#even if they know they both did that block TOGETHER IN PERFECT SYNC
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hishoukoku · 1 year ago
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❁KageHina❁
I love these two dorks so much!
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g1rld1ary · 2 months ago
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hope your requests r open! lockwood x reader where lockwood think reader likes george (but she doesnt) and reader thinks lockwood likes lucy (he doesnt). basically just a whole bunch of misunderstandings with angst and a happy ending please <3
miscommunications - anthony lockwood x fem!reader
wc: 6316
cw: swearing, angstish, series typical injuries
i am SO sorry this took so long lovie i had the biggest writers block but i loved loved loved this request so thank u for sending it in i hope i did it justice!!!! love u xoxo
Lockwood and Co was absolutely the weirdest psychical detective agency you’d ever been a part of. Not only were the actual case methods… unusual, but you were a bunch of kids. You didn’t know anything about running a company; the logistics of managing four teenagers and trying to be responsible whilst also experiencing hormones and teen dramas, all while living in the same house with no adult supervision. But it was great, most of the time at least.
However, even teen psychical detectives weren’t immune to the trap of cliques and you often ended up spending much more time with some members than others. For example, it often ended up being Lockwood and Lucy, and you and George.
It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision or something that happened because you didn’t like the other two members of the agency, it just tended to be the easiest decision. Lockwood and Lucy were undeniably in perfect sync on the field, and you and George worked better in the research department, so it only made sense that those pairs spent more time together.
The only problem? You were totally in love with Lockwood. And you were pretty sure he was basically fucking married to Lucy Carlyle. They were the dream team on and off the field, you were half convinced they could actually read each other's minds. Plus, they were both genuinely amazing people. Lucy was your best friend and roommate at Portland Row, and you loved her with all your heart. And Lockwood? Well, there were a million and one good things to say about Anthony Lockwood. So who could blame you if you spent more time with George? It hurt less than watching the love story unfolding in front of you, and George was good company anyhow.
You couldn’t avoid them though, nor did you really want to, so life was testing your limits as to how much Locklyle you could handle at once.
You and George had been cooped up in the library most of the day looking through archives and research for the agency’s next case, so you’d been glad to get home and have a long warm shower in the evening. Lockwood and Lucy were off on a smaller case together so you’d had the bathroom all to yourself while George was cooking; a small luxury when living with three other teenagers.
Your hair was still wet as you sat down at the dining table in the kitchen, droplets sinking into the paper of the thinking cloth. It was a lovely dinner with George, he’d made your favourite meal upon request, the most glorious dish of butter chicken you thought might’ve ever been made. Everything should have been perfect, except that it was just the two of you. Again. It seemed like you never had family dinners as a four anymore, you and George stuck eating across from each other amongst empty chairs and untouched plates.
“So, anything new?” You made conversation in decent humour, picking at the chicken you weren’t quite as pleased to be eating anymore.
“Anything new in the twenty minutes we’ve been apart all day?” George replied in his characteristic dry tone. You rolled your eyes, trying to stay playful.
“Just checking.”
You took the cleanup after George did all the cooking, switching on the radio as you stood in front of the sink and washing the dishes in peaceful quiet. It was past midnight when the door jingled and creaked open and you could hear Lockwood and Lucy’s tired chatter floating through the old house. Even their damn voices belonged together, making the perfect cadence. You calculated whether you could get away with running up the stairs and pretending to be asleep before they really made it inside, however, agents are known for their speed, and you could hear boots hitting the floor before you could move.
“You’re still up?” Lucy asked as a greeting, stretching out her arms with a sigh. You smiled, shrugging as you began pouring hot water into the mugs you’d prepared earlier, making you all tea how you liked it. Lucy took hers gratefully, adding in the sugar as she pleased, but you were still yet to see Lockwood, taking the initiative to prepare it for him.
He came in a few minutes later, smiling softly as he looked at you.
“You’re a godsend.” He took the mug gratefully, visibly relaxing as the heat penetrated his body. You just smiled, turning back to the dishes.
“Thanks for the tea, I’ll head up to the shower,” Lucy said, patting you gratefully on the arm as she passed. That left you and Lockwood in the kitchen in careful silence.
You talked about nothing for a while, Lockwood filling you in on the tabloids he’d read the night before, and you told him all about the music and news you’d been listening to on the radio.
“How was the research, how’s George?” Lockwood was beside you now, taking a few of the plates you’d finished drying. His tone sounded almost bitter, but you figured it was his exhaustion taking hold.
“It was fine, I think we’re pretty much good to go for this weekend. Oh, you should have seen it! George absolutely stacked it on the steps of the library earlier. He’s fine, of course, but I nearly pissed my pants laughing, it was so funny.” Lockwood managed an unenthused chuckle, turning away to put the cutlery away in the drawer. “How was the case?” Lockwood made a noise of affirmation, coming back next to you, your shoulders brushing lightly.
“As well as cases can go,” He said, smile back on his face. You listened to him tell the bloody details of the case, illustrating his own heroic moves with a full production of actions and impressions, drawing giggles from you as he fought around the room. “And of course, Luce was brilliant as always, saved my arse for the millionth time.”
Fuck. Of course Lockwood was singing Lucy’s praises again, right in front of you! You couldn’t catch a break. You finally got a moment alone with the boy you had a massive embarrassing crush on and he was talking about your best friend! You could feel your smile fading fast, jealousy bubbling in your chest as you imagined them out on a case together, all quick banter and soft touches while you were at home. With George.
You tried to stay obliging, giving him a small smile and finishing up the drying quickly.
“Well, I should be off to bed. Goodnight, Lockwood.”
“You’re not gonna read with me?” You could have sworn that Lockwood had disappeared and been replaced with a kicked puppy the way his eyes were making your insides twist with guilt. You often sat up in the library with Lockwood; he could never sleep and you often made up for the late nights in the mornings, starting your days hours after everyone else. You held eye contact for a moment, willing yourself to be strong.
It didn’t work, and you found yourself back in your familiar spot in front of the fire, digging into your novel as he flipped through a magazine. When your eyes began to strain in the low lamplight you closed it softly, chancing a glance over at Lockwood. He looked almost perfect in the moment, yellow light illuminating the highlights in his face, his eyes glinting as he found humour in the dramatised tabloids.
He looked up suddenly, his senses evidently alerting him to your staring. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, curiosity seeping from his features. You smiled softly, unable to give him any explanation, so you were glad when he returned it in a way that made his whole face light up. You looked away first, studying your hands intently as you heard Lockwood breathe a subtle laugh.
Another case later, you were going crazy. You’d hit an obstacle (of course) and the case had started going awry. A few relicmen interfering with the site threw you all off your game, the original case put aside in favour of your lives. You and Lucy had been together when the ambush happened, both fighting as a team to protect yourselves. Admittedly you weren’t as fluid as her and Lockwood, but you blamed that on the lack of opportunity. You were doing pretty well for yourselves, all things considered. Still, you were grateful for the two boys to come bursting in like heroes, rapiers at the ready. What you didn’t appreciate was the way Lockwood immediately leapt to Lucy’s side, falling into their familiar rhythm. That left George to help you, the both of you sharing the quickest of looks, your eye roll lost to the fight.
You’d all made it out alive but were severely battered and disheartened. You’d all sustained a few cuts and bruises, you knew you were bleeding from somewhere in your midsection, but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet so you pushed through.
You also weren’t particularly glad to see Lockwood looking at Lucy like she’d hung all the stars in the sky in the cab on the way back. He hadn’t spared you a glance.
“I know this wasn’t exactly what we planned,” He said, still not making eye contact with you, “But we’re all okay so I think that’s a win. Luce, good job on the defence and keeping the relicmen at bay. George, brilliant catch with the source, mate, you saved us all. And, uh, good work.” He looked over briefly, but you thought he was looking slightly above you still. He didn’t even care enough to look at you on the case! It was absolutely maddening.
Sometimes, like now, you wondered why you even liked him. He was obsessed with another girl, barely paid you attention and had you begging for crumbs of affection. And yet, sometimes you were sure he liked you back. The soft smiles, the time together in the dead of night, the moments he showed you such gentle care. Lockwood was a puzzle you just couldn’t solve, but you were really, really trying.
You weren’t in the best mood when you all arrived home. Your case had been compromised, you were injured, and Lockwood was basically ignoring you. The night was not looking good. And, on top of all that, George called the first shower so it was unlikely there’d be any hot water left by the time you got in. Silently, you peeled off your overcoat, hanging it on your designated hook before discarding your rapier in the umbrella bin. The cut on your side was beginning to sting, the adrenaline having worn off in the cab, but you powered through, figuring you’d take care of it when you had privacy in the bathroom. Instead, you followed Lucy into the kitchen, chatting away as she made some toast.
She’d already left when you got up from the dining table, motivating yourself to make some tea and something to eat. Your body was starting to ache though, and you really didn’t want to be moving much longer. It was all mostly fine, though uncomfortable, until you were reaching up for the sugar for the tea. It was a little out of your reach up on one of the higher cupboards which usually wasn’t so much of an issue — you were a high jumper — but raising your arm above your head was making it feel like your cut was splitting open, pulling a strangled hiss from you.
“What is that?” Lockwood’s voice made you jump, the harshness unfamiliar. You turned slowly, folding your arms across your stomach in vain.
“It’s nothing, I was gonna look after it in a bit.” It was the first time you’d made proper eye contact with Lockwood all night, and he looked pissed.
“Bullshit,” He argued, gaining proximity, “Sit down.” You weren’t typically in the habit of being bossed around by a man, but you could tell Lockwood was serious so took a seat. He stomped around the kitchen rather dramatically, tossing you an ice pack from the freezer. You placed it tentatively over the cut, groaning and throwing your head back when it stung. Your breathing was shallow, erratic as you waited for the icepack to do its job and start numbing the pain.
When you unscrewed your eyes Lockwood was standing at the kitchen bench, aggressively buttering your toast. You watched him put together the meal you’d started, all with deep furrowed eyebrows, ending with him placing it in front of you, looking at you expectantly. You smiled at him despite the pain in your side, pulling the mug of tea closer. He’d made it just as you liked it, too much sugar and a bit of honey. You sipped it pathetically, tension bubbling between you and the boy in front of you.
“What’s new?” You asked in what you hoped was a lighthearted tone. Lockwood wasn’t impressed.
“Eat,” He urged, “You’ll already be weak from blood loss, don’t let yourself get dizzy from hunger too.” You took an exaggerated bite of the toast to appease him, melting into a moan when the food hit your mouth. Somehow, it tasted better than all the millions of times you’d made your own. Lockwood had found the perfect balance of butter and bread, soft in the middle but the crusts were still crunchy and satisfying. The corner of his mouth flicked into the smallest smile seeing you enjoy the food he’d made you, but it was clear he still wasn’t happy with you.
You continued to eat as he got up from his seat, disappearing out into the hallway for a moment. He returned with the first aid kit and you groaned. This was going to suck. Lockwood, ever the gentleman, asked for your permission to start helping you, lifting your already cherry red case shirt up to tuck under your bra, out of his way as he examined the cut. It wasn’t too deep, you didn’t think you’d need stitches or anything, but it was long, wrapping halfway across your stomach.
“This is going to hurt,” He said simply, but you could have sworn there was some gentleness there. Lightly, Lockwood began to clean your wound. Initially, it wasn’t so bad as he cleaned what had already spread and dried away from the cut which lulled you into a false sense of security. You cried out as he touched the wound itself for the first time, grabbing onto Lockwood’s shoulder for stability, though you were already seated.
“It’s okay, I’ll be quick. Promise,” He hushed you, offering his hand for you to grab instead. You clutched onto it for dear life, squeezing until both your fingers were turning white. Lockwood never uttered a complaint, working away at cleaning and treating the wound one-handed until it was done, stopping every so often for breaks when he thought you needed them.
When he was done he looked up at you from his position on his knees and it suddenly felt like the world around you was quiet. Lockwood’s eyes were so pretty. You’d always thought so, but it was particularly relevant when he was only inches away from you, sparkling in the amber light of the kitchen. Neither of you spoke, staring into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t want to end this moment between you but you didn’t know how to make it last. Well, you did, but that was highly inappropriate given Lockwood was in love with another girl.
“Thanks,” You settled on awkwardly, cringing as Lockwood seemed to realise where he was and what was happening.
“Any time,” He jumped up, backing up towards the sink and busying himself with pouring his own cup of tea.
You left the kitchen shortly after, unwilling to sit in the awkwardness any longer. The first step was to get out of the soiled clothes and clean yourself up a bit, the second was to flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of the attic.
“I’m going to die alone,” You said to the roof, catching the attention of your roommate.
“Don’t be stupid,” Lucy said simply, “You’re hot, anyone would be lucky to have you.” That pulled a smile from you, tilting your head back to look over at Lucy on her bed.
“Thanks, Luce. You know what I mean though.” Lucy rolled her eyes with a soft smile.
“If Lockwood can’t see all your brilliant, attractive qualities then he’s a prat.”
“I’m sure he sees many of my great qualities — he hired me. The issue is that he’s blinded by your brilliance.” It was a conversation you’d had countless times before; you decreeing Lockwood’s love for Lucy and Lucy being disgusted by it.
“You know that I have zero interest in Lockwood. Like, zero. Honestly, I’d sooner get with you than him.”
“Alright, alright, I get it. I have terrible taste in men,” You laughed, mostly cheered up.
Lucy flicked off the lamp, putting you to sleep with a story from before you’d joined the agency.
Lockwood had a similar conversation with George a few weeks later. It was after another case, all had gone well and the four of you were strewn about the house, tending to various chores that needed to get done. Lucy was mopping the floors, you were organising and putting away the mountain of books that had been used over the case, and Lockwood and George were both in the basement, tidying the store room and going over paperwork.
Lockwood looked at George, hunched over the form he was filling in, and wondered how to broach the subject. He thought you might’ve been avoiding him lately, which wasn’t exactly wrong, and thought it might be because you were trying to make your feelings for George known. In fact, it had nothing to do with George and everything to do with Lockwood. You figured if Lockwood hadn’t noticed by now that you liked him he never would, so you’d started the mountainous task of getting over him. It was unsurprisingly extremely difficult, given you lived and worked with the man. Still, you were doing the best you could.
“So, gone on any, uh, dates recently?” The sentence was awkward and Lockwood cringed. It was so unlike him and George to talk about anything emotional, especially romance.
“What are you on about?” George didn’t even bother looking up, figuring it was just one of Lockwood’s moments that he’d move on from soon enough.
“It’s just, you’ve never really dated anyone, at least while living here, so I was just asking. Um, maybe there’s someone in the house you’d like to take out?” George looked up, turning his wheelie chair to face Lockwood, resigning himself to the conversation he knew would follow.
“Yes, Lockwood. Can’t you hear Lucy and I having loud, passionate sex every night?” Both boys rolled their eyes.
“That’s not what I meant,” Lockwood grumbled.
“Then say what you mean. You’re trying to figure out if I like her because you do and you’re too scared to say anything about it.” Lockwood was silenced, caught out with his true intentions. “Let’s face it, you’re about as subtle as a car horn; you moon over her. She’s the only one who hasn’t noticed.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Lockwood mumbled, “She likes you.” George burst out into uncharacteristic laughter, wheezing and gripping his stomach.
“God, you’re daft!” He laughed, “The two of you are perfect for each other, you’re hopeless.”
Lockwood made an excuse to leave, something about folding his laundry. George watched him go, rolling his eyes before turning back to his paperwork. If the two of you weren’t going to get his exceedingly obvious hints, you were going to have to work it out between yourselves.
Your angst was bleeding into the company. You were trying (and failing) to get over Lockwood which was not only making you generally miserable, but it was impeding your ability to be a good agent.
You were on a relatively easy case, and for some reason you’d been paired with Lockwood, a rarity. Lucy and George were on the second floor of the house scoping out where the source may be whilst you and Lockwood were on the ground floor, preparing your defences and putting on the tea kettle. It was extremely awkward. Lockwood was trying to make conversation and you were trying to keep it as short as possible. If you fell into conversation you’d be reminded of Lockwood’s many wonderful qualities, and it would just get harder to get over him.
“Did you end up finishing that book?” He asked as you pulled the chains out of their duffel bags. You perked up for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. You had finished the novel and absolutely loved it, you wanted nothing more than to talk about it. Still, you controlled yourself, shrugging off the question with a “Yeah, it was pretty good.” Lockwood hesitated, caught off guard by your answer. Usually you were keen to discuss what you’d been reading, especially if you liked it.
“Are you alright?” He asked, softness in his voice and eyes. Your heart clenched for a moment, you didn’t want to worry him.
“I’m fine, Lockwood, promise.” You busied yourself with arranging the salt bombs but you could still feel his eyes on you.
The case progressed, all four of you ending up on the second level of the house to confront the visitor, each splitting up to cover the different rooms. You were in the master bedroom when the en suite bathroom caught your eye. You could have sworn you saw movement near the shower and crept towards it, trying to stay focused and address the urgency on hand.
