything but surprised

"Law, I need to tell you something. I'm-"

"Pregnant? Yeah, I thought so."

he looks pretty unbothered and composed, almost as if this isn't anything new to him, but on the inside he is completely tense and filled with anxiety. A baby just doesn't fit into your pirate lives. At all. However he doesn't want to show his true feelings and possibly cause you to panic. You already got enough on your plate with all the new physical and hormonal changes you're about to go through

personally Law didn't plan on having kids, ever, but what's done is done. To make sure that this is really what you want he'd still offer you the option of an abortion, but when you decline and tell him that you want to keep the child, he accepts your decision

"Alright (Y/N), brace yourself then. A few major changes are upon us..."

everything from the beginning of your pregnancy to the date of birth is planned out by him. Law doesn't want anything to go wrong and refuses to take risks. That means you'll spend most of your time either stuck by his side or in the proximity of another member of the Heart Pirates

Bepo, Penguin and Shachi are super excited for the kid and to be uncles. They all come up with their own ideas on what they'll do with the baby once it's born, and their enthusiasm sort of puts Law at ease. This means he and you at least won't have to deal with everything by yourselves

when you actually go into labour, Law's composed facade drops for a moment and he reveals just how stressed he's been up until now

in order to properly assist you and be there for you while you're giving birth, he forces himself to imagine that this is just an ordinary operation. It's not his girlfriend having his baby, he's not about to be a father in a few minutes-

all the stress and anxiety instantly falls off of him when he first holds the new life you two created.

the first time Law looks down at his baby he's absolutely mesmerized. Sure it's still bloody and screeching its lungs out, but despite all odds it's looking completely healthy and is actually,,,, really adorable? Holy shit, how did he manage to make something so pure-looking-

after cleaning the baby and introducing it to its mother, he brings the little human over to Bepo and lets it rest in the bear's soft fur instead of wrapping it up in a blanket. Not only should that be far more comfortable for the tiny thing, but it's also the first bonding experience with uncle Bepo. And while the baby is sleeping, Law walks over to check in on you and tells you how great you did

as far as being a dad goes, Law belongs to the supportive but distant type. Whenever he's got the chance he'll try to spend time with his kid, but there are often other, more important things he has to take care of

however he's still a proud parent and lowkey hopes that the child will take an interest in his work when it gets older. It shouldn't come as a surprise that one of the first things your kid will be taught by Papa Law is how to dissect a frog

Eustass Kid

his immediate thought when you let him know that you're pregnant is "how can I make this unhappen"

look at him, Kid is not ready to be a dad. Especially when it comes to his level of maturity he's basically still a child himself-

no one on the Victoria Punk is prepared for the big news. Their captain made a baby. There will be a kid running around the ship. Oh shit, everyone better start learning to limit their use of profanities already-

initially Kid acts pretty grumpy throughout your pregnancy. He didn't want this, but it's still happening. And he can't do anything against it. He's almost acting like a pregnant woman himself-

can not and will not handle your cravings/mood swings. Whenever you start acting up he just gets completely irritated and quickly peaces out when he can't come up with a way to deal with you

but what started out as regret turns into excitement when he thinks about how awesome his kid would be. With him as dad and you as mom it's only natural that the result will be amazing

and thus he starts to be a bit more open-minded towards the whole situation. Heck, he even gets lowkey excited and starts building a few baby cribs and closets for the child!

unfortunately tho Kid is anything but compassionate during your pregnancy, and it gets especially bad when you start showing. His immature nature shines through and he makes quite a few indecent comments on how you look a balloon,,,

for some reason he also tends to be more horny than usual. Hey, you already got a bun in the oven, so there isn't anything else you need to worry about, right?

in contrast to how he treated you during your pregnancy, he's actually very supporting and motivating during birth

lmao but that's mostly because he's eagerly waiting between your legs for the kid to plop out and right into his arm like a Christmas present

it's almost like a lottery to him and he's super excited what the brat will look like

however nothing could have prepared Kid for the moment when he gets to hold the baby for the first time. The young man basically beams with pride and grins from one ear to the other while the baby cries like an alarm clock

Kid's first time holding the newborn in a nutshell:

"Hehe, it looks like we got a girl here, ey (Y/N)?"

"Kid... that's the baby's ass. You're holding it the wrong way around."

he definitely comes up with ridiculous names for the child, such as: "Eustass Explosion", "Eustass Chainsaw" and his personal favorite- "Eustass the Destroyer"

putting his excitement aside, the young pirate captain definitely has to grow into the role of a father. At first he almost treats the kid like some sort of new toy or pet

you'll never catch him changing even a single diaper. Most of the time Kid tells Killer to man up, cover the holes in his mask, and take care of it by himself if he really wants to be considered 'the best uncle'

despite his rowdy behaviour he is aware that the child is 'fragile' and usually makes sure to keep it away from any dangerous stuff, meaning that the workshop is off-limits for the little one. Kid also never uses his metal arm when he's playing with or holding the baby; instead he build a more authentic prosthetic that'll allow him to hold the child more properly

Roronoa Zoro

his eye almost pops out of its socket when you tell him

holy shit! Zoro of course knew that sex makes babies, but what are the odds of this happening to you?! Besides he always considered himself to be too controlled and restrained for that to work?! Damn?!?!