You were immediately distracted by the similarities between the en suite and the bathroom in Portland Row. Set out almost identically, it was almost scary how similar they were; George’s soap (fancy and way more expensive than the one the rest of you bought) was on the ledge of the shower, and Lucy’s blue hairbrush sat by the basin.
It wasn’t necessarily surprising that either of those items were there, they were both bought for cheap at a grocery store so ought to have been common, but it surprised you nonetheless. You’d been so distracted by the weird similarities that you didn’t notice the figure floating through the shower curtain until its translucent hand was beside your face. You panicked, the only thing you shouldn’t have been doing, and flailed about in the tiny room, rapier knocking bottles off shelves and creating a general racket that was not pleasing the ghost.
You stumbled on the tiles trying to get your footing and get the fuck out but slid on a slippery substance — probably conditioner from the bottle you’d sent flying to the ground. It was a comedy of errors you would have quoted as impossible in an old slapstick comedy, but there you were, and the consequences were infinitely more dire than those faced by Charlie Chaplin.
The proceeding moments vanished from your memory; a violent fall, a sickening crack and an overwhelming darkness. Three more moments of light where you caught visions of the ghost, Lockwood, and aggressive flashing lights.
You woke up in hospital. You wished it was the hazy, unsure innocence that you saw in movies, but the incessant beeping and sanitised smell had you groaning as you gained consciousness. Lockwood was slumped over in the chair next to your bed, breathing uncharacteristically calm as he slept.
You watched him sleep in the least creepy way you could manage, admiring his features when they weren’t scrunched up in worry or stress. He must’ve felt you watching him as his eyes fluttered open, doe eyes overflowing with relief as he saw you awake.
“You’re up, thank god,” He said, pulling his chair up even closer to you.
“Why am I here?” You asked, examining the various wires and machines you were plugged into.
“What aren’t you here for?” Lockwood joked and you tried for a smile. He straightened himself out and continued, “Linear skull fracture, concussion, scary-looking cut on your forehead. We think you slipped and bashed your head on the countertop.” You grimaced, the pain of the fall manifesting in your head.
“That would be right,” You agreed sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in your hospital gown, “And the hand?” Your left hand was bandaged up so thick it looked more like an oven mitt than a hand.
“Ghost touch.” Lockwood didn’t sound so happy and casual now.
“Oh.”
“What happened? It’s not like you to put yourself in danger like that; it was stupid and reckless.” You didn’t understand why Lockwood was getting so angry. Clearly, you didn’t intend to get injured, it was an unfortunate accident that you would have avoided if you could.
“As opposed to you, who never gets injured and always sticks to the plan?” You couldn’t help the venom seeping into your voice but you detested being criticised by Lockwood when he was just as bad, usually worse.
“This isn’t about me,” He said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep his cool while you were vulnerable. You were angry though and didn’t want to back down.
“Of course this is about you, Lockwood! You wouldn’t blink an eye if it was you who’d ended up here, or George or Lucy. It was an honest mistake, why are you being such a dick about it?” You were raising your voice but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, the tension that had been bubbling for weeks coming to the surface.
“Because you could have died —”
“So could any of us, that’s the job! I still see you jumping head-first into danger.”
Lockwood groaned your name, hands in his hair and pulling in frustration. “You’re misunderstanding me, I just don’t want to watch you get hurt—”
“Then close your fucking eyes, Lockwood. I fell and I got injured. It happens and I resent having you treat me differently than the others. Fuck this, I want Lucy here instead, or George.”
“Of course you want George here, why wouldn’t you?”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” If you could stand you would be shoving past him and out the door, but you were at a significant disadvantage being hooked up to so many machines, stuck in your place.
“You know what I mean, you and George are such a close pair, aren’t you? Always working together and laughing about your own inside jokes,” He spat and the burning anger only got hotter.
“Are you fucking crazy right now? Or are you forgetting that you’re the head of this company and therefore you’re the one pairing us together in every case? Or are you so fucking busy making heart eyes at Lucy that you don’t even notice that we’re actually getting work done? Forgive us for trying to make ten hours of research bearable!”
“Heart eyes at Luce? You’re the crazy one, she and I are just friends, I swear. But you and George will make a great couple, I’m sure.”
“George and I couldn’t be less interested in each other! And if you could see past your own nose for once maybe you’d see why!” You all but yelled, surely alerting the whole floor of your argument, “Leave me alone, Lockwood, I don’t want you here anymore.”
Lockwood looked as if he was going to dispute that statement as well but a nurse came to your rescue, clearly hearing the disagreement from outside. She ushered him out, claiming it wasn’t good for your vitals to be getting angry and that you could continue the fight when you were discharged in a few day's time.
Alone in the sterile hospital room, you felt yourself beginning to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and landing on your embarrassing patterned hospital gown. In a perfect world, that conversation would have gone completely differently. In a perfect world, Lockwood’s eyes would have softened when he saw you were awake. He would have confessed how worried he was about you and how much he truly cared for you. He would have brushed his lips across your hand that he was holding, then pressed them again against your own as he admitted how he’d always been in love with you. You didn’t know that it was your own defensive nature that had stopped that from happening.
But it wasn’t a perfect world and you were alone, overwhelmed by the various noises and movements going on around you. You did eventually fall back asleep, a fitful, unsatisfying nap that had you groaning and exhausted when you woke up. You weren’t alone though, which did make you feel better. George and Lucy were sitting next to your bed, deep in a whispered conversation.
“Hey,” You said, shimmying up to a sitting position. They both stopped talking immediately, turning to face you with small smiles on both their faces.
“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked, pulling her chair up to be right next to your bed.
“I’m alright now, just tired and worn down.”
“You scared us,” George added, characteristically stiff but clearly trying to be sensitive.
“I’m sorry,” You admitted, “I really didn’t mean to. And believe me, Lockwood’s already yelled at me enough for it, please just forgive me.” They looked at each other, communicating non-verbally.
“We heard,” George said, “He basically punched a hole in the wall trying to recount it.” He let out a clipped laugh before Lucy shoved him, signature glare working its magic.
“You should really apologise, he’s cut up about it.” Your mouth dropped open as you stared at Lucy. How was this your fault?
“I’m not apologising, he was the one who got angry. Right, George?” You pleaded with him, praying he wouldn’t let you down now.
“I… I don’t think it has to be right now, but you two should get over it after you’ve cooled down a bit.” Ok, it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped he’d say, but it was better than nothing. And better than the moral lesson you knew Lucy would try and impose — what a hypocrite.
“But he was so mean!” You whined, “I seriously just had an unfortunate fall, I didn’t die.”
“But you could have,” George quipped and you rolled your eyes.
“You know it’s because he really cares about you, right? He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t save you.” You couldn’t tell if Lucy’s statement was making you feel better or worse.
“Yeah, really felt like it when he was yelling at me,” You grumbled, fidgeting with the hem of the scratchy blanket.
“Well, you know Lockwood is emotionally constipated,” George added and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter — what a statement to come from George.
“OK,” You agreed finally, “I’ll apologise when we get home. As long as he stops being a massive prick.”
You were discharged a few days later, healing nicely. It would have been sooner, but the head injury worried your nurses and kept you there, not trusting you would stay on bed rest. Lucy came to your rescue, posing as a very concerned caretaker who would ensure your safety.
In fact, it wasn’t Lucy who was enforcing your bedrest. It was George who was cooking every meal and Lockwood doing all the other motherly fussing. You hadn’t discussed your fight yet, both too exhausted and too awkward to broach the subject. You hoped your six-to-eight-week recovery time wouldn’t consist of the same heavy tiredness, but you figured it would improve once the concussion had faded.
The rest of the company had started doing two-man cases so that someone was always home to supervise you. It was a little stifling but you appreciated the effort. It also shook up the status quo of the company, Lockwood and Lucy’s perfect partnership being disrupted by no one wanting to be left at home each time, which was both a blessing and a curse.
In your first few days of being back home at Portland Row, Lockwood was home with you, helping wash your hair. You’d whined so much about how gross it felt, still blood-stained where you cracked your skull open that Lockwood gave up and told you he’d wash it for you. Of course, you’d protested, saying it went way beyond what you could expect of a friend or coworker, but Lockwood would not take no for an answer, justifying that it would be more dangerous to let you do it yourself since you could mess with the stitches since you couldn’t see the back of your own head.
You sat awkwardly in the bath, dressed in an old t-shirt and bikini bottoms to preserve what dignity you could. Lockwood stood outside the bath behind you, preparing the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to his side. The anticipation was destroying you, becoming fidgety and uncomfortable even in the perfectly warm water. The second Lockwood’s slender fingers threaded through your greasy hair you felt your body soften, relaxing into the feeling with no opposition. The feeling was heavenly, the careful but thorough massaging of your scalp could have sent you to sleep in three seconds if you weren’t simultaneously on edge at the proximity.
You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head lolling back subconsciously against Lockwood’s forearms, drawing a small chuckle from him.
“I’m sorry for arguing with you the other day,” You said out of the blue, your voice cutting through the radio that was sitting next to the basin.
“It’s no worries, just forget about it,” Lockwood replied instantly, continuing his labours.
“No, I want to take this seriously. I said some terrible things I didn’t mean and I want you to know that I’m sorry for it. And, as I understand it you think I have some big crush on George which I would just like to disprove. I don’t. Like him like that, I mean.” Lockwood paused for a moment, hands going still in your hair.
“Oh,” He said after some time, “Well thank you for the apology but it is completely unnecessary. I started the argument and I was way out of line, I didn’t mean a word of it. What I meant to convey was that I was worried about you getting hurt because I… care about you. A lot.” You knew that was hard for Lockwood to say, vulnerability never coming easy to him. You turned to face him in the tub, knees pulled up to your chest as your just-rinsed hair dripped down onto your t-shirt.
“I care about you a lot too, Lockwood,” You smiled sweetly, glad you were finally getting over the weird tension that had been between you. Lockwood didn’t look as satisfied.
“No, it’s, fuck. I care about you in a different way than the others. I really like you, like, romantically.”
“Shut up,” You said quickly, not wanting to wake up from a sick dream. There was no way that Anthony Lockwood, after all these years, was telling you that he liked you. Lockwood looked lost for words. Obviously it wasn’t the impassioned reciprocation he hoped for, but it also wasn’t exactly a rejection. What was he supposed to do?
“I, uh, understand if you don’t—”
“Shut up,” You affirmed again. “I have been madly, foolishly in love with you since I started here, and you’re telling me this now? After we’ve screamed at each other and been moping around?” After a moment of him processing your statement, he began to laugh, mouth breaking into one of his light-up-the-room smiles.
“I guess so.” You joined in his laughter, admiring the way his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched as he did it.
“So what now?” You asked once your giggles had died down, leaving you two looking at each other across the edge of the bath.
“Well,” Lockwood inched closer, “We could try this?” He leant in for a soft kiss, pressing his mouth against yours lightly. You subconsciously followed his mouth as he pulled away, unwilling to open your eyes just yet.
“Mmh, maybe we could try that one again?” Lockwood laughed at your daze and happily obliged, swooping back in for a longer, deeper kiss that set your nerves on fire.
And if Lucy and George returned from their case to find the two of you still in the bath fully clothed, that was none of your business — and neither was the ten pounds that George reluctantly handed Lucy.
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uwuwriting · 4 years ago
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Kids getting their quirks w/ Todoroki, Deku and Bakugou
Request: *cracks knuckles* uH may i pls have a headcanon for half half bastard, deku, and king explosive murder when their child’s quirk manifests? have a great day (or night lol) iajsmsjsnsk :D 💕- anonymous 
Okay my baby fever isn’t over but now I know the main factor. Apart from my new obsession with dad Nanami, my period is also here so yay. I’m in pain. SO let’s feed my baby fever even more with some pro hero dads bc I love them and cherish them. Nanami is still ruling my heart though. Love ya💖💖💖
masterlist II rules
warnings: babies!!!!, domestic au, dad au, fluffy, no warnings really, unless it causes you baby fever so beware of the baby fluffs.
Todoroki Shoto
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-Baby was called from the daycare because the twins teacher couldn’t control their quirk manifesting. 
-Daycares are ready for quirk manifestation but someone hurt Rei and Ren kinda exploded and they couldn’t control the fire. 
-Rei got startled and her ice blocked both toddlers from the outside world as they were now existing in their own little igloo. 
-He panics because he fears that they hurt themselves or each other by using their quirks. 
-Scenarios of them attempting to hug each other, a habit they’ve had since they were wittle babies, and burning their skin or causing frostbite. 
-He rushed to their daycare, paperwork long forgotten on his agency’s desk as he stormed inside the classroom the small ice barrier splitting the room in two making his heart skip a beat. 
-Motioning to the teacher to leave he approached the block of ice, touching it with his left hand watching the ice melt as he finally spotted his two little girls, huddled together in the furthest spot of their igloo, trembling in each other’s arms. 
-Shoto ducked inside, slowly approaching them as they untangled from each other and rushed to him, meeting him half way in a crushing hug. 
-They both sobbed in his chest as he rubbed their backs. 
-Shushing them he tried to get a coherent story out of them but the only answer he managed to pry from them was a jumble of sorries and sobs.
-Picking them up, he asked them where their stuff was and after getting everything he excused all three of them and left the daycare, leaving a now melting igloo for the staff to clean up. 
-Back at home he managed to get them to calm down completely and made them something to eat. 
- “It’s alright, you protected each other like we’ve taught you. Your quirk activating is not your fault so stop blaming yourselves.” 
-They didn’t seem very convinced and they reminded him of himself back in high school, when he wouldn’t accept his left side as part of himself. 
-Hugging them close once again he left a kiss on each of their little heads, blowing a raspberry on their cheeks making them giggle at the feeling. 
-He loves the sound of their laugh. 
- “You have no control over your powers and that’s okay. Me and mommy will help you with that.” 
-Deep down he was proud of his girls. 
-They didn’t lose complete control and Rei managed to minimize her ice from coating the whole classroom. 
-He was so happy to have these two little things as his kids. 
-They truly were his world. 
- “I’m so proud of you my little snowflakes.”
Midoriya Izuku/ Deku
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-He thought his son was quirkless. 
-You were quirkless, he used to be quirkless so the logical thing was for your kid to also be quirkless. 
-Nope you were wrong. 
-Turns out he took after his grandma and he has a form of telekinesis. 
-Nothing really strong since both of his parents are biologically quirkless. 
-It was triggered while you were all chillin in your living room. 
-Izuku was scribbling something in one of his notebooks while your son was playing with his hero figurines on the floor. 
-You were watching kitchen wars. 
-Izuku’s phone started ringing and he shot up to get it, sending the notebook and pen flying across the room. 
-You were ready for the inevitable crash but it never came. 
-Looking up you saw both the notebook and the pen, levitating a few inches from the floor a slight green glow surrounding them.
-You were shocked looking back and forth from your four year old to the levitating objects. 
-Izuku was still talking on the phone and hadn’t realized the revelation that was being displayed in the living room. 
-Finally the call was over and he stepped back in, letting out a fucking SQUEAK when he saw his son using his quirk. 
-That was enough to break his concentration and the items clattered to the floor, your toddler looking back at his father with huge green eyes, chubby hands reaching out for him. 
-In a flash Izuku was on his knees next to the little boy, hugging him so close you thought he couldn’t breath. 
-He peppered his chubby face with kisses, praise pouring from his lips like rain as he raised the four year old into the air, baby giggles filling the room. 
-You joined them on the floor taking your fill of baby Midoriya pampering before looking at your husband, tears flowing down his cheeks. 
-You hadn’t seen him cry ever since your son said his first words. 
-And even then you couldn’t blame him, his first word was dada who wouldn’t cry? 
- “He has a quirk! Oh my god he has a quirk!” 
-Izuku brought both of you into a hug, crushing you to his chest as he kissed both of your foreheads. 
- “Thank you thank you thank you.” 
-It hit him like a truck how lucky he was to have you both. 
-A beautiful wife who loves him for who he is and not for his fame *like many other pros had warned him about* and a son who adores him and asks for daddy every second of the day. 
-He didn’t care about a quirk.
-He was scared that his son would also get bullied if he didn’t have one. 
-Right now everything was perfect. 
Bakugou Katsuki
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-If you asked him he didn’t want your son to get his quirk yet. 
-If he did that meant that he grew and he wasn’t his wittle baby anymore. 
-Your son was playing with his uncles outside while Katsuki was setting up the barbeque. 
-He was simultaneously holding your one year old and you were having a heart attack seeing your baby so close to a fire but you trusted him. 
-Your son was laughing his ass off as he was chased around the table by four grown ass adults. 
- “Be careful around the table.” 
-The fact that all five individuals said yes mom terrified you. 
-Heading back into the kitchen you only managed to reach the sink before a scream pierced the air and in a flash you were back outside, scanning the yard for who got hurt and where. 
-Then your eyes landed on your son who had a hand outstretched in front of him, smoke leaving his small palm while Kaminari was laying face down a few feet away from him, a groan leaving the pro hero as a palm shaped hole was etched on his shirt. 
-Everyone was silent as they stared at your four year old, eyes wide in awe at the sheer force of a singular explosion. 
-The person who broke the silence was Kirishima who let out a loud woah snapping all of you out of your stupor .
-Bakugou looked at you, pure disbelief in his gaze as his son turned to him. 
- “Dad I’m just like you!!” 
-You swear in his daze he almost yeeted your baby over his shoulder. 
-In one swift motion your son was in his other arm being swung around as their laughs synced into one. 
- “Hell yeah you are.” 
-Joining them you ruffled your son’s hair as you kissed his cheeks, a deep scarlet blush painting his plush cheeks as he hid his face in his dad’s shoulder. 
- “Bravo bud!” 
-Sero was next with the praise followed by Mina and Kaminari who also whined about his Hawaiian shirt being ruined. 
-For the next hours Katsuki didn’t let him go. 
-Didn’t want to let either of his kids go but it got kinda hard with the whole barbeque being his responsibility. 
- “We can train together, and work at the agency and go on patrols and…” 
-As your son rambled on about the things they could do now that he has his quirk, you looked at your husband, a soft smile plastered on his features. 
- “He will never stop needing you Katsu.” 
-You whispered as you kissed him softly on the cheek, catching a glimpse of a single teardrop leaving his eye before he quickly rubbed his face on your shoulder. 
- “I know.”
TAG TEAM AY:
@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22​ @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @luluwiie​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses
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tuiccim · 4 years ago
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Terrigenisis (Part 20)
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Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?
Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)
Dividers by @firefly-graphics​
Terrigenisis Series Masterlist
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The following afternoon, the entire team is back at the compound and doing a team training session. You, Steve, and Bucky use the opportunity to announce your engagement. Your teammates are excited and hugs and well wishes surround you. 
“Can I be the flower girl?” Wanda jokes as she hugs you. 
“Dizzy’s already claimed that honor,” you laugh.
“Alright, alright! Let’s get to work. We need to be in perfect sync for the mission.” Steve redirects everyone’s attention. 
“You got it, Cap!” you salute him as you get into position. Two hours later, you break from the drills and begin to disburse when you pull up your phone. “What the hell?” you say as you see your social media had blown up with comments and messages. You pull up your feed and begin reading. You can feel the color drain from your face. 
“Doll, are you okay?” Bucky is the first to notice you frozen in shock. 
“I… the… I don’t understand.” You feel like throwing up reading the words whore, slut, and many other disgusting slurs left on your account. Bucky pulls your phone from your hand and looks at it. 
“What the fuck?” He yells.
Steve speeds over and looks at the phone that Bucky holds out to him. 
“I don’t understand,” you say again, trembling. Bucky puts his arms around you. 
“Uhhh, guys,” Tony says as he pulls up a video.
The spokesman for one of the biggest celebrity tabloids flashes a picture of Steve and Bucky on the screen and says, “Speculation has always run wild on the love life of Captain America, Steve Rogers, and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, but they’ve always kept it hush-hush. Now, a source close to the Avengers has come forward to give us the down and dirty details. Allegedly, our shield throwing hero doesn’t have just a girlfriend, but a boyfriend as well. Way to play both sides, Captain. We’ve been told that Captain America is dating none other than his two teammates, The Winter Soldier and Artemis, the newest member of the Avengers.”
“Artemis! The fuck?” you exclaim as a picture of the three of you is displayed on the screen. 
“Seen here at one of Tony Stark’s exclusive parties, the three have allegedly been dating for several months. But, according to our source, two men aren’t enough for the voracious Artemis, she’s also in a relationship with none other than the villainous Loki of Asgard,” the spokesman continues. Another picture from the party flashes up of you and Loki laughing together. Your stomach is rolling as this apparently isn’t the end of the slanderous story, “Artemis, an Inhuman with the skills of a linguist and animal trainer, joined the team a year ago and has apparently had her hooks in every man she’s come across since then. Our source claims she had affairs with Tony Stark, Clint Barton, and Sam Wilson before settling on the three she dates now. There is also some speculation surrounding the death of her first husband. Is she the real black widow of the Avengers?”
The video ends and you clutch your stomach, “I’m gonna be sick.” Running to the bathroom, you barely make it to the toilet before you lose your lunch. Bucky and Steve are right behind you. 
“Doll, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Bucky soothes as he rubs your back. 
You sit back against the wall and begin to sob. Steve pulls you into his lap and Bucky’s arms surround you both. 
“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll fix this.” Steve says as he rubs your back. 
“We’ll get through it, doll. Whatever we have to do. We won’t let this stand.” Bucky reassures you. 
When the sobs begin to subside, you look at the two of them and nod. They help you stand and you wash out your mouth. When you return, the team is still standing around together. 
“Okay, kids. Artie is on his way and formulating a plan as we speak to work this out. We’ll demand a retraction of the slander. The PR team is going through your social media and deleting and blocking any negative comments. There are several groups who are rallying behind you all and your relationship. We’ve got your back, kid.” Tony puts a hand on your shoulder and you nod weakly. 
Wanda hugs you and you nearly break down again. Natasha looks as if she’s plotting murder with Clint. You notice Sam is missing. 
“Let’s go to our room and rest until Artie gets here. It’ll probably be a long meeting.” Bucky suggests. 
“Yeah, okay,” you follow his lead out. Shortly after the three of you get to your room there’s a knock on the door. Steve opens it and lets Sam into the room. 
“I, uh… I’m so sorry.” Sam stutters uncharacteristically and can’t quite meet your eyes. 
“Kaziah,” you state.
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure. I’m so sorry. I swear I never said anything like that to her. I would never disrespect you like that.” Sam explains. 
“It’s not your fault, Sam,” you reassure him. 
“But I did tell her about you guys. And how you lost Charlie and became an Inhuman. I’m so sorry.” 
“You trusted her. I’m so sorry she betrayed you like that,” you hug Sam’s neck. “I know you must be so hurt that she did that. Maybe she was jealous about our torrid love affair.”
Sam breaks a smile, “I do have a way with the ladies.” 
“Your spirit is unbreakable. Already cracking jokes,” Steve puts his arms around you. 
“I think it’s laugh or cry at this point. I’d rather laugh. I’m sure there will be more tears later,” you say. “I need a shower.”
“That’s my cue to leave.” Sam quips. 
“Sam,” you call. 
“Can you tell Tony, please? He can probably find out for sure.” 
“Yeah. Of course.” Sam exits. 
“Alright, doll. Let’s get that shower.” Bucky pulls you into the bathroom. You stand under the spray minutes later with Bucky and Steve on each side of you. You wash each other gently, sharing soft touches and loving caresses. No matter what anyone ever says about your relationship and your love, you will never give up these two men. The loves of your life. 
Your stomach twists for a moment. Loving Steve and Bucky does not negate your love of Charlie. The accusation of killing him was what hurt more than anything else. If it hadn’t been for Terrigenisis you would still most likely be happily married to Charlie. It reaffirms to you that perhaps there really is a reason that everything happens. Which means there is a reason for this happening. You just couldn’t figure out what it was quite yet. 
“Team meeting in the conference room, immediately.” Friday chimes into your thoughts. 
Ten minutes later, the team is sitting around the conference table facing Artemus "Artie" Pithins, Director of Public Relations, and Tony. 
“We apparently have another Artemis now.” Artie chuckles as he greets you. 
“Wasn’t my decision but if it means I am as formidable as you I’m honored,” you smile as you shake Artie’s hand. 
“Charming under pressure. I love it. We’ll get through this.” Artie reassures you. When everyone is seated Artie addresses the team, “I’d like to begin by telling you all, we have confirmed the source of the leak and that person is being dealt with accordingly. Next, I give this story no credence, but I do need to go through it piece by piece to confirm what is truth and what is lies.”
“We understand.” Steve affirms.
“Are you in a polyamorous relationship as described?” Artie addresses Steve. 
“Yes,” Steve replies. 
“I see. Sgt. Barnes and our newly dubbed Artemis are your boyfriend and girlfriend?” Artie asks. 
“No, they’re my fiancees.” Steve counters. 
“Oh, Congratulations.” Artie’s wheels are turning as he continues down his list of questions. He turns to you next, “Are you in any type of relationship with Prince Loki Odinson?”
“He’s a close friend and my training partner,” you say calmly. 
“But no romantic relationship now or previously?” Artie confirms.
“No,” you reply. 
“Mr. Stark, are you now or have you ever been in a sexual relationship-”
“No, never.” Tony interrupts rolling his eyes. 
“Mr. Bar-”
“No,” Clint says curtly.
“Also, no.” Sam pipes in before the question can be asked. 
“And the last claim I won’t even dignify. That will be retracted with an apology if I have anything to say about it. I know this is not the most couth question but I need to ask. Have any of the three of you had a sexual relationship with another teammate?” Artie states.
“No,” the three of you say practically in unison. 
“Well, then I think we have the perfect solution already in the works. We’ll need the two of you to do a couple of interviews to dispel the rumors and we’ll use that time to also announce the wedding of Captain America and Artemis.” Artie smiles at you. 
“You mean the three of us, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, and Artemis,” you say. 
“The polyamorous relationship is not going to play well, but if we can shift the story from that relationship to the romance that grew out of you joining the team and throw a spectacular wedding, we’ll have nothing to worry about it,” Artie explains.
“No,” you say, looking between Steve and Bucky. 
“Let’s reconvene in two hours. Take the time to discuss it. You have a lot to consider.” Artie closes the meeting. 
Back in your room, you sit on the couch with your head in your hands. 
“Doll?” Steve sits beside you and puts a hand on your back. 
You look up at him, “Do you want to go through with this charade? Leave Bucky out of the ceremony? Everything this entails?”
“I’m pretty sure I’d be best man in Stevie’s wedding no matter what,” Bucky tries to lighten the mood. 
“You should be a groom in it, baby,” you counter.
“I know, I know, doll,” Bucky sits on the other side of you, “But it’d just be a show for the public. We can have a ceremony with just our friends after. Or before. However you want.”
“Is that what you think, Stevie?” you ask.
“Here’s what I’m thinking…”
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Part 21
Tuiccim’s Masterlist
Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series are made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​​ and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
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blu-joons · 4 years ago
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You Appear On Weekly Idol Together ~ Jeon Jungkook
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It had been years since Jungkook had last walked onto the set of Weekly Idol, but very little had changed. The only exception was the two men who were waiting to greet you on the set, offering their hands for you to shake.
“We’ll take good care of you today,” Kwanghee smiled, nudging your shoulder gently. “We know how excited your fans are to see you both with us, so we’ll deliver the best possible show for them.”
The two of you smiled appreciatively before being ushered off of the set so that filming could begin. A camera was placed on the two of you immediately as Heechul and Eunhyuk waited for the director to count them down before beginning the opening segment of the show.
You watched on as the two of them referred to Dynamite to introduce you both. “They’re bound to cause an explosion in your hearts,” Eunhyuk chuckled, glancing across at you. “Jungkook and Y/N, come on out and see us!”
Jungkook took a hold of your hand, pulling you onto the set, racing to stand on the right-hand side of the duo. As hard as he tried to hide it, you could see just how excited he was to finally return to one of his favourite shows that he’d done in Korea.
“Your fans are very excited for the two of you to be here,” Kwanghee began, glancing at the camera.
Eunhyuk did the same as your profiles came up. “It says, you’ve recently celebrated three years together.”
Your head nodded, feeling Jungkook’s hand squeeze against yours. “We have, it was a lovely time to celebrate together.”
Once the two of you had gone through your profiles, you started off with your first segment, ‘I caught you.’ Eunhyuk handed the two of you cards that the boys had come up with, and it was up to you both to decide who they would have chosen.
“I imagine that Jungkook is their favourite,” Kwanghee suggested, but both of your heads shook. “Do the boys prefer Y/N to you Jungkook?”
“The boys are honestly obsessed with her, she’s definitely preferred over me, it’s a losing battle to even try and get their attention over her.”
The round began as you watched Namjoon appear on the screen, reading out the question. “Who did I catch in response to the question, which one of the two would you prefer to be with in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?”
“Would you say that you’re both handy in a zombie apocalypse or is one of you better help than the other?” Eunhyuk questioned, glancing over at the script to make sure he was on the ball.
“I think the answer is obvious, they’ll always end up picking Y/N over me,” Jungkook groaned.
After talking through the answer for a few more minutes, it came as little surprise to either of you when Namjoon confirmed that he’d pick you over Jungkook as you were much more logical and thoughtful in troubling situations.
Kwanghee and Eunhyuk couldn’t help but mock Jungkook as he folded his arms across his chest. Whilst your ego continued to be boosted by the next couple of questions as the boys again picked you, they ended up moving onto the next segment before Jungkook ended up having a breakdown.
“Let’s move onto the Random Play Dance,” Eunhyuk announced, twirling his whistle around in his hand. The four of you pushed your white blocks to the back of the set.
It was a segment you’d seen many times before, often howling with laughter at how terribly so many artists did at remembering their own songs.
“To make Jungkook feel better, we’re going to use BTS songs today,” Eunhyuk chuckled, “Y/N, how are you with BTS choreographies?”
“I’ve had to watch him before onstage enough times,” you laughed, “so I reckon I’ll be alright.”
“Just try not to show him up too much,” Kwanghee pointed out to you, “he’s already had his heart hurt a lot on the programme today.”
Your head nodded, jabbing Jungkook’s hip. “He can take it, he’s a strong enough man.”
You listened closely as Dynamite was the first song that played, instantly appearing by his side in time for the chorus, which you absolutely nailed. Butterfly followed up, as you flew around with your arms out somehow managing to get the pass from Eunhyuk.
“They’re doing well,” Eunhyuk called out, naturally keeping a very close eye on you both as a main dancer himself.
“Y/N almost looks as if she could be a part of BTS,” Kwanghee added, another comment that quickly caught Jungkook’s attention. As much as he loved the fact you knew his routines, there was no way he was going to let you show him up.
The chorus of Boy with Luv soon followed, as you felt Jungkook nudge your side, so he was centre stage, ignoring your groans at how stubborn he was to get things right. You let him take on the song, but as soon as DNA followed up, you were back beside him, putting every ounce of energy you had into capturing the audience’s attention.
“The two of them really are competitive,” Eunhyuk chuckled as he pushed you again when 21st Century Girl played.
He couldn’t quite believe that you were dancing the routine, having released the song long before the two of you started dating. He’d almost forgotten to dance himself in disbelief that you knew it.
The final song, On, played out, and the two of you somehow managed to finish the challenge in perfect sync with each other, without shoving the other out of the way to try and take the main camera.
“Pass!” Eunhyuk yelled as soon as the song came to an end, “we’ve never had quite an eventful Random Play Dance before, you too were pretty determined.”
“There was no way I was going to let her win,” Jungkook smirked, “even if we are supposed to do these things as a team. They’re my songs, so I had to be the one to smash it.”
Kwanghee chuckled beside you, resting his hand against your shoulder, “is he always this competitive? How do you manage to deal with this every day?”
“You’ve just got to let him think that he was better, even though I smashed those dances better than he did,” you continued to tease.
“Have you ever thought of adding an eighth member?” Eunhyuk pushed at Jungkook, noticing the jealous expression on his face. “Or maybe you could let her join Super Junior?”
Straight away, Jungkook’s head shook. He was happy to be the target of the jokes for the day, but there was no way he was going to accept that you were better.
“She did alright,” he chuckled, trying to bring the conversation back on track. “But she’s no match for BTS, she wouldn’t be able to keep up for long.”
You turned questionably to look at him, “you’re the one that had to resort to pushing me over just to make yourself look good, remember?”
The two hosts chuckled, “maybe we should wrap things up before we see our first breakup on the show.”
“Let’s say thank you to Y/N and Jungkook for joining us today,” Eunhyuk smiled, “do you want to say a few words to your fans.”
Your head nodded, looking directly towards your camera. “Thank you for supporting us today, and we promise that Random Play Dance won’t cause us to breakup.”
“But if she continues to show me up when dancing BTS routines, we just might,” Jungkook teased. “Army, I hope you enjoy watching the episode as much as we enjoyed making it, hopefully Weekly Idol will have us back soon.”
The director yelled for the cameras to stop rolling as you waved, letting go of a huge sigh of relief as finally you were done.
“The two of you were so much fun,” Eunhyuk smiled once the cameras had stopped, “this might just be one of my favourite episodes.”
Kwanghee nodded beside him, “you make a beautiful couple together, it’s lovely to see how well the two of you get along.”
“I hate her really,” Jungkook teased, “it’s all a lie for the show.”
“He wishes that he could hate me.”