despite the initial shock he wants to do his best to help you through the pregnancy. After all he basically caused this-

however Zoro can't even find the way to the grocery store to get some diapers

someone send him help. And by help, I mean Chopper

the reindeer himself doesn't know too much about pregnancies, but he's more than happy to collect some first-hand experience and teaches Zoro all about how to be a dad and what's going on with your body

whenever you're near he keeps his swords sheathed and tucked away from you. Once your stomach starts popping he's wary that if he comes too close to you with a sharp thing you might burst or something

at night he keeps watch like a guard dog, his overprotectiveness shines through and he often refuses to go to sleep before you

you probably go into labour while he's out getting lost or fighting some marines, but once Zoro gets the news he almost drops his sword and hurries back to be with you

but he arrives almost an hour later because he got so excited that he forgot the way back to the Sunny

Zoro really wants to help you and Chopper deliver the baby. He's constantly repeating what the reindeer doc says to you and at some point, when your pain reaches its peak, he even suggets reaching down and pulling the baby out of you with his own two hands lol

but once the first cries fill the rooms, he freezes up. It's done. Those nine months of worry, mood swings, suffering and cravings are finally over. A wave of relief washes over him as he smirks down at you, quietly saying how proud he is

however Zoro strongly refuses to hold his baby at first. He's genuinely scared he might drop it or accidentally crush it.

you and Chopper basically have to yell at him to get him out of his trance and convince the new father to take a look at his child

"Zoro, I did not go through hours of pain just so you can say no to holding our baby. For crying out loud, take your child!"

the second you put the baby into his arms Zoro's protective dad instincts kick in and now he refuses to let the child go again lmao

he's mustering the little one's face like some abstract oil painting, unable to tear his gaze from it and proudly recognizing all the similarities between the baby and its parents

luckily Zoro got some natural dad skills under his belt, and you both share the responsibilities evenly

he's never opposed to changing diapers or feeding the baby, even if the first annoys him sometimes. He also keeps the baby around himself 24/7- during workouts he puts it onto his back, when he wanders around the little one sits on his shoulders, and when he takes a nap on the desk the baby lies on his chest

all of the other Strawhats are more than welcome to take care of the baby from time to time and bond with the newest family crewmember to their heart's content. Well, that goes for everyone except Sanji. You better not let Zoro catch him handling the baby or a fight will break out-

[whitexwingedxdoves]

waterfall   [request]

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Warnings: babe its just fluffy as heck. Summary: Now he had a ring, Daryl Dixon needed the perfect way to propose to you and after many dead ends, he finally cooks up the perfect plan. A/N: Requested by @witch-of-letters​ . Erm this is just the cutest request ever though. My heart is so full. (this has fully let me live out my Mrs Daryl Dixon fantasy) Tags: @chloe-skywalker​

Marriage had never even been a passing thought in Daryl’s mind before, though with Negan behind bars now and the fact you were carrying his child something seemed to switch in his mind. He spent a good week searching for the perfect ring for you despite the limited options, he even considered mugging a walker for one at some point.  He found a lucky escape one day when Carol, who was also searching for the perfect ring for you in between her time at the kingdom, found a perfect silver band with a singular diamond that glistened in the sun. She managed to disguise the delivery to Daryl as a visit and you thought nothing of it, soaking up most of her time talking about how hard you found the first trimester of your pregnancy and how everything seemed so much easier in your second.  

Cursing under his voice as he sat on the porch of your home, Daryl caressed the ring in-between his fingers. Now he had the ring he would have to come up with the perfect way to propose to you, feeling you deserved so much more than a kitchen floor proposal.  The advice he managed to pull from Carol before she left was nothing other than ‘as long as it comes from the heart’ which was no help to him. The sound of the front door opening almost made him drop the ring, he scrambled to tuck it away into his vest turning to face you. His eyes landed on the bump that had finally formed on your stomach, a smile cracking his face. You gave him a small smile, rubbing your bump before looking outwards to the street, letting a small sigh pass your lips. “I’m gonna go see if the infirmary has any more vitamins left” you finally spoke, the man just nodding your direction, chewing on the corner of his mouth. “I won't be long” with that, Daryl scrambled to be by your side and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before waving you goodbye.

-

Daryl was sure his brain was fried after straining to come up with a proposal idea, not understanding why it was so hard, he had come up with plans for tracking and war on the spot but this was the first time he encountered a block. He knew it was time to pull in some reinforcements and who better than Michonne.  When he found her, he just pulled the ring from his pocket and showed it to her. Michonne could barely hide her wide smile as she saw the band, not that she wanted to hide it.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” she joked as her eyes finally met his, a soft grunt left Daryl’s lips as he placed the ring back into his pocket. “So, when you asking her?” Her grin resembled that of a girl who had just witnessed her friend get asked to prom by their crush, it made the archer a little uncomfortable as he shifted on his feet.

“tha’s the problem” a sigh filled his words “Dono how ‘m gonna do it” his brow cocked at the sound of Michonne’s teasing laughter

“You know you don’t need to make a big deal out of it!” Finally making her way around the kitchen, cleaning up what was left of Judith’s lunch, Michonne just shook her head at the man. “She’ll say yes, whatever you do” even though her words were confident, it didn’t convince Daryl.

“Na, she deserves a big gesture” he argued, Michonne shot him a look but chose not to argue with the man as she placed plates into the sink. “Don’t go tellin’ e’ryone!” he added before turning on his feet to leave the house.

“Your secret is safe with me”

With the lack of help from Michonne, Daryl sort out other people for ideas – all having the same results, Nothing! Aaron was far to giddy to even think of anything on the spot, Gabriel just spoke about the beauty of marriage and the ceremony, not really answering any of Daryl’s questions and Rosita... well Rosita suggested he propose over a hog’s carcass, even going as far as telling him to hide the ring on one of the ribs – of course she was joking but even Daryl couldn’t deny that you loved hunting just as much as he did. He only had one person left he could ask and he scolded himself for not thinking of it first, Rick.