---
Masterlist
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ketamineharry · 4 years ago
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I Bet - Ethan Payne
Requested: Yes ~ by @wroetobehzinga​ hi best bitch pls can I request a Behz imagine based on I Bet by Ciara✨✨ Luv ya x
Authors Note: This could potentially have multiparts please let me know if you lot would be interested in that. As always, thank you for reading love you all xx
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You sat in your car, the windows shut as you scrolled through Instagram. You were waiting for Ethan so that you could go on a night out. It was a tradition for you to party together, get blackout drunk and then wind up in his bed in the morning; bed sheets tangled between both of your bodies. But, you craved so much more than just being drunk and ending up in his bed. You wanted to wake up in his bed every morning and watch the sunlight hit his face, hear his groggy morning voice wishing you a good morning. Have a round two, completely sober, having something to remember; something to confirm that it was good. That the feelings you had, were reciprocated and felt equally by the man you adored.
As Ethan approached the car, wearing his signature black tee, jeans and trainers. You were adamant that tonight was the night you were going to tell him how you felt. Especially because things would be aided by alcohol. A little bit of dutch courage should make the awkward tension, slightly better. The drive to the club was filled with a comfortable silence, as he placed a hand on your bare thigh, his hand pushing up your short dress ever so slightly. A half-smile plastered on his face, as he gave you a knowing look.
He took your hand, and led you through the club to the bar. You ordered a drink and took a few sips, before turning to Ethan. He stood there, beer in his ring adorned hand. You swore in that moment, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. A deep sigh escaped your lips, if you didn’t say something now, you never would. It was literally, now or never. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Instinctively, his hand snaked around your waist, providing you with a comfort you didn’t know you needed.
“I love you.” You told him, loud enough just for him to hear, as the music thumped around you.
He pulled away from you, a surprised look on his face. You weren’t sure if this was good or bad. He took your hand, leading you outside into the cold night. Presumably so that you could talk properly.
“Babe, did I just hear that right?” He asked, as he raised an eyebrow at you. You swallowed hard, before nodding your head. You had been in love with him for the longest time, but had bitten your tongue, as you longed for the right time to tell him, that never seemed to come.
“I think we need to go back to my flat right now.” He mumbled, suggestively. He practically dragged you back to the car, he opened the drivers door and practically shoved you in. He went around to the other side and got himself belted in quickly. As you started the engine, you looked over at him hardly believing that you were about to go back to his flat practically sober.
Once you had arrived at his apartment building, he once again got out of the car first and helped you out of the vehicle. He grabbed a hold of your hand and practically dragged you to his apartment. As soon as you were outside, his lips were on yours, as he pinned you against the front door. His hands wrapped around your waist, as you found your hands in his hair, the curls soft against your hands. As you slightly tugged on them, he groaned into your mouth; which just increased your need for him.
“Let’s go inside.” He suggested, against your lips.
He fumbled for his keys in his pocket, as he quickly opened the door. His arms returned to your waist, as he hoisted you around his waist and walked you into his bedroom. He threw you onto his bed, your head hit the mattress as your hair fanned out around you. Ethan was in the corner of the room, undressing himself. As he put on a bit of a show for you, slowly exposing his toned chest and muscular arms as he took his top off. Once he had taken his jeans off, he made his way to the bed, in just his boxers and climbed on top of you.
He pinned your wrists to the mattress, as he kissed his way down your body. Starting at your forehead, kissing all the way down your face to your mouth, as he placed a soft kiss there. Which was different. You had kissed him before, but never like this, never this intimate. He moved from your mouth, down to your neck, leaving small hickies all over, marking you as his. A soft moan escaped your lips, as he found the sweet spot on your neck, as he did, his hands trailed down, to cup your boob in his hand.
-
You were left short for breath once he had finished, no matter how many times you had sex with him. You were always surprised at how good it was, how in sync your bodies were. How natural it felt. It was perfect.
Ethan held you close to him, you rested your head on his chest, as you traced patterns into his hot, bare skin as you both came down from your climaxes. A comfortable silence enveloped the both of you.
“That was so good.” He hummed into your hair, as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“It was and look at us, we weren’t even drunk. This is progress.” You said, as you let out a content sigh.
“Yeah… Y/N this was a one off. I just wanted to see if I felt the same, and I don’t.” He informed you, as he rolled over. “Good night.” He whispered, as he tried to get to sleep.
You were left with your thoughts, you and Ethan had just ‘made love’, which was amazing for you, and supposedly for him too. But, the ‘love’ aspect wasn’t there for him, but it was painfully obvious that it was there for you. Not only that, but he had the audacity to tell you so matter of factly, so quickly after the fact that he didn’t feel the same. You followed suit, as you turned onto your side, blocked him out and silently cried yourself to sleep.
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dragonsareourfuture · 4 years ago
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Death Note/GN!Reader — Pick Up Lines
A quick little scenario in which your Death Note sweetheart uses a terrible pick up line on you! I feel as though these all kinda suck since I write this a while ago but it’s fine. It’s fine.
Mello
Staying up late every night and watching security footage was not fairing well for Mello. Dark circles started to form underneath his eyes, and you pointed out that he was turning into L, all he needed was black hair and a haircut. He simply responded “The day I cut my hair short is the day the world ends.”
Usually when Mello got tired he would turn into a grumpy, adorable gremlin but, mixed with the excessive amount of chocolate he consumed due to boredom, he had turned loopy. Matt had relied on his headphones to keep him sane, whereas you were left with no escape from the babbling blond.
Mello rambled on and on about how he was going to beat Near with every fiber of his being, slowly getting sidetracked into a conversation about sheep.
“They’re so fucking fluffy. Standing around, eating grass, taunting me.” The blond mumbled, his head resting on your lap as you stroked his hair, listening with genuine interest.
“Mhmm, how do they taunt you?” you inquired, wanting to know more before your boyfriend fell asleep and you never got to find out why he felt so threatened by white, fluffy animals.
“They just...do  .”
“Well, I’ll always keep you safe from the mean, mean sheep.”
Mello shifted so that he was gazing up at you. He lifted his hand to your face and gently smacked your cheek with his palm, rubbing his tired eyes with the other hand.
“Aw, babe you’re so sweet when you talk like that... You make me melt like chocolate in the summer~ ”
“I do what?”
Before Mello could answer, unconsciousness grasped him and pulled him down into the dimension of sleep. You sighed, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to hear more, yet also relieved that Mello could finally get the sleep that he needed.
“G’night, Mels,” You whispered, brushing his bangs to the side and kissing his forehead, “You make me melt, too.”
Matt
Matt’s been acting strangely clingy all day. As soon as you noticed this fact, you immediately figured that it was an anniversary or either one of your birthdays and it had slipped your mind. However, upon further inspection of your phone calendar, today appeared to be nothing special.
You were seated on the couch, watching a bit of television while Matt washed the dishes. You had insisted that you could handle that task yourself, but the goggle-wearing sweetheart had insisted that you relax.
Suddenly you heard the sink turn off and footsteps lead up to the couch. You turned around to see the redhead wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.
“Hey, I lost my phone number...can I have yours? ” He asked with a sly smile.
“Matt, you have my number. Is that a pickup line? You know we’re already dating, right? Is my number not working?” You interrogated, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and calling your cell from it to ensure that your phone number still worked.
“No- it’s... you’re supposed to go along with it!”
“Well, come up with a better one next time, dumb ass,” You tossed Matt’s phone back at him, the device landing in his lap. He pouted and shoved it into his jacket pocket, getting up to return to the kitchen.
“You’re no fun.”
L
The room grew dim and increasingly empty as the hours ran further into the day, eventually turning to night. Despite the signs that you should be on your way home, you stayed with the only detective who thought it appropriate to work into the ungodly hours of the night.
You glanced over at L, back turned to you with his nose practically pressed against the computer screen. You rolled your eyes and switched on the main light of the room, saying, “You’re gonna ruin your eyes reading in the dark like that.”
L did not respond but, at the looks of it, kept on reading the minuscule words on his screen with intent.
“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe some cake?” You asked, giggling at the end of your words for no other reason than the tiredness getting to your brain.
“No, thank you.  I already have you, and you’re sweeter than cake, anyway,” L droned matter of factly, not even tearing his eyes away from the luminescent screen.
“Awww! Oh my god, L!” You squealed, running up to L and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.
“Ah...(name), I c-can’t breathe...”
Near
You could practically hear the blood flow to your brain as you spun around in a desk chair at painful hours of the night. The screens that filled the SPK headquarters shone in your eyes, keeping you awake along with the unhealthy amounts of caffeine you had consumed.
Your white haired boyfriend sat crouched on the floor by your feet. The clicking of building blocks rang throughout the otherwise empty room as he stacked them on top of one another, paying no mind to anything else.
You sighed, placing your chin on the palm of your hand and deflating on the spot. No amount of caffeine could keep you here as late as Near always stayed, no matter how much you wanted it to. You hated that he was here alone all the time and, even though he always tried to convince you that he didn’t care, you knew it took a toll on his mental state.
You shifted in your chair, about to heave your body up when Near’s monotonous voice kept you still.
“(Name).”
You waited for him to continue, and spoke up when he stayed silent, “What’s up, babe?”
“Do you like LEGO ?” Near inquired. His eyes finally met yours as he twirled a LEGO piece in between his fingers.
“Uh, I guess—“
“Because I want to build a world with you... ”
You froze, wondering if the caffeine was getting to your head or if Near had actually used a pickup line on you — and a goddamn adorable one at that.
A weak smile tugged at your lips. You slid off the office chair and dropped to your knees on the cold tile beside Near, throwing your arms around the boy without another word.
Though he stiffened at first, Near melted under your embrace. He buried his face into your shoulder and wrapped his noodle arms around your torso. You stayed like this for either a minute, or an hour. It was so quiet that you could hear your hearts beating in sync. Everything was so perfect, so loving, so-
“ARE YOU GUYS STILL HERE!?”
Your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sound of a door banging against metal and the rough tone of Rester calling out to you.
Near grumbled and shoved his face into your neck, trying and failing to escape the booming echo of footsteps that approached your little heap on the floor.
“Yeah,” your voice came out ragged and small, but enough for Rester to hear and follow, “right here.”
“You both look exhausted! Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”
When Near barely moved a muscle, you took it upon yourself to pick up his limp body from the floor bridal style and carry him to bed. Though you almost dropped the poor boy more than once, you’d say you did a fairly good job. And, once you were both snuggled up in bed, you got a good nights rest of a solid three hours of sleep. It was the most Near’s gotten in weeks, so you were not complaining.
Light
Though you were already in a relationship with Light, the cheesy lines and swooning from him never ceased. You wouldn’t have to fend him off with a stick but he loved to be all over you even when he already won you over, and you loved that about him.
This was mainly exhibited when you two were alone together, him finding public displays of affection to be childish and overall unnecessary as everyone you hung around with at school respected your relationship quite nicely.
The two of you were strolling on the sidewalk after a headache inducing day of school. His arm was resting lazily over your neck as you walked while all attention was focused on you and you alone. You ranted about the difficulties of the day and, although they were mostly all minor inconveniences, they really got under your skin once all added up.
When you had finished, you huffed and rubbed at your temple.
Breaking the silence that followed, Light blurted,  “How would you like to be the goddess of the new world?  You wouldn’t have to deal with that crap anymore.”
You laughed, reaching up to lace your fingers with the hand that dangled by your shoulder. “Dude, I barely know what taxes are. I don’t think I can handle being a goddess.”
“Aw, that’s a shame,” Light pouted jokingly.
The two of you came to a stop in front of his house, him pulling you flush against him and just staring wistfully (up/down) at you. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Sayu will be delighted to see you.”
“Oh, I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude—“
“Nonsense. Come on.”
And so, Light guided you into his home, his mother and Sayu cheerfully greeting you at the door and whisking you away into a night of wonderful conversation and a lovely dinner.
Matsuda
You took advantage of the daylight, working nonstop so that you wouldn’t have to stay after hours to get your unfinished work done.
Through your tireless efforts, you failed to notice a pair of familiar eyes glancing back at you every so often. You only noticed a change in your boyfriend’s behavior when he came rolling up to your desk in his wheely chair, resting his chin on his elbows and looking at you expectantly.
“Hey, what’s up, Teddy Bear?” You greeted, barely tearing your eyes from the papers splayed out all across your desk.
Matsuda grinned from ear to ear every time he heard that nickname. It made him feel wanted and loved whenever he was around you. Sometimes, this caused the filter between his brain and his mouth to thin, allowing whatever he’s thinking in that moment to slip out.
“Do you have a map? Because I’m getting lost in your eyes... ” he said dreamily.
Your head shot up in an instant, puzzled by the seemingly random affection, only to see Matsuda covering his lips as a dark blush began to rise on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Th-that’s not...I-“
“Honey...” you shook your head and sighed, placing your pen down flat on the desk, “That is the literal worst line ever but it sounds wonderful coming from you.”
“O-oh. Thanks?” He chuckled nervously, massaging the back of his neck as his skin became slick with sweat.
You leaned over the desk and pecked his lips before collecting your paperwork in a neat stack, placing it all carefully in your shoulder bag, careful not to bend any corners. “Why don’t I finish my work in that nice little coffee shop across the street. Join me?”
“Y-yes! I’d love to. It’s getting a little stuffy in here, anyway.”
Misa
“Ughhhhh I’m so tired! What a day!” Misa exclaimed, stretching out her arms above her head as she walked over to her folding chair. The white, feathery wings fastened to her back smacked people and equipment as she passed them, but you saw her as nothing but elegant.
Your girlfriend plopped her butt down into the fragile chair, giving Matsuda a scare when it nearly toppled over. With beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, he handed the girl her coffee.
“Aw, thanks, Matsu! And you too, (Name)! I wouldn’t be able to do any of my scenes without you guys cheering me on!”
You chuckled, cheeks turning a dusted shade of pink at Misa’s praise. “Dont give us all the credit, babe. You’re the one giving your all up there.”
Misa twisted in her chair to grab at your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. “You’re too sweet, honey! Y’know, if it were up to me, you’d be the one wearing these wings!”
“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t take your place!” You said, gesturing to the fountain where Misa’s scene had just been filmed.
The blonde giggled and brought your fingers to her lips, giving them a couple kisses before shaking her head. “I meant I’d have you in these wings because you’re an absolute Angel , silly!”
Before you could even begin to respond, Matsuda beat you to it. “Aww my gosh, you guys! Could I be the best man at your wedding?”
“Hmm...” you pretended to ponder while tapping your chin with your index finger. “How do you feel about being the flower boy?”
“Done!”
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secondhand-trash · 4 years ago
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Pairing: Yaku Morisuke x reader
Word count: 930 (this started as a shit post but clearly I got carried away)
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Thinking about... kissing. Thinking about Yaku Morisuke and kissing. Or just... thinking about Yaku Morisuke as your highschool sweetheart who was far too sweet for his own good...
You were probably still in high school, your last year, maybe. He’s your first relationship. You’re his first relationship. He used to pretend that he didn’t have the book he needed for the next class as an excuse to drop by your classroom, stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye while his friend rummages through their bag to dig out the book he was supposedly here for. You used to pretend that you left your stuff at the gym from PE, lingering around just a bit too long because you “just can’t find your water bottle” when in reality you were hoping he would somewhat remember you even as the one who always came into the gym during their club practice.
He confessed to you at the back of the school, where no one usually passed by. He had his fists balled up, lips fighting the clench in his jaw as he near spit out the words that had been occupying his mind, an anxiousness much unlike his character. He was blushing ear to ear, your eyes were wide and mouth parted as you stood there in disbelief when suddenly all the things you had wanted to say felt too lame.
There was a roar from above your heads when he mustered the last bit of his sanity and tugged you close to him by your sleeve. He gave a provoked yell at the small crowd that had gathered right by the window of your floor, his voice softening as quick as it raised when he darted down to look at you who was holding onto his arms.
It was embarrassing to say the least, but all you could think of was the way he towered over you with his lean frame to block you from the witnesses’ sight.
He treats you like royalty, his hand tightens and loosens around yours whenever he walks you home like he is testing the waters for the first few weeks you were together. He did not kiss you until your relationship turned to the “month” mark, and till then it was still just a quick peck on the lips before he backed away, his eyes darting between your lips and your glassy eyes.
It usually happened at the fountain, far back at the small park that was just enough of a distance from school for being walked into to not be a worry and not too far that it became a hassle. Because where else were you supposed to go when you had no thought on what to do other than spend time together? It was his sleeves rolled back against his elbow and his bag sat on the floor, his hand just laid on top of yours and drumming a soft pattern on the back of your hand. The marble under your palm was warm under your touch, but still it felt like a stark contrast compared to the heat on your skin. His palms are rougher than yours, and you liked to trace the lines and callouses on his finger when you laid against his shoulder and listened to him talk. It calmed you down, but little did you know that the tickle in his hand only made him swallow the urge to pull you close until there was no more distance between you and him with each gulp.
Sometimes he couldn’t swallow it down, and the quick meeting of your eyes and the smile you flashed him only made him suddenly conscious of the chapping on his lips or the grime on his face and the sweat down his back before you shut all the voices in his head up.
The way both of you squeezed your eyes so tightly as you slowly figured out how to move in sync. He was always worried if he looked like he was an absolute fool with his hand cradling your cheek, the other fighting back the urge to grip your shoulder in all his nervousness. You were always wondering if you were doing it right, if you kissed him back the right way or was it too much or not enough.
But his lips were so soft, you noticed that the first time he didn’t move away immediately upon the initial contact. The lightest curve on his Cupid’s now pressing against yours as he attempted to part his lips, chasing the perfect angle at which the pillar of your lips moulded perfectly together.
And he would reach out to intertwine his fingers with yours, just as you held him back like it was enough to distract you from overthinking.
You would laugh about it later, how he was usually so confident in himself but so hesitant with you, before he chimes back saying he never thought you to be the type of people wondering if they were kissing right. He would argue that he just wants you to think he was cool, before you retaliate and say something rather similar.
Then you would smile, just as he laughs and says that he was too smitten with you to notice if you were uncool, and lean in close to him and assure him that you had always thought he was so so cool since the day you met him.
He is not nervous when you smiled before kissing him anymore, and you know everything is just right when his lips on yours.
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pokedash55 · 3 years ago
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ULTRA LONG TIME TWIN HEADCANNONS
@sippin-on-waterfalls your post is ready
From Pokedash and Purplefern
Ooooooookay here we go.
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-Krux perceives time slower than others so he is easily late to events (plus he gets distracted and way into projects so he can easily lose track of time, ironically) so he could end up missing a lot of Elemental Alliance meetings
-Acronix made sure he informed Krux it was time to go (whenever he remembers, anyway) otherwise he’d be uber late all the time. Good thing they always go together
-Acronix is super early all the time because of his powers and he and Griffon Turner’s grandfather got along really well
-All the same, between lack of attention span, focusing on other things, and not caring for the meetings in general, Krux and Acronix miss a LOT of meetings 
-Before alliance meetings Wu is training little Morro and the Twins and the Master of Speed just waltz in the monastery doors an hour early
-Acronix teaches Morro some sick fighting moves (some rather underhanded)
-Krux advises him to never let people get away with harm cause you are the most important thing in your life. (Revenge!)
-Wu be like plz stop encouraging my kid into violence and dishonorable tactics.
-Krux brought refreshments to an EA party exactly once. It was pickled beet tea and nobody liked it. He took it very personally. 
-Back during the war, the love triangle with Misako was actually a love rectangle. Krux had a crush on her too but he literally had no idea how to act on it so his part of the rectangle was staring at her longingly from afar and not saying anything. 
-Yes Acronix teased him immensely about this. And tried to act as a wingman several times but Krux swore if he did he would murder him 
-Pre-series, Misako would do work for the museum a lot, so she ended up working with Sanders Saunders quite often. Despite her relationship to Wu and Garmadon and their “history”, he did like working with her ok
-They both also worked with the Explorer’s Club a lot, and have equal disdain for Cecil Putnam and Clutch Powers 
-Krux hates Cecil’s stuffy rules (even though he couldn’t show it while being Dr Saunders) and Clutch’s….everything
-Krux’s doctorate is real, and he has a doctorate in History and and Master’s degree in Museum Studies 
-He’s the Curator of History at the museum, and the other curator is the curator of natural sciences 
-Acronix is a big nicknames guy. He doesn’t usually call people by their actual names. Only the people he actually cares about or that he super hates. 
-But he also generally despises nicknames given TO him. The only people allowed to call him Nix/Nixie are  his brother and mother (and later Shannon). 
-Krux only calls Acronix "Nix" if he's feeling particularly vulnerable/scared/etc (so like, when being the older twin isn't feeling that fun and he decides to ignore those 3 minutes and be more like the "younger" twin.) So this becomes a lot less as he becomes more arrogant. 
-(Based on how he describes Dareth getting beat up by the Vermillion warrior) Krux likes watching wrestling. It’s a guilty pleasure of his 
-And of course Acronix loves it once he learns about it, so the two watch it together 
-Krux occasionally plays strategy board games. He tried to get Acronix into them but he found them boring. 
-(Sometimes he’ll suck it up and play with him anyway, though.) 
-Both are sass masters
-Both also like science
-But like completely different facets of science. 
-Krux of course likes the more stable and earthy sciences. Biology and geology, ecology. Those elemental science that have always existed but we just haven’t yet understood them
-Krux is also a total history nerd. Things like paleontology and anthropology are also really interesting to him 
-Yes he was a dinosaur kid. (Especially since dinosaurs had just started to be discovered back in his day.) 
-Acronix of course likes advancement and the otherworldly sciences. Technology, Astronomy. Sure we build upon the discoveries of the past but what about creating something new for the future? 
-Acronix does like bioengeneering since it is a new advancement but he knows saying so would make Krux grin with “I told you bio was cool” vibes
-Krux can engulf himself into his work or his schemes for days. As he is very patient. 
-Acronix is less so. He sees time constantly moving forward so sitting idle to “Plan” seems a ridiculous waste of time. 
-He jumps from activities quickly as the novelty of it wears off and he is always on a quest for what's new and what may work, not really what has been confirmed to work
-Krux of course sees this as a fool's errand. We need to respect the knowledge we have and use it and plan with it. 
-But when they are in sync you should be SCARED
-Both thinking in the Present can make them in perfect harmony, Both in fighting and talking.
-Their different planning methods can help eachother get things done. So yes, when they work together you should be scared 
-Krux can get really fixated on an idea, and get into major creative blocks. Acronix helps propose out of the box solutions that keep his ideas moving forwards that he wouldn’t have thought of himself. 
-But as we see they can also be reeeeallly different and fight over the miniscule things.  
-Krux lingers on Grudges easily as he physically cannot not put value to the events of the past.
-Acronix’s main grudge with the alliance came from his ego and arrogance, not his element. I think he feels very internally about wrongs to him in the moment but if he sees nothing really changed a couple of days later he loses interest in holding such a grudge easily
-Each of them have the ability to not be affected by the other’s powers
-Acronix has no patience to listen to anything he doesn’t want to hear. Back when he had his powers he COULD and WOULD just “skip” peoples’ dialogue if he got bored of it. 
-Krux has a bad habit of “freezing” people if he feels like they’re interrupting him. Like, he will freeze people who are trying to get him to stop working on something while he’s trying to get something done, and then get back to them when he feels like it. Everyone has to work on his time. (Annoyingly, this does not affect his brother, which is why Acronix is the only one who can actually get him to stop working on his projects.) 
-Whenever Krux & Acronix would hang out with Chen, Acronix loved messing with Clouse. Clouse reminds him of his brother, but even more stuffy and annoyed somehow, so he just has an instinctual urge to annoy him as much as possible. 
-(Clouse does not appreciate this, but Master Chen says they’re “important” to his plan so Clouse just suffers quietly.) 
-Acronix likes the Master of Speed, but also finds it annoying that he can resist his slo-mo powers by going really fast. (On the bright side, though, this does make him the closest thing to an equal he’ll get for a sparring partner, if Krux doesn’t want to train with him for whatever reason.) 
-Because of his element, Sound is one of the rare people who doesn’t really mind Krux but REALLY dislikes Acronix. Acronix is just so loud all the time and it physically pains him because he is so sensitive to vibrations and volume. Krux is generally pretty quiet so doesn’t bug him as much. 
-Acronix is an Entrepreneur (ESTP)  and Krux is an Architect (INTJ) 
-They have no Feeling whatsoever
-Otherwise, they are complete opposites
-Both of these personality types hate rules, regulations, and micromanaging restricting authority figures (hmm, wonder why they broke away from the alliance…)
-Acronix is arrogant in the way that he doesn’t care about his flaws, because obviously he is awesome and everyone else is just jelly, Krux is arrogant in the way that he hates people pointing out his flaws, because shut up he doesn’t have any 
-Their mother is Polaris, they take after her physically 
-Father is Kronos, they got their powers and ego from him 
-Their father actively encouraged them to have immense pride in their element -- being the former master of time himself 
-Ordered them the sweet matching armor
-He was a samurai back in his day, which is why the Twims wore samurai helmets.
-Between their two loving parents, the Twims were nearly spoiled 
-Krux and Acronix grew up pretty rich, Kronos was pretty much high society and Polaris was too 
-They went to a fairly fancy private school growing up
-But everyone there were snobs so they didn’t get along well with their classmates (what a surprise)
-Their parents died in a skirmish with Serpentine, leading the Twims to join the alliance full of vengeance. 
-Acronix has a battle scar from being grazed by an anacondrai sword on his left pec cause I said so
-Also a lot of misc snake bit scars and a burn scar from that one time (Ray’s got a bad temper and Acronix likes pressing people’s buttons, so that went super well)
-Acronix super cares about his looks so has a ton of, like, haircare and beauty products. Krux has a single bottle of 3-in-1 and a bar of soap and says that that’s sufficient. 
-Back in the day Acronix had a bunch of oils and whatever for his hair, and when he’s in the present he’s got a bunch of fancy shampoos and such.  He’s definitely the vain one of the two twins
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A collection of Neurodivergent Twims HCs
-Acronix has ADHD and Krux is autisitc
-Acronix is early, but only to things he remembers. He often forgets dates. And Krux will get involved with something else, and has a warped sense of time. Together, the two miss a lot of EM meetings 
-And when they’re at them, neither of them are good at conversations. Acronix talks a mile a minute and doesn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise. Krux either doesn’t talk to anyone or similarly dominates conversation and doesn’t let anyone else talk. 
-The two also get sent on solo missions alot
-They don’t focus well in a group setting (Acronix generally ignoring the plan for what he prioritizes as the better option and krux simply not being popular with the others and only really battling well beside his brother)
-They are generally strong enough to protect a village by themselves
-The other EM work better with them out of the way since they are “annoying” and no one really likes their arrogance, pride, or entire personhood
-They seem to be happier working only together than with the whole group
-Once during a group charge on a collection of Serpentine races Acronix notices a horde heading in a different direction and follows them impulsive
-All of these things together make them especially unpopular with the other EMs
-Especially with the Master of Ice, who considers their actions disrespectful and often scolds them on their behavior 
-Krux and Acronix can BOTH get hyperfixated on things they are interested in, and can also forget to eat and sleep.
-Acronix struggles with insomnia a lot because his brain doesn’t shut up. Luckily his brother never really sleeps either. They spend a lot of long nights talking about nonsense 
-Acronix tries to use time skip powers to not waste time while sleeping. He skips the night, but he still didn’t get sleep. He crashes after a few days of this and Krux tells him that he’s a moron 
-Acronix has a fidget spinner, which he got for the memes but ended up finding unironically helpful, and gives Krux a fidget cube (which Krux reluctantly accepts and actually does use pretty often.) 
-Before learning what a fidget spinner was he would flip his phone a lot. It was both an easily accessible stim and assurance he knew where it was cause he tended to leave things around at random. 
-Krux used nail-biting as a stim, mostly because it can appear pretty neurotypical 
-Acronix is “annoying” around the ninja during his lil redemption arc, but instead of reacting like the elemental masters, the Ninja actually do research and come to an understanding (especially Zane, who is perceptive, understanding, and has an instantaneous link to the internet). 
-Altogether he’s a little surprised when they actually put effort into tolerating and understanding his differences. Huh. How’s bout that? 
-Jay is also pretty understanding, he’s got a lot of nd cousins and has ADHD himself so it’s kinda just *shrugs*
-Modern dyes and preservatives really trigger Acronix’s ADHD to be even worse than usual. 
-Zane picks up on this, and like the mother hen that he is starts to put in a special effort to keep dyes away from Acronix (or to keep Acronix away from dyes, as the case may be)
-Jay has a similar problem with dyes (which Edna let the Ninja know about, thanks a lot ma ) so Zane works double time to keep them both away from dyes
-Makes special dishes that are “ADHD safe” 
-Neither appreciate it (well Jay does but will complain openly at every chance he gets)
-Acronix got into a lot of trouble with their dad when he was a kid, because he just couldn’t pay attention 
-Has bursts of anger a lot, oftentimes this happens during things like parties or pre-meeting conversations. (which easily leads to him getting a label of “aggressive” or “hotheaded” by the EMs) 
-DEFINITELY struggles with Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria
-Ninjago history is Krux’s special interest 
-Krux freezes people around him when he needs a sec to destim
-Krux is pretty high-functioning, but is on the borderline. He's high-functioning enough to be aware of himself and mask, but not enough to avoid things like shut/melt downs 
-Acronix is fiercely protective of his brother whenever he shuts down. Messing with Krux while he's like that (whether the antagonist is aware or not) is a one way ticket to his wrath as well as physical punishment. 
-Whenever things got too intense at a meeting/party type thing, Acronix would ditch and sneak them both out whenever Krux was heading towards a shut down. Being the awesome supportive twin that he is, he learned to pick up on the signs of one and was certain to prevent them pretty much whenever possible. 
-Acronix failed in his efforts only once (he was kind of sick that day and wasn’t at the top of his game to be keeping a watchful eye on his bro), and Krux kind of ended up time freezing a few of the EMs in the process. It was something the elemental masters (or Krux himself)  did not soon forget or forgive. 
-He'll go nonverbal sometimes, to the minor aggravation of the alliance. Sign language isn't a thing yet so anyone trying to understand him when he's like this are pretty much reliant on Acronix and his twin sense to translate. 
-When their parents died Krux went nonverbal for a little over a month. 
-Krux was pretty delayed in learning to speak, he didn’t say his first word until he was 3 ¼ 
-Even during his redemption arc, Acronix does not tell the Ninja about Krux's autism, from a built in fear that the knowledge would be used against him in possible future battles. (Also because he knows Krux wouldn't want them to know.) 
-Krux doesn't just hate phones because “ugh technology”, he also just hates talking on the phone because it’s super difficult
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OK there are way more that we have but... did you know there is actually a word limit on Tumblr? Heh heh... If you want more Twim goodness you can read our extensive fanfic collection... or maybe we’ll make a part two (That’ll probably consist of Home life pre-war stuff, post-canon AU junk, Vermillion family nonsense, and more random stuff)
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qitwrites · 3 years ago
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|| 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 
Momo is 13 when she gets her first period.
Her parents had talked to her about it of course, told her it was completely natural and normal and healthy, and to come to them when it happens.
What nobody was prepared for was the pain.
She’s in the family garden creating some Lego blocks for herself when a bout of cramps, sharp and intense, roils through her abdomen and up her left leg. It’s so sudden she can barely call for help, and by the time the guards reach her, she’s on the ground sobbing, clutching her stomach and shakily taking in gasps of air.
They tell her it’s a combination of her diet and her genes. The high-fat diet has consequences, no matter how much she uses her quirk to balance it out and her father’s side of the family has a history of debilitating period pains. It’s just really bad luck, or so they tell her.
Of course, this doesn’t deter Momo from her plans of becoming a pro-hero. It’s all she wants. So, it’s what she chases and works for and earns.
The period pains get worse.
Class 1A doesn’t notice for the longest time. Momo is good at hiding it, at hiding how often she uses the loo for the first two days, how much pain she’s biting back in class, how badly she’s performing in training. She practices her smile in the mirror, sits through hours of class and training and socializing with a smile plastered on her face, and screams into her pillow at night. She spends those nights on her bathroom floor, alternating between throwing up and enjoying the cool feeling of the tiles underneath her.
Nobody realizes until Momo doesn’t show up for class one day.
Of course, everyone is immediately concerned- Momo isn’t one to skip. She takes the best notes, has perfect attendance, submits her assignments on time, the works. First period passes like that, and Aizawa even brings it up but nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t messaged a soul or called anyone about anything.
They’re on break after second period when Todoroki finds her on the staircase landing between the first and second floor.
Momo is on the ground, laying on her side. Her hand is in her mouth, blood dripping down her skin as she clenches it tightly between her teeth. Her other hand is wrapped around her abdomen, squeezing tightly. Tears stream down her face continuously, like an endless river. She’s muffling her screams, and it’s almost like she can’t even see Todoroki, her gaze piercing straight through him.
Todoroki is immediately alarmed, getting to his knees in front of her. He looks over her and can’t see any physical injuries, any signs of trauma.
‘Yaoyorozu,’ he says urgently, ‘what’s going on?’
Momo blinks at him, some of the tears dispelling. She finally sees him, recognizes him, and gasps. She pulls her hand away and the tears spill again.
‘I can’t-‘ she starts and sucks in a sharp breath ‘-I can’t breathe. I can’t- there’s too much pain fuck.’ Todoroki raises his brows- Momo never curses. Never. Not even when she stubbed her toe against the dining table and broke it.