Of course Rick was at your home, talking to you when he found him, Daryl just waited and waited for the conversation to come to an end, shifting on his feet throughout Rick’s visit. He never caught the sly looks Rick would send Daryl’s way every so often when you weren’t looking, he was too focused on the task at hand to notice much of anything. When Rick finally announced he was leaving, Daryl followed after him making sure the front door was closed before he started to talk.

“Hey, can I ask ya somethin’” Daryl shouted after the sheriff, making him turn on the bottom steps to your porch.

“Is this about askin’ Y/N to marry ya?” Rick teased, sending Daryl a knowing look which only caused the archers' brows to furrow slightly “Michonne told me!” he admitted with a small laugh.

“I told ‘er not to tell anyone!” Rick shook his head at the angry tone in Daryl’s voice, the smile never leaving his features.

“She’s right, ya dont need no fancy candle lit dinner – just ask her. She’ll say yes” The advice offered to Daryl only made him roll his eyes, Rick didn’t stay long and left with barely another word leaving Daryl with no new ideas and just as confused as he had started the day.

-

The next day he woke up with an extra spring in his step, he finally had an idea. You couldn’t help but be baffled by his sudden mood change, yesterday he spent all day on edge and every time you brought it up he would just brush it off as if nothing was the matter or when he massaged your feet while you read a book, he seemed to press a little harder than usual and jump every time you spoke to him. Today though, he told you to spend the full day relaxing and gave you a soft kiss before he went out on a hunt, which you did, you spent half the day reminiscing on the hunts you’d go on together, how he always seemed impressed with how skilful you were with a knife or how he’d comment on how much of a magpie you were when you’d come home on a run with the most impressive treasures. It wasn’t long until Daryl showed up again, he wasn’t the usual messy Daryl that you’d encounter after a hunt, nor did he have a belt full of squirrels. You didn’t question him, scared to make him just as jumpy as he was yesterday and just offered him a kiss when he walked through the door.

You noticed how proud he looked as he set his cross bow on the kitchen counter “M goin back out, just wanted to know if ya wanna join?” he questioned you which confused you even more. Since the day you found out that you were pregnant, he had practically wrapped you in bubble wrap, arguing with you every time you wanted to leave the gates.

“You want me to go on a hunt with you?” Your hands naturally settled on your stomach as you cocked your brow at the man.

“It’s safe, made sure before I got ya.” His tone was convincing but you still questioned his motives “Figured ya’d wanna get out for a bit” he finally added and you accepted his invitation. He was right, you needed to get out of Alexandria badly, you loved it there but every day it seemed to get smaller.

-

He took you in a spare car, refusing to let you get on the back of his bike while you were carrying his ‘son’. It wasn’t long until he had parked up at the side of a road, and led you into the forest. You watched his movements carefully and questioned every step he took, not seeming to follow the same formula he used every time he tracked.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, noticing the obvious tracks in the ground that he ignored.

“Trackin’” he argued, mimicking his past actions to seem more convincing as he led you further into the woods. You figured it was best not to question him anymore, despite your knowledge of tracking, it was nothing in comparison to Daryl’s.  He finally stopped at a waterfall, one you didn’t even know existed, it was small but god it was beautiful you could barely peel your eyes from the view. You stood there for a moment, allowing the tranquil energy to take over.

When you finally turned to Daryl, he seemed to be fumbling in his pocket for something which only made you laugh a little. He took a few steps closer to you with something buried in his fist, you weren't sure what it was but your heart seemed to race a little at the possibilities. He looked around at the waterfall only confirming this was the best place to propose to you; the sun now had a golden hue as it fought with the leaves on the trees to find the ground. His eyes finally met you as he took your hand in his.

“I aint ever done this shit before” he whispered which only made your giggle reappear.  “Ya the most importan’ person in my life. Fer god sake, ya carryin’ ma son” you rolled your eyes at his assumption but couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you watched him awkwardly try to find the right words to say. “ a love you” he finished which only made your smile widen, you opened your mouth to respond to his loving words but nothing left as he knelt down on one knee in front of you. Your heart seemed to beat harder than it ever had done in your life, your eyes filling with tears as you watched the scene unfold, secretly wishing someone would capture the perfect moment on film for you to watch forever. “Y/N Will ya marry me?” he held out his palm to show you the perfect ring, you couldn’t believe something so beautiful existed in this world let alone the fact you’d get to wear it.

You stood speechless for a moment, the only sound you managed to get out was a squeak of some kind, you nodded your head a little too vigorously holding out your hand for the man to squeeze the ring on, it was a little small but with enough pressure it fit. Before he could find his way back to his feet, you managed to knock him onto the ground, his arms wrapping around you as you attacked his face with small, sweet kisses. “I love you, Daryl Dixon” you whispered in between the kisses, only making the southerner laugh.

You sat there watching the waterfall between Daryl’s legs, his back providing the perfect back rest, only turning away to glance at your ring, not sure what was more beautiful. Finally you looked up behind you to find his eyes had been on you the entire time. He lent down to place one of his tender kisses on your lips as you reached your hand to his face. You sighed on his lips before he pulled away, your eyes remaining close as you let the feeling linger. “Mrs Y/N Dixon, I like how it sounds”

“Me too”

[bubblesuga]

Sleep

“the world is brighter than the sun now that you’re here...” 