‘We have to get you to recovery girl,’ Todoroki says, moving to help her up.
‘Wait,’ she groans. ‘I need- dammit, Todoroki let me borrow your left hand for a moment please.’
Todoroki complies without question, and watches as she takes it and places it on her abdomen above her uniform.
‘As hot as you can go,’ she says, ‘without burning my uniform. Please.’
Todoroki has no idea what’s going on, but he does as she asks. The effect is almost immediate- her breathing evens out, her eyes focus again, her body stops jerking in pain. It’s almost like she’s been sedated.
After nearly 2 minutes of sitting in silence, she gently takes Todoroki’s hand and places it on his own knee. She sits up gingerly and wipes away her tears, smearing some of the blood on her cheeks instead. Todoroki watches her carefully, ready to step in if she asks for help.
‘What happened?’
Momo looks at him with sad eyes. ‘It’s just my period cramps Todoroki. I’m ok, I’ll be alright.’
Todoroki quirks a brow. ‘You’re not ok Yaoyorozu, even I can tell just by looking at you.’
Momo is about to voice another protest when the door to the stairwell bursts open. Bakugou and Kirishima walk through with vending machine drinks in their hands and stop when they spot the pair on the floor.
‘Yaomomo?’ Kirishima shouts, running towards them. Bakugou trails just behind, eyebrows furrowed.
Momo plasters a smile on her face, trying to hide her bloodied hand.
‘What happened?’ Kirishima yells, crouching down with a concerned look in his eyes.
‘I-‘
‘She said it’s period cramps,’ Todoroki interrupts. In all honesty, he never grew up around his mother or his sister, so he has limited knowledge of periods in general. But with that limited knowledge also came the lack of a stigma towards periods in general. He doesn’t think anything of talking about it.
Kirishima’s concerned look melts into one of sad understanding.
‘Oh man,’ he says, ‘that sucks Yaomomo. They’re that bad, huh?’
Momo keeps her smile in place. ‘Really, I’m fine, it’s nothing I cannot handle, I’m ok-‘
A hand, absurdly gentle, pulls her bloodied one away from where she’s hiding it. Momo startles when she sees Bakugou holding her hand, giving her a tight look. He drops it gently and sighs. With a grunt, Bakugou sits down next to her, back leaning into the wall. Kirishima sits cross legged in front of her while Todoroki sits on her other side.
‘My old hag,’ Bakugou grumbles, ‘has period pains. More like period torture, I guess. She threw up every month on the first day. She’d have dark circles from the lack of sleep, and she’d slap hot water bags to her stomach 24/7. She even burned the skin there a few times. Painkillers didn’t do shit, there were no surgical options, not even birth control made much of a dent. She’d just grit her teeth and bare it every month.’
Momo listens silently, her hands slowly unclenching.
‘My moms,’ Kirishima pitches in, ‘are pretty chill with it. Well, Mama’s get really bad sometimes, but mom is usually ok. I’ve seen them bring each other ice-cream or squeeze each other’s shoulders. They sync up a lot too! Mama would always tell me to be nicer to mom, and mom would always tell me to give mama a kiss. They’re both so manly when they battle their periods every month.’ He offers Momo a gentle smile.
Todoroki hums. ‘I admit, I don’t know much beyond the biological part of it. But from what I can see, Yaoyorozu, this isn’t very normal, is it? This level of pain?’
Momo sighs, brushing away the fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
‘I, between my quirk and my genes, I have received the shorter end of the stick. Of course, I have looked into treatments. There’s nothing I can fix with surgery, and painkillers are usually ineffective. I have tried birth control measures, but they interfere with my quirk.’
Momo looks up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think we talk about this enough, about heroes that menstruate. I can’t stop being a hero on the days I have my period, but sometimes, I’m in so much pain I can’t see straight. I-‘ she sucks in a stuttering breath ‘-I don’t know what to do sometimes. I want to stand on equal footing with my peers.’
Bakugou scoffs. ‘You shitting me? You’re top of the class, your quirk can make fucking canons, you tutored our fuckwit classmates into not failing miserably, and you did it all through this shit? What part of that is not equal with your peers?’
Kirishima nods in agreement. ‘I mean, Mina has some cramps too, so I usually bring her hot water bags when she asks. I read somewhere that spinach is great for period health, so I make us both protein shakes with spinach and banana! She says it helps.’
‘The iron in spinach must be beneficial,’ Momo muses, her face breaking into the first genuine smile of the day. ‘I usually up my iron intake as well. It does help.’
‘You’re right though,’ Todoroki adds, eyebrows furrowed, ‘we don’t talk enough about heroes that menstruate. Plus, the fact that you can’t seem to find a way to manage your pain without it affecting your life is proof that they haven’t put much thought into it, isn’t it?’
Bakugou grunts in agreement. ‘My hag volunteers at women’s shelters and tries to raise funds for pain meds and hygiene supplies and shit. It’s ridiculous. All of that shit should be free. No one asks to have a period every month.’
‘We can change that though,’ Kirishima pipes in, always the voice of positivity. ‘Look at the four of us, talking about it! Yaomomo, I’m sorry.’
Momo blinks, ‘What for Kirishima?’
‘For not noticing! You must’ve been in so much pain all this time, huh? I’m sorry for not noticing and doing more.’
Momo feels something cold press against her arm. She looks down to see Bakugou pushing his unopened drink into her elbow.
‘Take it, staying hydrated helps with the cramps.’ He stands up and brushes his pants. ‘Think you can stand?’
Momo takes a sip of the drink, relishing the cold fizzy burn as it slides down her throat. She takes a deep breath and stands, stumbling a little before catching herself. Todoroki steadies her around the elbow.
‘Can we take you to recovery girl?’
Momo smiles warmly. ‘I’ve been already. We’ve been working together on some remedies. It’ll take time, but I hope we can come up with something.’ Momo hums. ‘I should put more work into this. I can’t be the only hero that faces such bad period pains.’
‘That’s so manly Yaomomo!’ Kirishima beams. ‘I’m kinda dumb so I don’t think I can help with the research but let me know if there’s anything else I can do.’
Momo giggles into the back of her hand and they start moving towards class together. As they reach the top of the stairs another bout of cramps settles into her gut, and she clenches the railing with a white knuckled grip.
The boys stand around, guarding her, supporting her, giving her small smiles and reassuring nods. Todoroki offers her his hand again, and she quickly makes a heating pad and hands it to him, so she can continue to use it during class. Bakugou urges her to drink more water, and Kirishima keeps telling her how manly she is.
When they get to class, everyone crowds around her and she laughs softly, promising to explain everything later. The rest of the day passes by with little incident, and throughout it all, Todoroki takes the heating pad from her, heats it up and hands it back, hour after hour.
They talk about it in the dorms after class, and recounting her episode opens the floodgates for all the girls.
‘I get really bad migraines,’ Uraraka sighs, rubbing at her temples as if in anticipation. ‘It makes the nausea from my quirk even more unbearable.’
Jirou nods. ‘I get you. I have leg cramps, makes it impossible to use my legs during heartbeat surround. The speakers are too painful to use, and I’m never as stable as I’d like to be.’ She gives Kirishima a pointed look. ‘I’ll join you at the gym next time, teach me some leg moves. I want to get stronger.’ Kirishima gives her a huge thumbs up and a blinding grin.
‘My back gives out sometimes,’ Mina says. ‘I have this pain that burns in my lower back on a few occasions, it’s the worst.’
‘I don’t have a lot of physical symptoms,’ Hagakure pipes in, ‘but I do have PMS and depressive episodes. I’ve been trying to figure out a good med balance to fix it.’ All the girls nod at that, squeezing her arms and shoulders in silent support.
The teachers are brought into the loop too, and Aizawa gently berates Momo for not coming to him sooner.
‘We’re here to help,’ he says, eyes the gentlest she’s ever seen. ‘Learn to rely on your teachers more, will you? Such troublemakers , the lot of you.’
Momo makes hot packs for the girls after that, and the teachers don’t blink when one of them passes it to Todoroki in the middle of class as the boy just heats it the appropriate amount before passing it back without so much as a hiccup in his work.
Bakugou sends Momo articles and tips from his mom about pain management and dealing with cramps. He says it’s because he wants her to be in top condition when he beats her for #1, otherwise it won’t, in his eloquent words, mean jack shit. Momo tries some stuff out, happily surprised when her symptoms are even the slightest bit reduced. Kirishima offers to make them all spinach shakes, and they take him up on that every so often, complimenting his limited cooking abilities.
And on the days Momo is back on the bathroom floor heaving into the toilet, Jirou holds her hair back. Mina cuddles her on the couch when her hands are clenched as she bites back tears, and Ojiro sits by her feet, a reassuring presence to depend on if she ever needs something.
They’ve still got a long way to go as a society, but it’s a start. And a damn good one at that.
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coffee-without-caffeine · 4 years ago
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Childe x reader ~ “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”
Details: Modern AU!, Soulmate AU!, F!reader (if anyone would like a male reader I can rewrite it to be with a male reader instead and post that too)  Character: Childe/Tartaglia (Genshin Impact)  Trigger Warnings: A very toxic relationship in the beginning (not with Childe), mentions of the mafia, mentions of attempted kidnapping, childe literally breaking into your house(?).  A/N: I love Kaeya but I couldn’t think of a better name so I just used his name for the ex. In now way shape or for is this how I see Kaeya or want others to see Kaeya so please keep this in mind when he is mentioned. Thank you <3
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“The mirror’s image tells me it’s home time,” 
The music blared from you phone as you curled into a tighter ball, pulling the polyester material closer to your face as it soaked up the stray tears. Why were you crying over him again, Kaeya, he wasn’t even your soulmate... Where was your soulmate? You’d been on this earth for twenty-two years yet you hadn’t heard a peep. Not a single word, tattoo, flare of pain. There was no red string tied around your finger like so many others had. Did you have a soulmate? Surely he would have shown up by now, or at least made his presence known. 
“But I’m not finished ‘cause you’re not by my side.”
The song was little more than background noise now as you found yourself stuck in your own head. After coming to the conclusion you were one of the unfortunate people born without a soulmate, you had turned to meaningless relationships. You had thought they were meaningless, until you had began a relationship with Kaeya.
“And as I arrived, I thought I saw you leaving,”
It had started off beautifully, everything perfect and as it should be. You weren’t sure what had changed within the time you had been dating but at one point the magic of a new relationship had faded and the curtain had dropped. Not once has Kaeya made an effort to show he cared about you, all of the effort had stemmed from you. You were the one who woke up each day and texted him good morning, you were the one who would listen to him rant only to be shut down when you were crying and in pain. Every phone call revolved around him and what he had to say while you could do nothing more than offer up how you agreed with him.
“Carrying your shoes, decided that once again I was just dreaming of bumping into you.”
You had thought it was normal at first, you were both in a happy and loving relationship so why should it matter if he listened to you or not. He didn’t have a soulmate just like you, so why did it matter? You were meant to be together, this was the universe’s way of giving you a soulmate. Right?
“Now it’s three in the morning, and I’m tryna change your mind.”
It took you longer than you’d like to admit to come to terms with the fact you didn’t have a soulmate. Having someone else who shared the pain with you, the feeling of losing something you never had to begin with, was the best feeling. It had filled what you thought to be the gap of your soulmate, like fitting a piece into a puzzle that wasn’t from the same set. It wasn’t supposed to work but it did. You were so happy to have someone like you, or so you had thought.
“Left you multiple missed calls, and to my message you reply”
He had a soulmate. That piece of information had snapped the last thread holding your relationship together. You had clung to the hope that there was someone else like you, but there wasn’t. You two had been arguing, over what you couldn’t remember, but things had gotten heated and he had screamed that he should have never dated someone who wasn’t his soulmate.  “You don’t have a soulmate though, you’re just like me! We’re meant to be together because of what we lack!” He had laughed cruelly, “You really think we were meant to be together? What are you stupid?”  You watched in horror as he pushed his long sleeve up his arm to reveal a gorgeous tattoo of a bundle of yellow carnations. You couldn’t hear him anymore, you couldn’t see anything except for that bundle of carnations inked onto his arm. There was no doubt that it was the mark of his soulmate.  “Get out of my apartment.” That’s when the tears had started falling. 
“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” Childe muttered as he walked down the bustling city street. “She’s listening to that song again? What is it now, the third time this week?” He thought, pushing his way through the crowd that blocked the entrance to the subway. Childe had ignored his soulmate for as long as he remembered. He refused to communicate in any way, never drawing on his skin, never singing to a song no matter how catchy (ahaha for ✨plot✨); not once had he tried to reach out. It wasn’t because he didn’t care about them, oh how he longed to hold you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, it was the exact opposite. Childe cared deeply for his soulmate and, in his mind, being the soulmate of someone deeply rooted in the mafia was more of a blessing than a curse. The Fatui were feared in most towns, known mainly for their debt collection tactics and their deep roots in politics at a national level. Childe had been taken in at a young age, handed over by his father in hopes to pay off his debt to the Fatui (yes I know in his actual backstory his father sent him to the Fatui in hopes to change is attitude, sorry I couldn’t find a way to fit that in properly). Childe had grown up, and soon rose up the ladder that was the Fatui, eventually becoming a so called “Harbinger,” one of the highest ranks within the Fatui. So, deciding that living life constantly worrying about his soulmate was not one he wished to live, Childe had decided to ignore his universe given other-half. That is until the universe had other plans. 
It was supposed to be a simple job, to give someone in debt a little bit of incentive to pay the Fatui back. They had found that Kaeya was close to a woman named Y/N. After a little bit of digging they had found out that Kaeya was in a relationship with Y/N, and that he had constantly been in and out of her apartment until a few days ago. Despite his recent break in the pattern of visits, his calls to Y/N’s number had remained more or less the same. Stepping out of the subway car Childe found himself running through the job once more. Break into the apartment, kidnap Y/N (yes, I know it’s cliche), leave a note for Kaeya and leave with you until he payed back his debt. It’d be quite a bit easier than most of his previous jobs, shouldn’t take him longer than two hours; the majority of it being the drive. What Childe hadn’t been expecting when he picked the lock and opened your door, was to see the very person he was supposed to kidnap cocooned in blankets, sobbing, and listening to the exact song that had been playing in his head the entire way here. Raising your tear stained face the two of you made eye contact, your red and puffy eyes meeting his wide and terrified ones. There was no denying it for either of you, the syncing of your breathing, the song that was now playing through both of your heads, you two were soulmates. Childe wasn’t sure how to react, halfway through the door and unsure if he was supposed to come any closer, he just stood there, unmoving. A pure mixture of fear and joy was pounding through this veins as he stared back.
You on the other hand, had no idea how to feel. You had spent your entire life believing you didn’t have a soulmate, and yet here he was half way through your door and a very bewildered look on his face. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that but you couldn’t say that your first impression of him was the best- seeing as that he had picked your lock and broken into your apartment while you were crying your eyes out. The circumstances of you meeting him had been less than ideal, as was the history of your relationship with him. You were so happy to have finally met him, that gap in your chest finally filled... but that wasn’t the only thing that filled your chest at the current moment; pure, burning, unbridled rage pooled in your chest and spread through out your body. You had a soulmate, but not once had you heard from him. Not a single sung lyric, not a single doodle on your arm, no tattoo or shared pain, nothing from the man who now stood fully in your apartment. Before you could process what exactly you were doing a harsh smack echoed through the space of your apartment.
Childe wasn’t sure how to feel now. After finally walking all the way into your apartment he had watched as you sprung from your bundle of blankets and stormed towards him. Apparently your way of greeting your soulmate wasn’t a hug or a handshake, it was to slap him straight across the face with surprising force. Childe was now looking at your wall with a stinging cheek and a blank mind.  He found himself speaking to you before he could think about what he was about to say “Well that’s one way to greet your soulmate.” Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to you. “Greet your soulmate? Greet your soulmate! ‘Greet your soulmate’ my ass I think I have every right to greet you like that when I didn’t know you existed until a couple of minutes ago! Keep in mind I have lived a soulmate less life for twenty-two years and here you are waltzing into my apartment after you picked the damned lock!” “At least I know you aren’t younger than me...?” And that’s how Childe found himself with not only a hand shaped mark on his right cheek, but a large goose egg on his forehead from the book you had unceremoniously flung at his face.