Summary: Yoongi has never felt more relaxed than he has while in your arms

W/C: 2,047

Genre: Fluff

Tags: brief mention of ass

A/N: Apparently I’m not done with this soft shit yet. Soft Yoongi kills me.

Yoongi’s feet carry him into the only room he knows will be empty. 

It was moving day and Yoongi was completely unprepared. Sure, he knew that he was basically going to be rebuilding his set up from the bottom to the top, he just didn’t realize that would also include constantly helping Hoseok and Namjoon with theirs as well. Yoongi prides himself on being quite knowledgeable about musical tech but sometimes it’s overwhelming.

He walks quickly, dodging people and ignoring the calls of his name because he knows he’ll get wrapped into helping someone else with some nonsensical tech ‘problem’, taking up even more time and raising his anxiety beyond what he can manage on his own. 

Sticking his master key into the door, he realizes it’s already unlocked. He grits his teeth for a moment and tries to think of another place where he could possibly get some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for him, he hears Jimin calling Yoongi’s name and it’s either entering this room or getting dragged away from his rest. 

The door slowly creaks open and he peeks inside, seeing that it’s dimly lit and quiet. What’s supposed to be a vocal practice room has yet to become so, the shell of a computer laying on the floor and a very tired intern sleeping beside it. 

Yoongi instantly smiles. 

You began working at the company a little less than 3 months ago, and you were learning fast. What would normally take people years to learn, you were consuming in weeks and Yoongi was impressed. You had signed on in an attempt to learn more about producing, which lead you to work with pdogg and Yoongi relatively closely. As a result, Yoongi’s first instinct isn’t to wake you up and tell you off for sleeping on the job. Instead, he lays beside you, mirroring your body. 

Your eyebrows are scrunched and a frown overtakes your lips, showing that you have been just as stressed as Yoongi. He reaches his hand forward to run his thumb along the crease in your brow but stops himself, his hand pulling back quickly. 

It’s definitely not the first time he’s thought about pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to ease your mind. As you were helping pack away the recording equipment near the studio, Yoongi could see the way you blew air out of your mouth and attempted to wipe away your stress with the back of your hand. Then, Yoongi wanted to wrap his arms around you and reassure you that you were doing everything right. 

You stir and Yoongi scoots a little further away, the pout on your lip softening but the crease in your brow just as strong. 

Yoongi has always found you incredibly beautiful, but it baffles him that even in your sleep you somehow manage to look ethereal. 

He debates on waking you, hearing constant footsteps outside the door that caused him to worry that you’ll be caught sleeping-- or that he’ll be caught watching you. 

A sigh leaves his lips and he reaches over, resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly, “____, it’s time to wake up.” 

You stir again, this time opening your eyes briefly. You gasp, jumping at the sight of Yoongi. He chuckles, “Be lucky I was the one who caught you and not someone else.” 

You blink, your heart thudding in your chest loud enough for Yoongi to hear. For a moment he thinks it’s because you’ve seen him, but he remembers that he scared you awake. 

“What are you doing in my nap spot?” You question, a whiny tone to your voice that makes Yoongi’s heart flutter. 

“Arguably, you’re in my nap spot.” Yoongi bites back, trying to hide the way his cheeks turn red when you mirror him again. 

You giggle, “It’s both of our nap spot.” 

“Ah, does that mean you’re going back to sleep?” 

“No,” you shake your head, wiping away the sleep from your eyes, “I have to finish setting up the computer and making sure everything runs correctly.” 

Yoongi sits up, tugging the computer tower to him and plugging in all the wires to the correct input. You open your mouth to protest but Yoongi sends a glance your way and continues setting up. Funnily enough, he doesn’t mind helping you. Rather, he sometimes wonders if that’s what he was searching for in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t peace and quiet he wanted, maybe it was just your presence. 

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing my job for me. I’m going to have to learn some time,” you say after a few moments of watching Yoongi work, “how else am I going to become a badass producer like you?” 

Yoongi smiles shyly at the compliment, reaching backward and scratching behind his ear, a nervous habit he wishes he could get rid of. “I like helping you.” is the only thing he can bring himself to say. 

“Well, you can only help me so much, Mr. Min.” you point a finger in his direction, and Yoongi rolls his eyes as he continues to work. 

He stands up and turns on the tower and the monitor, allowing the computer to boot up and sitting back down beside you. He sits much closer to you than before, and takes notice in the way you don’t make an attempt to move. 

“All done.” he whispers softly, clearing his throat in the process. 

You nod, “Of course I fell asleep just before the easiest part.” 

“Eh, it’s okay,” before Yoongi realizes what he’s doing, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, “you needed the rest. It’s been a long day.” 

Again, you don’t move away from him. Instead, you rest your head on his shoulder and cuddle up closer to him. Something about the atmosphere of the small room makes Yoongi feel bold, and his hand rubs up and down your shoulder. Despite not knowing you for long, you’re the person who he finds the easiest to talk to. 

“It’s been a long day for you as well.” 

“Mhm, which is why I came to nap but you were already in here.” He teasingly reaches forward and pinches your nose, which causes you to push his hand away and clasp it in yours to prevent him from doing it again. Yoongi instantly prays you don’t notice the way his hand shakes in yours, but he realizes you do with the way your thumb moves to stroke his. 

“I’m not stopping you from napping,” she replies, “you can nap all you want.” 

In an oddly bold move, Yoongi grins, “Can I use you as a pillow?” 

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised, “What part of me?” 

Yoongi’s mouth runs dry at your question, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly while he tries to find an answer to your question. You don’t give him the chance, though, as you lay on your back and pull him down with you. 

With a giggle, you pull Yoongi’s head to your chest and softly run your fingers through the section of hair behind his ear. Yoongi wordlessly follows your lead, wrapping his arms around your midriff and trying to calm his breathing. The heat that radiates off your body causes Yoongi to flush, but at the same time he begins to slow his breathing. 

“Comfy?” you question. 

“Y- yes.” he responds, allowing himself to fall solely into you. The way your fingers run through his hair makes him feel like this is where he’s meant to be. It reminds him of the touch of a previous lover, who softly coaxed him to sleep after a night out. Yet, it’s different with you as well. Your nails are longer, they send chills down his spine, and the bare skin that resides in the V cut of your shirt seems to fit his face perfectly. 

With that, Yoongi feels himself drift off to sleep. 

~*~*~

“Should we wake them?” 

“No, they look cute... we can’t disturb that.” 

“They’re sleeping on the job, though. _____ could get in trouble if her manager sees her.” 

“Shh, Yoongi has been wanting this since she started here. Besides, we can overturn any manager here.” 

Yoongi can’t make out the voices that are whispering, and he can’t quite seem to pull himself out of his lull yet. Instead, he’s hyper aware of the way your breathing sounds in his ear, your heart beat softly thudding beneath your chest. 

He feels himself drifting back into the deep sleep he fell into, but a hand rests on his shoulder. 

“Hyung, it’s time to go home.” 

“I said not to wake them!” 

Yoongi is beginning to recognize the voices. Namjoon and Jimin are in the room, and Yoongi feels his nose scrunch. 

“Fuck off.” he murmurs against your chest, snuggling deeper into your soft skin. 

“Come on now, you can’t sleep on the studio floor all night.” Namjoon’s voice is low, and Yoongi feels you begin to move. 

“Are you coming home with us tonight?” Namjoon’s attention is now directed to you, and Yoongi decides it is best to open his eyes now. The same dim lighting greets him and he cranes his neck to see your face. 

You’re eyes are still closed but you open your mouth to speak, “Why would I be coming home with you guys?” 

“Because Yoongi is refusing to let go of you.” Jimin speaks commonsensically, though Yoongi can tell he’s teasing. 

You absentmindedly reach your hand to his hair again, “Shall I go home with you and continue our sleep there?” 

Yoongi nods, his chin against your chest, “I’d love that.” 

As the four of you exit the vocal room, Yoongi guides your sleepy figure into the elevator where you reach the parking garage. Jimin drives, the rest of the members already having left and made their way into their beds. On the drive home, Yoongi doesn’t let go of your hand. 

It’s unspoken, and although you haven’t done anything to confirm it, the two of you are aware of the change in your personal relationship. Something so simple--like falling asleep together, has caused Yoongi’s confidence to grow.

Though sleepiness is still clouding you two, Yoongi opens his mouth to speak for the first time since leaving the office, “Do you like me, _____?” 

You laugh, it’s soft and melodic, “No, I just followed you here to sleep in the big comfy bed.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me,” Yoongi jokes, pulling back the duvet and slipping his shirt off his torso, “Here, that shirt and jeans can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” 

You nod, glancing back to the walk in closet. Yoongi nods, “You can change in there.” 

As you shut the closet door, Yoongi slips off his own jeans and slips beneath the covers. He reaches to the side and fluffs the pillow you’ll be using, then folding his arms beneath his head and watching the door for you to come out. 

When you enter into the main room again, Yoongi’s shirt doesn’t hang as low on you as he thought it would. It stops just below your ass, riding up when you bend down to place your folded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

He tears his eyes away from your ass when you turn around, pulling but the duvet for you to slip beneath. 

You happily hop beside him, “Oh god you’re bed is soft. . .” 

Yoongi chuckles, “You’ll sleep well then.” 

You mirror his position, smiling softly, “I don’t think the bed is what will make me sleep well tonight.” 

He gnaws at his bottom lip, “What do you mean?” 

You don’t respond verbally, instead you lean forward and press a light, warm kiss to Yoongi’s lips. 

Immediately his body ignites in fire, his hand flying up to rest against your cheek. That’s as far as it goes, though, because the kiss is over just as quickly as it started. 

“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You whisper, reaching behind you and turning off the lamp on your side. 

Yoongi grins, feeling his stomach swarm with butterflies. You move to rest your head on his chest, intertwining your legs with his. Yoongi holds you tight, his face alight with joy, “Goodnight.” he whispers back. 

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

[songbirdsingingthings]

Midnight Revelations - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by @luluwiie​ :

Given your gift for writing, I'm honestly utterly surprised your box is not already full :o but this is my chance ! Kuhuhu * robbing hands *

May I request a Todoroki or Bakugo one shot (Just choose whether you feel more inspired with one, another or both) where they are just sharing some moments with reader, and like, they enjoy their time with Reader and when they come back to their dorms, alone in their bedroom, they just realize how much they care for Reader? Like, more than their close friend and partner in crimes ? Like, more in a pining way? I just love emotional epiphanies 😳❤

Tysm if you do this ! CANT WAIT TO READ YOU MORE ❤❤

- Luluv

A/N: YOU’RE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ❤❤❤. I had a lot of fun writing this one since Bakugou is such an interesting character, so I hope you enjoy!! (Also, the song “True Love” by P!NK was playing nonstop in my head while writing this.)

Word Count: 1.9K

If it was within his control, Katsuki Bakugou would be fast asleep in his own bed by now. It made sense to him - the sky was completely dark making the stars clearly visible and it was already past 10:30 p.m., so why on earth was he awake? The short and simplest answer yielded the same result; you. How you had wedged yourself in between him and his strict sleep schedule, Bakugou had no idea, so here he was, sat with a grimace on his face as you tried to work out the last math problem on the long homework sheet Ectoplasm had assigned.