The two of you now sat on your couch, you with a freshly poured glass of wine and Childe with a bag of ice pressed to his forehead.  “So you mean to tell me that I have spent twenty-two years believing I didn’t have a soulmate, because you were part of the mafia and didn’t want to put my life at risk.” “That’s exactly what I’m saying, I’m so glad you under-” “God nobody told me that if I had a soulmate he was going to be such an idiot.” “-stand... I’m sorry what was that just now?” Of all the responses Childe had expected, yours wasn’t one of them. “I know you heard me perfectly fine.” You snapped back, reaching for the book that now sat on the coffee table. The look of pure fear on Childe’s face was one you wouldn’t forget as he raised the hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack in surrender.   Letting out a small huff you instead opted to grab your wine glass and drink the rest of the nearly full cup. “Look I could care less that you’re part of the fatui. While I don’t appreciate the fact you were going to kidnap me in order to get my ex to pay back his debt, I do understand why didn’t make yourself known all these years.” A guilty look overtook Childe’s face, one that made your heart ache, but you kept going. “We could have worked things out, I could have learned to protect myself better and you could continue to do your job. I understand you wanted to protect me physically, but you gravely miscalculated when it came to mentally protecting me.”  There was a beat of silence before Childe spoke, his words carrying an emotion you weren’t sure you could identify. Three words that carried so much meaning and heart, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he didn’t mean them. “I’m truly sorry.” 
Silence overtook your apartment once more, yet it was somehow lighter than the last wave. A mutual understanding, and forgiveness. Sure your soulmate was an idiot for not contacting you, and sure you could have not thrown a book at his head, but he was there. And so no words were exchanged as you rose from your chair and sat down next to Childe, leaning against his chest as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You would figure the rest out later, but for now it was just the two of you- and you were perfectly fine with that.
“So would it be too much to ask for a kiss?” “Don’t push your luck pretty boy.��
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letsperaltiago · 3 years ago
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show me you're shameless
the one where i upload the 2nd chapter 5 months after the first :)) so sorry skskss. anyways... CLUB FIC CHAPTER 2, BABYYY. And it’s getting smutty! Works fine on its own, but reading chapter 1 first does add that *extra spice*
Rating: E
Words: 5.8k
Read here or on Ao3
Besides the obvious bruising and swelling caused by Manson’s punch, Jake is unharmed and allowed to leave the hospital right after his debrief. Officer Wilson nicely offers to give him a ride home and after the day he’s had, which Jake gladly accepts - the faster he gets home, the faster he gets to see Amy. By the time he steps out of the car, onto the sidewalk framing Amy’s apartment building, and tells Wilson thanks for the ride, it’s closing in on two am. The streets of Brooklyn are as desert as the city that never sleeps can be, rather unusually quiet, but Jake can’t think about anything else but the painkillers he’s about to pop, the girlfriend he gets to kiss, and last but not least the soft bed that’ll promise him a good night’s sleep. 
Or so he thinks. 
The second he steps a foot into the apartment, using the spare key Amy gave him a few weeks ago which he proudly accepted, making him feel that more committed to their blossoming relationship, Jake immediately notices that something is not quite how it usually is. And if there’s something he loves about Amy and her place it’s how routine is everywhere to be found - from the tiny key-hook by the front door that holds Amy’s keys to how he knows the painkillers are stashed in the little pink plastic basket on the right top shelf of the bathroom sink cabinet. Tonight the atmosphere feels out of routine, almost making Jake feel like a stranger in an apartment that’s somewhat his own (they’re not quite there yet but they’re mostly at her place so). 
It’s not just because the only elements lighting up the blacked-out apartment are candles (quite many of them) which in itself is very weird because no way Amy Santiago would go to bed with a candle, let alone tens of them, lit. The scene screams fire hazard. Jake himself has a hard time putting a finger on it, but somehow the entire energy seems different. It’s as if, somehow, the air is charged with a certain electricity, and, for a second, Jake wonders if he’s accidentally let himself into the wrong apartment - but that’s not possible, right? No way Amy’s key works for other front doors. 
His keys make a by now familiar clinking sound as he places them on the key-hook, on top of Amy’s. A routine amidst the estranged feeling of this situation. Although he’d hoped and would’ve loved it if Amy had stayed up and waited for him, he knows his girlfriend’s schedule is highly prioritized (even over him, he learned very early on) and so he ignores her absence. What he can’t ignore is that Amy would’ve gone to bed with multiple candles still burning. Her silver three-arm candelabra on the dinner table, her rose-scented block candle on the coffee table, multiple smaller ones in the windows and around the couch/tv-area…
“Ames?” he calls out, loud enough to catch her attention if she’s awake but low enough to not wake her if she’s asleep. 
Silence.
He quickly shrugs off the absence of her reception, and, as per a routine he likes to think of as “domestic”, a new feeling and aspect being with Amy has introduced him to, he kicks off his shoes. Instead of leaving them to clutter up the room, like he would if it were his own apartment, he neatly aligns them with hers on her little shoe rack. His coat goes on on a coat stand instead of a random chair. It’s small gestures like these that make him feel more in sync with his girlfriend. This also leads him to go around the room to blow out the candles. He knows Amy will appreciate him doing it, but he’s just barely put out one candelabra-light when his beliefs are contradicted. 
Someone clears their throat and it has Jake freeze in his spot by the dinner table, much like a deer caught in headlights - a Jake caught in candlelights, one could say. All he can see is a silhouette standing in the hallway. Only just barely lit by the candles’ tiny flames, casting the otherwise dark room in a yellow and orange glow, it’s hard to see anything clearly. Still, there’s no doubt in Jake’s mind: It’s Amy. 
From the way her silhouette almost looks naked, her curves on full display, he can tell she’s still wearing the infamous red skintight dress. Her now messy dark locks frame her face - her beautiful , amazing face - and scatter onto her bare shoulders which are only covered by the sleek dress straps. She looks flushed, luminous, and Jake can’t help but wonder whether it’s the candlelight or the sudden heat he’s sensing. Did it actually just get really hot in here or just him? 
“You don’t like my candles?”
The sound of Amy’s voice is something Jake is very familiar with by now. Her presence has become something his senses immediately tap into, yet when she speaks, red, perfect lips shaping the words with precision, Jake feels his heart skip a beat as if it’s the first time seeing her. His jaw drops to the floor and he surely looks like an idiot, stuck in the same spot with no audible reaction. It surely doesn’t help when his girlfriend walks up to him in a way that has her look like a goddess on a runway. Slow, sleek, and surely she steps up to him as if she isn’t wearing uncomfortably tall stilettos. If Jake hadn’t previously listened to her complain about how awful these heels were then he’d beg her to wear them forever. 
“I- uh- yes? No? I don’t know?” 
A cocky chuckle gushes from her lips. It’s obvious that she has him right where she wants him, physically and mentally, and from the burning look in her eyes, he can tell she has a plan for them to follow tonight whilst she, hopefully,  wears that dress (at least for some of it). 
“I thought I’d try to make the most of the night...” Her eyes switch to the clock on her wall. Five past two. Her brown irises slot back together with his. “What we’ve got left at least.” 
He’s so entranced by her sultry gaze, mystery and mischief glowing in her eyes, that, until he suddenly feels her hands on his hips, he fails to notice how far across the room she’s made it. Now her warm breath is bedewing his neck, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt and Jake’s never been good at chess but this feels a lot like checkmate. 
He doesn’t say anything. Quite honestly unable to do anything else, he utters just the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, but Amy’s happy; it’s enough to reveal his true sentiments when she gracefully pops the first button with her sleek fingers. She pauses and holds his gaze. 
“I’m really glad we ran into each other tonight.”
Already very much confused and barely able to grasp what reality he’s in at this point, Jake offers her little statement a frown. Ran into each other? They literally went to the club together, what does she mean-
“Most guys I run into at that club are usually barely mediocre...”
Oh… OH. It all suddenly clicks. That’s what she’s doing. 
“... but you...” she interrupts herself by biting into her newly applied lipstick, showing off just how white her teeth are, as she moves on to pop the next button in line. “... you look like someone worth spending a night with.”
The colorful lights, the loud bass, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, their moment of weakness in the scummy bathroom; the sensation of being back in the club comes rushing back. All of this, along with it the thought of Amy Santiago being his scandalous one-night stand, flicks a switch within him. Being with her every day is indeed a much better deal, one he’d never want to change, but this fictional role of the one-night stand he’s been put in? Definitely works for him too. Now he just needs to get up to speed and make up for time wasted on being utterly obvious. Luckily Amy Santiago can turn him on easily as a faucet. 
“Yeah? You do this a lot, eh-?” He attempts, dabbling and getting comfortable in his newfound role. 
“Cassidy.” 
“Oh yeah, cool cool cool. Cassidy.” 
After this infamous fumbling, figuring things out, he shifts back into gear. His voice descends into a darker tone, as well as his eyes - and don’t even get him started on his train of thoughts. His hands, up until now stuck by his sides, gently latch onto her waist instead and the soft feel of her dress, silk, he guesses, helps him adopt the exact right mindset for this game. 
“So, Cassidy ,” he emphasizes the name as to get familiar with its taste, immediately learning that it savors of something poisonous and addicting. “You do this a lot? Take home guys without even knowing their name or telling them yours?”
Meanwhile, Amy’s already popped another button, revealing a good chunk of his chest, and has to tear her eyes away from it to meet his villainous gaze. There is no fighting it, and she willingly dives right into him as one would in a pool. Although instead of a clear blue mass of water, her’s is a dive right into a sinful twilight that’s slowly but surely consuming them both.
“Well,” she abandons the last two buttons untouched and sneaks her left hand down to the front of his pants to be met what she’s been patiently waiting for all night. A bulge, still quite modest but without a doubt present and growing. After all, they’re just getting started. “All you needed to do was ask for it. Like I’m going to do now: what’s your name?”
She grins, her eyes as well as her lips, and it takes every muscle in Jake’s body to think of a name, stay in the role, all while he’s not to give in to the hand that’s unmistakably cupping him through his pants. 
“I bet you’re used to asking for what you want.” He’s kind of proud of that line, he must admit. “... And I’m Andrew.”
“Good to know, Andrew. And yeah…” she tightens her grip on him just a tad more, “it’s the easiest way to get what I want.” 
“And what exactly do you want?” 
Just like hers had moments ago, Jake’s hands slowly travel south and back, getting two handfuls of her ass and the fabric that’s enhancing its perfect shape. He feels her breath sink into the skin of his neck and lower face, slowly and bit by bit becoming a part of him.
“Whatever you’re willing to give,” she kisses the side of his neck, feeling the dampness her breath has left behind. Turns out he tastes even better than usual, a mixture of him, cigarettes, and alcohol so having her lips let go already seems unnecessary. 
“And what if what I’m willing to give isn’t enough?” 
He shamelessly squeezes her ass, thanking God for this goddess of a woman he gets to call his, and he’d be lying if he said her sucking on his neck and the feeling of her full behind didn’t have him almost fully hard already. 
“Then I’m not shy of a little... begging,” she physically punctuates her sentence by letting her teeth sink into the skin right below his jaw, and it immediately sends her man of the night into another dimension where he can’t hold back and play nice any longer. Luckily, she doesn’t want him to. 
In the bat of an eye, he’s got her face cupped in his hands and their lips colliding with a hunger that makes it seem as if they’ve never kissed before this very moment. The kiss is clumsy, hungry as if they’ve been starving for days, and once in a while they can hear their teeth clacking, colliding. 
“You’re so gorgeous, Am- Cassidy,” he’s quick to correct himself. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you at that club. Was wondering how a fucking goddess like you was hanging out in a shit-hole like that.” 
He feels her hands cling onto his neck. In response, he has to let go of her face. Instead, his hands wander back down to his hips. Although rather than both slipping backward like earlier, one sneaks its way down and forward to get a grip on the hem of her dress. 
“And wearing this dress? How could I not notice you and instantly dream of fucking you in it.”
This rewards him a tiny moan, airy and soft right into his ear where her lips happen to be nibbling on his earlobe, and Jake knows he’s giving her exactly what they both want. 
“Touch me,” she breathes almost inaudibly and although he hears her he can’t help but push some buttons. 
“What are you saying, baby?” He smirks, slowly forcing the dress-hem up the warm skin of her thighs. “Say it again - louder.” 
“Touch me, please .”
With two fingers hooked around the red fabric he drags it up to stop right by her pubic bone. “Only because you’re so good at asking for it. I might have you beg a bit later.”
She barely answers, only utters a little uhuh . The same two fingers slowly slip beyond the fabric and slide across the already damp gusset. It’s with a small victory smile that Jake carefully starts rubbing the area, immediately earning himself a small whimper. It falls from her lips as if it’s been waiting to do so for a long time now, and her head drops to rest on his shoulder. 
“What did you say?” he cranes his neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of her face, but it’s mostly hidden in his neck. “Does that feel good?”
He doesn’t hear her but feels her nod against him, and so he adds a little more pressure with his fingers, digging into her through the fabric of what feels like lacy panties. 
“I have barely touched you and you’re already this wet. Do you want more? Is this okay?” His tone doesn’t change by Amy can tell it’s Jake asking, not Andrew. 
“Y-yes,” she whimpers, wishing he’d put more energy into touching her.
For a second Amy believes he can read her mind because as soon as the green light has officially been re-approved, her partner’s fingers force aside the gusset and gather some of her wetness to help embed themselves inside of her. He feels her shuffle on the spot in an attempt to stay on her feet and squirm a bit around him when his middle finger penetrates her, all to be summed up by a soft moan into his neck. 
“God, you’re soaked, baby. Do you know how good that feels? Do you feel good?” he slowly starts moving his fingers inside of her, in a pattern he knows she enjoys, and he has to use his free hand to stabilize her as he challenges her with a quicker pace.
“S-so good. More, please.”
Her wish is his command, and he immediately meets it by switching up the pace to which he can hear and feel her react right away. 
“This is so hot,” he breathes into the top of her head, her hair already mussed and messy from their fooling around. “You look amazing, you feel amazing. Kinda just wanna keep you in this dress. It looks fantastic on you.”
Busy whimpering and grinding along to the pace of his fingers, Amy has no time to reply and instead gives in to his upper hand. There’s something so exciting, so hot, not only about the roleplay but also the spontaneity of things, the way they haven’t even made their way out of the dining/living room. If Jak- Andrew wants to, he can have her right then and there. She wouldn’t mind one bit… 
Caught up in a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts, trapped in the vessel that is her quivering body, it comes as a surprise when suddenly Jake nudges her in the direction of the dining table. Making sure to stay away from the still lit candelabra, Jake backs her up against the wooden surface. 
“Sit,” he prompts and helps her over the edge of the table, safely seating her on it and as a consequence, his fingers slip out of her. They’re glistening with her juices and when he runs his hand across her thigh, her skin is smeared with her own lust. Then he nudges her legs further apart for him to fit in-between. The tight dress has by now suffered a lot of moving, already pushed up above her hips and creased into a bunch around her lower belly, which, once he’s ripped off her panties, leaves him with open access to where they both want him to bee.
“Wanna taste you,” he huffs into the kiss he’s pulled her into, leaving them both breathing hard and yearning for air when he retreats to sink to his knees. He’s left at the perfect height. “I’m gonna make you forget about all the guys before me.”
And he sure keeps his promise. 
He dives right into the sacred space between her legs, tongue first, drawing circles around and with her clit, while his hands are forged onto her shivering thighs, making sure they stay wide open and spread for him. Her heaves and tiny breaths escape her with shorter and shorter intervals, promising them both a climax, which his tongue follows, focusing on all the right spots. He continuously eats her out like he’s been starved and deprived for God knows how long,  and she’s his main course. 
“I-I’m almost there.”
She dares to let go of the table, just one hand, and plants it in his messy locks, which are already sweaty and wild from his rummaging between her legs. The tugging throws him into a higher gear that demands extra help from his fingers, still wet from earlier, which makes entering her easy. The second they sink into her, from the higher pitch of her moans, Jake can tell he acted wisely. She shakes, not only the thighs beneath her hands but her entire body, and he fights to keep up the pace that seems to be succeeding in bringing her closer to the edge. A few more pumps, licks and kisses to her inner thigh a couple of times before his tongue reunites with her clit for the final licks that have her climaxing with a loud moan, right there on the dinner table and his mouth. He pecks her heat a few more times as she comes down, then her inner thighs where he spreads her climax on her skin before standing up to see her leaned back onto the elbow that wasn’t tugging on his hair. The dress looks miserable crumpled up around her waist but something about it, paired with her closed eyes and messy makeup, leaves him with what he believes is the perfect picture. Her breathing is more or less just heaves and he lets her catch some air before he leans in to kiss her, open-mouthed as to allow her a taste of herself. 
“Good?” 
“So good,” she smiles right into the kiss, given a taste herself, eyes still closed as she focuses her energy on assembling herself for what is yet to come. 
“Wanna see what you’re hiding in here,” she breathes but Jake barely hears it as all he can currently fixate on is her hand cupping the bulge in his pants, and her nimble fingers working the button and zipper open. Who said attending multiple meticulous and detail-oriented bomb-defusing classes would never come in handy? 
 “Wanna suck you off. I’ve been wanting to all night, even in that disgusting bathroom we met in. Could’ve sucked you off while you looked at yourself in that disgusting mirror.” 