“Wait, so when it’s a hyperbola, it’s a²- b² = c²?” You ask, glancing in between the blonde-haired boy sat next to you and the sheet full of conic section equations. Bakugou just looked at you with a mixture of a tired and dumbfounded expression.

“No, idiot, it’s a²+ b² = c² because the standard form uses subtraction. It’s the other way around for ellipses.” He explains gruffly, taking your mechanical pencil and writing down the equation roughly. However, due to the sheer force of his hand on the poor little pencil, the led snapped off. You laughed a little at the outburst that followed shortly after.

“Bakugou, don’t press so hard, the lead is thinner.” You say, taking the pencil from his hand gingerly. He simply scoffs in return.

“Yeah, well, normal pencils don’t do that. Get better ones next time.” He hurumphs, leaning back in his chair and letting his head hang off the back. He remains like this for a few minutes while you scribble down the rest of your equations, ultimately coming to a solution.

“Okay, I think I got it! Is it… (y+5)²/9 - (x - 4)²/25?” With a hesitant voice and a hopeful expression, you push the homework sheet in front of Bakugou to hopefully gain his approval. You wince as he scans your work carefully, raising his eyebrows on certain occasions. Finally, he sets the paper down and slides it back over to you. “Well?” You ask, a little exasperated.

“Yeah, that’s the correct answer.” With a sigh of relief you slumped back into your chair with a smile on your face. However, that only lasted for a few seconds. “Wait, then what the hell were those facial expressions when you were looking at it?” You ask, taking the math sheet and putting it in a folder that was then shoved into your school bag.

“Your handwriting is shit.” Is all Bakugou had to say as he stood up and stretched his arms out. You roll your eyes and glance at the clock.

“Damn, it’s already 11:15.” You murmur, letting one of your hands card through your hair, massaging your head and releasing the tension that was built up by doing several pages of pre-calc. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t need to stay this late to help me out, so I really appreciate it.” You say, expressing your gratitude to the blonde. Bakugou rubs his eyes before slinging his bag over his shoulder, letting his blazer stay unbuttoned and his tie loose around his neck. You had to admit, his somewhat disheveled look did look quite attractive on him, but if you told him that he would either never let you hear the end of it or get pissed off for commenting on his fashion. He already got enough of that from his parents, apparently. 

“Yeah, I didn’t, and now thanks to you I’m gonna be tired as hell in the morning.” He complains, opening the door to your dorm to exit.

“You know, a cold compress does wonders for eyebags.” You say, a mischievous grin on your face. He narrows his eyes and flips you off. “I enjoyed spending time with you too, Bakugou!” And with that, the door to your dorm was closed.

Katsuki felt like a zombie by the time he got to his own dorm. He didn’t even bother putting his school bag on his desk or arranging his shoes by the door like he usually does. Instead, he just let the brown shoulder bag slump onto the floor as he fumbled to get his shoes off. Why the hell had you made him stay for so long? He finished all of his homework hours before you did, and still, he had to remain stationed at that wooden low table as he had to keep himself busy while you plugged away at your own work. After about an hour, looking through his phone got incredibly boring so he moved on to looking around your room, taking in all of the things that made it up. Of course, he wasn’t doing this to try to get to know you more, he already knew all he needed to… right? But as his eyes raked over the photos and decor of your room, the more glimpses he got into your personal life, so he stopped immediately.

Bakugou did make an effort to change his clothes. Peeling his blazer from his arms and hanging it up haphazardly in his closet along with his white button up. He tugged on a random black shirt and swapped his uniform pants for pajama ones and finally, finally, clambered into his bed. And, although he tried hard to make his brain shut off and just let him enter a dreamless sleep, his mind began to wander. He blamed his delirious nature for letting his neurons take him from place to place, situation to situation, until they finally projected an image of you into his head. It was a simple display of you and a recent one, too. Just Y/N L/N, sat at the little wooden table with her head perched on one of her hands with a stupid mechanical pencil in her hand. Did her hair always kind of frame her face like that? He wondered, scrunching his closed eyes. It didn’t look as horrible today, he supposed. Bakugou let his eyes flutter open, only to see that his digital clock read a clear 12:04 a.m. in electric red. He sighed and let his gaze fall on the ceiling right above him. Why was he thinking of you this late in the evening? And, to his surprise, he realized that he felt much more at home in your dorm room than he did right now, in his own space.

“What the hell…” He muttered, turning on his bedside lamp. His room was shed in a soft light, illuminating only the nearest furniture and himself. If he wasn’t able to go asleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t let this time go to waste. Picking up the book on his shelf that he was most recently into, he flipped through the pages to find his place and started reading again. He would never admit it, but Pride and Prejudice was turning out to be a much better read than expected. Bakugou found the main heroine to be much more likeable than any others he had read about. Her charisma and wit satisfied him where other characters were lacking, and the way she refused to be phased by an arrogant and sometimes brash guy who pushed her buttons constantly… He let the book fall to the ground without so much of a care as realizations flooded his brain. You put up with him. Whenever he was acting rude or was teasing you without relent, you would just simply roll your eyes and fire back. He put up with you, too. All your unreasonable habits, like staying up way too late, he was still by your side. Why?

“I…” Katsuki forced himself to look into the mirror. He saw his reflection to be way out of the norm. His eyes were wide, his posture was perfect, and his cheeks were red. “I like her.” He let the words flow freely from his mouth. With one more glance to the clock by his bedside, he grabbed a hoodie and shoved his head through it while opening his door and heading straight to yours. He knew from all of the prior knowledge on you stored in his brain and the light that shown beneath your door that you were, in fact, still awake. With three soft knocks, your door swung open to reveal you. Clad in soft looking pajama shorts and a flimsy top, your hair was a mess and your eyes were drooping. Bakugou never thought you could look so beautiful.

“Bakugou, it’s way past your bedtime.” You quip, your voice mimicking a doting parent. Bakugou shoved his way past you into your room and began to lightly pace. Your once joking smile fell into a confused frown, your eyes starting to swim with concern. “Seriously, Katsuki, what’s up? You’ve never stayed up this late except for that one time I insisted you did because a once in a lifetime meteor shower was on full display. I mean, you complained about it of course, but I knew you actually liked it because your eyes-”

“Just, shut it!” The blonde finally says. You pull back slightly, surprised at his words. “You write your twos and sevens weird, some of your habits tend to be unproductive, and sometimes I just can not stand you, but I like you.” The two of you are silent for a moment before you take a step towards him.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask, your voice soft like velvet and your eyes twinkling. Despite all of his reservations, his hard exterior and the sneer he always wore melted.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You shook your head and took another step forward.

“Don’t answer it like you're confirming that I correctly solved a math problem. Answer it like you love me.” Bakugou’s cheeks flamed at your sudden confidence, but he took a step forward so that your bodies were almost touching.

“I love you Y/N.” And with that, a wide grin spread across your face. Your arms wrapped themselves around the blonde’s neck and you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. It was slow in pace but fierce in passion as he grew more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer so that you were flush against his chest. Breathless and red in the face, Bakugou finally pulls back to see your ecstatic face. “Oi, what’s with the face?” He says, flustered.

“Nothing,” you say, going into your bathroom with a little towelette. He raises his eyebrows. “I told you before, a cold compress works wonders for the inevitable eye bags that you will have in the morning, and this is the perfect size.” He huffs in amusement and plucks the towelette from your hands. “Plus, you’ll have to return it to me. It gives you another excuse to hang out with me.” Bakugou finally earns a little confidence and his trademarked smirk spreads across his face.

“I don’t need an excuse to hang out with you. You’ll need my help again on the homework.”

“Always the charmer,” you quip, walking with him so that he was standing in the hallway and you in the doorway. “See ya tomorrow,” you smile, pecking him on the lips.

“See ya, Y/N.” His blush was still prevalent, but his eyebrows narrowed and a scowl replaced the smirk. “And throw out those mechanical pencils, they’re absolute shit.”

“Anything for you, Lover!” You joke, closing the door. Lover, he thinks. He can get used to a nickname like that.

[imagines-oneshots-galore]

For Science

A/N: Hello all, it’s been a hot fucking minute. Some things have changed in how I write/ When i write/ etc. So I have no idea when I’ll get the time to write. Which brings me to the reason for this fic. I started watching the originals, and was immediately obsessed. Personally, I’m an Elijah girl, but this popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out fast enough. Wrote this in two hours 😅 Hope it’s okay! It was my first time writing for the Mikaelsons.

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 1,587

Summary: It’s the Fourth of July, Klaus isn’t home, Rebekah is oddly silent and Elijah, Hayley and Y/N decide to conduct a scientific experiment.

Warnings: Some saucy implications, swearing, Klaus, innuendos

AO3

Masterlist

Rebekah was up to something, a notion they could all agree on. Elijah, Hayley and Y/N sat on the couch in the living room of the Mansion, not hearing a sound despite knowing she was home. The one person who wasn’t present, was Klaus.

Thus, Rebekah was definitely up to something, but what it could be?

Lots of possibilities, with many different levels of peril, all designed specifically for one Niklaus Mikaelson. They knew they should probably get involved, especially Y/N, whose very boyfriend was the one at risk. But they also knew the outcome would be spectacular, so they all silently decided to do nothing. For now, Y/N would continue to write on her computer, and Hayley and Elijah would continue reading the same book together.

It may be a national holiday, but they had other things that required their attention at the moment.

A loud crash came from above them, followed by a curse only heard by the ones with supernatural hearing. They all looked up to the ceiling, right where they knew that Klaus and Y/N’s room was located. Simultaneously, they looked back to each other, one more silent conversation later, and they returned to their activities.

Hayley felt a buzz against her hip, and she knew it was Elijah’s. She reached between them to grab the phone, opening the notification.

“Klaus just texted saying he was on his way, based on the colorful vocabulary, I’d say the negotiation with Marcel didn’t go as planned,” Hayley said quietly to the group, not loud enough for Rebekah to hear as she showed the text to Elijah.

“He said he’ll be here in a few minutes. I wonder, should we tell her of her expedited deadline?” He muttered, thumbs poised working as he replied to his brother.

“Hell no,” Y/N laughed, and soon as it happened, the three paused, making sure Rebekah wasn’t listening into the conversation now. When nothing was heard yet, they all let out a collective breath.

“I want to see this play out, without interference” She said, softer this time as a wicked smirk came upon all of their faces.

“A scientific experiment, if you will,” Hayley said, suppressing the urge to laugh.

“Yes, for science.” Elijah said, and without another word, they all resumed what they were doing moments ago.

As promised, minutes later, Hayley and Elijah heard the faint hum of Niklaus’s vehicle. Apparently, Rebekah did as well, judging by the way they all heard another curse, followed by a frantic shuffling, and then she ran down the stairs and into the foyer.

She was slightly out of breath, and her eyes looked wild. The most damning piece of evidence was the lone feather sitting in her hair.

It didn’t take a conversation to know they would keep that information to themselves. Letting the cards fall where they may, in the name of knowledge. Rebekah smoothed out her shirt, letting out a breath as she walked over to sit next to Y/N on the adjoining couch. She picked up a random book as the car drew closer.

“I hope that I can trust you all to agree that I was here the whole time,” Rebekah said sweetly, an underlying threat laced in her words as she kept her gaze on the book.

“As long as my room isn’t destroyed,” Y/N said just as sweetly, and Rebekah paled slightly. Y/N may still be human, but she was still able to make Rebekah gulp.

“Rebekah…” She began to warn, right as they heard Klaus make it to the driveway. Only moments now.

“I will fix it myself but please say nothing,” She whispered, speaking fast, pleadingly, and before Y/N could agree or deny, Klaus sped into the mansion. His posture was tense, and his brow was furrowed. They all knew Hayley’s suspicion was correct.

“Marcellus Gerard is a conniving twit and I will be glad when we finally dethrone the treacherous bastard,” He huffed, as his gaze shifted to his girlfriend, and he softened in front of their eyes. He plopped down behind her, pulling her body closer to his chest. His hands traced down her arms as he whispered loud enough for only her to hear. Not that any of them would want to hear whatever it was. Based on their facial expressions, it wasn’t hard to guess what was being said.

“I rather think a long relaxing wash in my multi-headed shower sounds rather spectacular before the upcoming night of festivities” Klaus grinned into her skin. She shivered as she felt his warm breath on her neck, and she began to nod her head. But then she opened her eyes and gazed back upon Rebekah, with the damn feather in her hair.

She quickly thought of an excuse.

“I’ll be up in a moment, I have a couple more things I need to write down before I forget them.” She said, a little breathy. Both at the thought of what was promised, and her being put on the spot. Then another thought crossed her mind, as Klaus nodded, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

If she didn’t say anything, she would surely not get to experience whatever Klaus was cooking up in his gorgeous head. But if she told him. He might forgive Rebekah’s attempted prank in favor of private time with his girlfriend. She locked eyes with Rebekah, and saw that she knew what Y/N had on the line.

After a tense millisecond, Y/N rolled her eyes, and let Klaus get up without another word. Rebekah breathed out imperceptibly, and Hayley rested her mouth against Elijah’s shoulder to conceal her smile.

Right before he left, Klaus turned and looked at Rebekah.

“There’s a feather in your hair sister,” He said, before turning back around, as Rebekah frantically pulled the feather from her blonde curls.

Klaus finally left with a pleased smile on his face, and suddenly they all felt a bit guilty.

Only for a moment though, he had staked and tortured (except for Y/N and Hayley of course, though Hayley was not immune to his taunts and quips) them many times over the centuries.

“Thanks for telling me,” She growled quietly, and Elijah casually looked up at his sister.

“For the results to be as accurate as possible, we could not interfere” He said matter of factly, as Hayley nearly snorted, her hand gripping his button up shirt. He reached up to grab hers, and brought it to his lips.

Before Rebekah had the chance to ask what the hell he was talking about, they collectively heard Klaus open his door, and then a mechanical grinding. Something that sounded like a liquid fell to the floor as Klaus cried out in clear surprise. Moments later, and a loud wooshing sound was heard.

It was silent for a few moments, and everyone waited in bated breaths for what was to come next.

“REBEKAHHH!” Klaus screamed dramatically, and before the name was even finished, she was out of the door, running away like her life depended on it. Probably because it did.

The group busted out laughing, and Hayley and Y/N looked to each other. Another wooshing sound and there he was.

Covered in thick chocolate syrup and a shit ton of feathers stood a murderous Klaus Mikaelson. Even the stoic Elijah couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips at the clever prank.

“First, Marcellus turns down a perfectly good exchange of power, then my sister proverbially tars and feathers me, and now I begin to realize that my sweet Y/N let her devoted boyfriend walk right into a trap,” He said, continuing the dramatics as always.

“Happy American Independence Day brother” Elijah sighed, as fireworks started up outside. Hayley turned excitedly to the window, and his gaze turned to her, adoration clear on his face. Without another word, he stood up, Hayley cradled in his arms as she yelped at the sudden movement.

“If you’ll excuse us, I will be going to take my partner to watch the fireworks,” And he ran out of the room before Klaus had the chance to argue, Hayley’s giggle echoing in the wind.

Klaus huffed indignantly, getting himself all worked up again. Y/N lifted the laptop from her lap, setting it to the side so she could make her way to her whining boyfriend.

“I’m going to find Rebekah, and when I do I’ll…” He ranted, Y/N wrapping her arms around his neck, not caring about the sticky transfer of chocolate sauce and feathers onto her clothes. His arms wound around her waist as she quietly interrupted his threats.

“Pretend to laugh it off, to lull her into a false sense of security. Then you’ll come back to me to plan your revenge,” Her lips ghosted over the skin of his neck as she spoke, before her tongue darted up to lick a bit of the dark syrup.

“For now, I promised you a nice long shower,” She said as she pulled away, and met his signature smirk.

“You are truly wicked my dear,” He all but growled, pulling her harder against his body as she giggled. “I believe you are correct, I will most definitely be needing your assistance, love,” And as soon as the words left his lips, he picked her up and ran them to the washroom, the need for revenge forgotten for now.

A solid day's work in the name of Science.

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[rein-ette]

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)