Though it’s pureoy fiction (at least for now - who knows?) Jake feels lightheaded just hearing her thoughts break free and let out into the open. Despite the fact he could never ask her to kneel on the club bathroom’s disgusting floor that, so filthy it stuck to your shoes when walking on it, just the thought of it does ignite something within him. One second they’re still making out, Amy on the table with Jake standing in between her legs, the next she’s got his pants unbuttoned and unzipped thus proceeding to push herself off the table, consequently pulling both his pants and boxers down at once (which kinda impresses Jake - he’s not gonna lie) as she gets descends to her knees. 
Cassidy, Amy, whoever she is in this moment, doesn’t waste time. Jake admires the adulterated hunger in her eyes as she wraps her fingers around his hard, pre-cum leaking cock to give it a few assisting pumps before leaning in to kiss the head. Her gaze diverts from his hard-on to his eyes, up at him through thick and black mascara-coated lashes, as she gives the very tip a tiny, almost experimental, lick. Just the sight and feel of her tongue on him, her saliva mixing with his pre-cum is enough to send him to heaven, but he sure doesn’t complain when the innocent lap is succeeded by a full-on licking motion that goes around his full girth. 
“Gosh, you’re killing me.” 
He reaches for her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as if to praise her for her actions. “You like this, huh? Hunting down your preys, taking them home… only for you to become the prey.” 
Nothing is answered, at least not verbally. Instead, she slowly goes down on the length, lips stretched to the max around him and batting her eyelids as her gagging reflex is challenged. His hand leaves her cheek and instead travels to the back of her head where it can get a good grip on her hair. Here it settles on following her movement as she bobs her head, swallowing him again and again. The grip on her doesn’t have a real purpose, he doesn’t try to control or force anything with it. All it really does is provide him with another pleasing aspect of feeling her movements, giving him some sense of staying grounded when the thrill becomes too much and he starts losing himself to the thrill of her actions. 
“Fuck, you look so good on your knees like this, and…” He’s interrupted by his own growl, escaping him the second he feels a very soft scratching of her teeth against his pulsing member. It takes him a few seconds to recollect himself. She’s sucking him off like a champion, one hand by the base, the other on his thigh, steady rhythm and small hums in between. Hums that he’ll remember till the day he dies. “Your lips stretched around my cock like this? Like they were made for it, fuck. I’m not gonna last though - not if you keep eating me up like this.” 
Her lips offer him a few more pumps, slowing down to a halt and leaving her in his mouth for a few seconds before she lets him slip out of her mouth, leaving a thin thread of a mix of saliva and pre-cum to hang on for dear life between her lips and his cock. She can taste him and he can see his discharge on her lips glowing in the candlelight. Her knees are pink and raw when she stands back up, hair messier than ever, and dress crumpled, bunched up around her waist. She’s amazing, Jake thinks, in awe of how he landed someone as perfect as her - in every way imaginable. Tonight is just one of many aspects, and every day with her is truly the best day ever
“C’mere,” he pulls her in by the waist, too caught up to let her go for even a second, and without even thinking twice his right hand cups her heat, feeling the wetness seep through her lips and trimmed bush. Just what he’d hoped for. “You’re gonna start dripping on the floor if we keep going like this.”
“Would you like that?” she breathes onto the shell of his ear, grinding into his hand, and sending shivers down his spine. 
“Yeah, I would… But I’d rather put how absolutely soaked you are to good use.” He slips his middle finger in between her folds, gathering wetness, feeling her squirm. “I’d much rather fuck you right into this wall…” he backs her into the nearest wall that’s clear of shelves and pictures frames, a low-risk area per se, “... while you’re wearing this stupidly hot dress.”
She’s sucking bruises into his neck, not allowing him to see her face, but the second her back hits the wall she’s back to kissing her way up to his lips. Here she tugs on his plump, still bruised bottom lip before dropping her head backward, letting it lull against the wall. Her eyes are darker than ever, brown irises borderline black, as she stares right into his. “Do it then.”
“Do what?” he challenges. He wants to hear her say it. Every word, every syllable. 
“Fuck me. Up against this wall. Wearing this red dress.” She pulls down the skirt, just to cover her ass and give him the full dress-experience rather than it just being fabric bundled up around her waist. “ Please .” 
It sure is impossible to not act when she bats her eyes at him, spilling filthy words, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Before he’s even fully aware, his animalistic instinct takes over and has him holding up her leg with one hand, the other giving his cock a few pumps prior to guiding the tip through her folds. 
“Cond-” 
She’s quick to interrupt. She knows it’s his character asking, since, in reality, they both know they’re clean and she’s on the pill - though she appreciates the effort of staying in character and the fact that Andres is a reasonable man.
“Fuck me. Raw.”
“You’re something else, Cassidy,” he chuckles, and having already gathered enough wetness on him he pushes into her, slowly and torturously, feeling her heat take him in and hearing her moan shatter the silence. 
“Yes,” she hisses at the stretch, her uplifted leg leaving her more open and the piercing sensation somewhat smoother. 
He starts slow, rocking into her with ease. 
“You look so hot. Can’t believe you’re letting me take you right here up against a wall. Fucking filthy.” 
He eventually picks up her other leg as he picks up speed and by the time he’s fully slamming into her with a powerful pace that has her legs shaking, he’s fully holding her off the floor and fucking her into the beige wall behind her. She moans with every thrust, every collision between her body and the wall, thumps, as she holds onto his shoulders for dear life, thighs burning from clinging onto his hips. The angle at which he penetrates her is just perfect, hitting and stimulating all the right zones, and, even comparing to the loads of amazing sex they’ve had, this, without a doubt , goes in the top three. The wall is cold against her back, creating a sizzling contrast to the heat forming between their rubbing fronts. His shoulders and arms are flexing under her weight, and now there’s no denying that Jake Peralta the hottest guy she’s even been with. 
“R-right there, ah, yes,” she hisses, head pressed back into the wall, the friction messing up her hair. 
“This feel good, huh?”
“So good- fuck , harder, please.” 
“You feel so good around me, you know that? All wet, all tight… Just like your dress. Fucking gorgeous.” 
He picks up the pace, putting great effort that has him sweating through his nice shirt, never fully removed, as he works her up, almost as if he hopes to leave an outline of her on the wall. Her moans pick up the pace, turning into small squeals that can barely come to an end before a new one takes over, and Jake can tell she’s closing in on a climax. So is he. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, J-Jake.”
It flies out of her, beyond her control. It’s hard to stay in character when your groin is one fire like (almost) never before, but she was the one to start the roleplay and he’s going to keep her in it. You have to finish what you started. 
“Who’s Jake?” the trust going in with his name is extra hard and earns him a loud whimper, topping all other sounds so far, as if to apologize for her mess-up. “Is he some other guy who you’ve taken home and gotten fucked by?”
“S-sorry, bad habit,” she leans in to kiss him in hopes of making him forget or at least let go. 
“Do I fuck you better than he did? Huh?”
She doesn’t say anything but keeps moaning, her pitch gradually becoming higher.
“Tell me,” he momentarily lets go of a leg, feeling her ankles hook together behind his back, to cup her cheek and force her to look right into his eyes. “Have you been fucked like this before?”
“N-no,” she stutters in-between his cocks collision with what he knows is her good spot. 
“Couldn’t hear you,” he growls, provoked, and dying to hear the statement in its entirety fall from her sinfully pink lips now that he’s gnawed off the red lipstick. Almost synchronously to his demand, he picks up the pace, heading for the last stretch, which he knows might not be the smartest when he wants her to speak. But Amy Santiago loves a good challenge. To his surprise, the always so consistent woman completely fails, moans turning into small screams as she chases her peak, and Jake can only forgive her inability to answer him right away. It doesn’t refrain him from insisting a few moments later though. 
“What did you say, baby?”
Every word is punctuated with a thrust, thrusts that go deeper than before, and Amy on her part is a wreck barely clinging onto him and the wall behind her.  
“I-I said…” melts into a groan when he, once again, strikes just the right spot. “I said that I’ve never been fucked like this before.” 
“Didn’t think so.”
Jake grins rather proudly even though, in reality, he’s competing with himself. Beads of sweat trickle down from under his wavy bangs who by now are very much soaked, plastered to his forehead like a wet (but also kinda cute, if you ask Amy) mop. In every which way possible, there’s something very special and satisfying about a chuffing, puffed-up, sweaty Jake holding her like he currently is, taking on this commanding role of Andrew, and Amy is sure: she won’t mind revisiting this act some other time. 
 “Be a good girl: suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”
His hand that was once on her cheek presents itself, and Amy doesn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed about how quickly, without any second thought, she opens her mouth for them. Obeying is part of her DNA and dutiful as Amy Santiago is she immediately welcomes his index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking on them with a great commitment that Jake undoubtedly appreciates. 
“Good girl,” he praises, their eyes’ locked in their perhaps most intense staring contest ever. Amy makes sure to take his fingers all the way in, lips reaching his knuckles, and Jake almost forgets his agenda. 
Keyword: almost. 
After slowing down the pace of his thrusts and retracting his fingers, to Amy’s great chagrin, the hand drops to between her legs, and his fingers are added to the mix, the chasing of her climax, and oh it definitely works. Amy’s whining reaches a brand new level, hitting a high note he’s never heard before, and he can feel her tense around his cock and fingers. She’s almost there, and even though Amy, in the red strappy dress, taking him so well, is a piece of art that he’d like to hang on a wall forever, he knows she needs release. And so does he. 
 “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that. Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s very distracting yet I can’t look away.”
High-pitched moans and whimpers are all he gets in return. His fingers slip out of her heat, now even wetter than after being sucked on, but don’t go far and redirect to give her clit the final attention. 
“If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.” He chuckles, leaning in just far enough to peck her lips, and if they hadn’t only been dating for a couple of months, the best couple of months ever , he would be pretty sure of the fact that he’s very much in love with Amy Santiago, Cassidy, Dora and every other version of his incredible girlfriend. 
“T-then don’t.”
So he doesn’t, her word is her command after all, and a couple of strokes and thrusts later, nibbling on her clavicle with just a bit more teeth than intended but too blown away to be able to control it, she lets out a cry as she comes apart around him. Limbs going limp, just barely managing to cling onto his body and avoiding a fall to the floor, Amy reaches and crashes completely, hitting a climax for the record books. Jake follows right behind, coming into her,  riding it out with her aftershock, and then the room goes silent as if nothing had happened. Only their heavy breathing is to be heard. 
“Shit,” she pants.
“The good kind?” he chuckles pulling out of her, but still carrying her. 
“The very good kind, Andrew . Maybe the best one yet.”
They share a small laugh as she pushes his sweaty hair back, admiring the admiration in his eyes that seconds ago were darker than the pitch-black night sky outside her window. How fast they can switch will never cease to amaze her. 
“Kinda sucks I let another man beat that record.”
“Well…” she leans in, offering him a consolatory kiss that he gladly accepts, before she pulls back, just an inch, to whispers against his lips. “The night is young. Andrew had his turn, now Jake Peralta can show me his worth.” 
“Holy shit- Amy Santiago, you’re going to be the death of me.”
It’s safe to say that Jake wins back the record and Amy eventually ends up washing her dress. Twice. On the warmest setting possible. 
50 notes · View notes
rafael-silva · 4 years ago
Note
38. Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt - bc this is def something joe and nicky do
thank you! and they absolutely do! 
joenicky + #38. letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt | from this prompt list
FLUFF, domestic fluff, domesticity, softness, comfort, seriously there’s so much fluff
It’s been a rough winter. Turning on his side and looking out of their balcony window, Joe’s eyes scan an endless horizon covered in snow, sun hooded by clouds in the sky. He catches glimpses of his reflection staring back at him, his bedridden hair and thick beard.
Nicky had left twenty minutes ago to get some groceries for dinner. He got dressed while watching Joe stretch out in bed, having just woken up from a nap, the heated room allowing him to be in just a soft cotton t-shirt and boxers. He smiled sleepily at Nicky, stretching out some more and stifling a yawn. Joe’s smile widened when he noticed that Nicky was holding a scarf that Joe had gifted him recently. A soft, green cashmere scarf he found while buying some supplies for their last mission. He says it brings out the color in Nicky’s eyes. Eyes Joe would happily stare into for the rest of his life.
Nicky looked up from where he was tying his shoe laces and the way Joe’s eyes crinkle as he smiled at him? Nicky feels his own smile spread in reciprocation. And that silver sparkle dancing around his husband’s eyes? Yeah, Nicky could easily sing his own poetry about how even after centuries together, it makes his heart leap around his chest. At times, Nicky stops, looks at Joe in wonder, his thought: this man is mine.
Joe offered to go with Nicky to the store two blocks down the road, but Nicky had shaken his head, grabbing a coat, which Joe suspects belongs to him (Nicky always did prefer wearing Joe’s clothes), his gloves and walks around to the empty side of their bed. Joe feels the soft mattress dip with Nicky’s weight, his body swaying a little, still heavy with sleep. His love balances himself on one knee and closes the gap between them with a tender kiss.
“Stay. Keep the bed warm for me,” Nicky had mumbled against Joe’s lips. “I won’t be long.”
Joe smiled against Nicky’s mouth and gave him another kiss. A silent promise.
Nicky turns on his heels and makes his way towards the door, only turning to give Joe one last smile over his shoulder and leaves.
And now, watching the scenery outside, a smile tugs on Joe’s face at the memory. He feels sleep pull at him from all edges and decides to go with it. With a palm laid on Nicky’s pillow that smells like him, he drifts off, engulfed in the warm and comforting scent that belongs to the owner of his heart.
Nicky returns to find Joe asleep, and in that moment, wishes he were the artist so he could sketch this perfect scene. Instead, he pauses in his tracks, a recyclable bag in each hand filled with dinner necessities, and his eyes capture the view like a camera shutter. He tucks it into his mind, along with decades and decades worth of memories with this beautiful man.
He moves around the studio as quietly as possible, storing everything where it belongs, in cupboards and in the fridge. With a peek at the clock hanging on the red brick wall, he decides they still have some time before they start on dinner. He moves further down the kitchen counter to where the coffee pot sits empty and cold, he pulls out Joe’s favorite coffee brand, his own favorite tea and gets to work, knowing Joe will want some caffeine intake once he’s awake and Nicky could use a good, warm cup of tea himself.
Nicky turns around just as he hears his name called from behind. Although it’s more of a whisper rather than a call.
“Nicolo.”
Nicky always found Joe’s deep, sleep-laced voice attractive.
He turns to find Joe squinting at him and quite honestly, looking absolutely adorable.
“Ciao, amore mio,” Nicky replies. Hello, my love. “I see you have, indeed, kept the bed warm for me,” he smirks.
“Warmer with you here,” Joe half says, half mumbles, clearly still working on fully waking up. He reaches out his arm towards Nicky, barely harnessing enough energy as it hangs in the air for a few seconds before falling down next to his body, a gesture that spells out come here, I’ve missed you. “Nico.”
Nicky chuckles. It was always intriguing watching the process of Joe waking up. “Sono qui.” I’m here. He kicks off his shoes and does as he promised, sliding into bed and immediately gravitates towards his husband.
Joe wastes no time in tucking his face into the crook of Nicky’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent he knows by heart and soul, the scent that is all Nicolo and lets out a content sigh. In return, Nicky wraps a hand around Joe’s shoulder and draws him in close.
“Hi habibi,” Joe whispers, his eyes closed. My love.
Nicky replies with a kiss planted on the top of Joe’s head. He closes his eyes, savoring this moment, as he held Joe, both of them breathing in sync. Hearts beating as one.
Nicky begins running his hand up and down Joe’s arm, hand colliding with bare skin, a movement he knows relaxes his partner.
“Your hand is cold,” Joe mutters.
“Hm?”
Joe opens one eye and looks up at Nicky. “Your hand is cold,” he repeats. “Were you wearing your gloves, amore mio?”
“Si,” Nicky nods. “It’s really cold outside. I don’t think they helped much.”
“Hmm,” Joe studies Nicky’s face for a moment. “Come here.”
A weird shuffling happens as Joe rearranges them on the bed, limbs moving all over the place until he’s satisfied. With his own hand, Joe takes Nicky’s cold ones and slips them underneath his own shirt, the sudden press of Nicky’s icy fingers to his hot skin prompts a little escaped hiss from him.
Nicky moves to pull back—there are other ways to heat his hands, he doesn’t need to freeze his husband in the process—but Joe’s hold on his arms stops him.
“It’s okay, Nico, it’s already passed,” Joe reassures him. “And your hands are already getting warmer.”
Nicky does feel that, and with Joe’s words, relaxes as he feels the coldness seep out of his skin.
It’s always been like this, whether it’s summer or winter, Joe runs hot, while Nicky runs slightly cooler.
Nicky slowly starts tracing Joe’s skin with warming fingertips, in a way he knows tickles the other man. And true to that, Joe’s squirming in a matter of seconds and a couple of honest to God giggles escape him before transforming into deep, hearty laughs.
“Is this what I get for wanting you to be warm?” Joe teases around a chuckle.
“I love hearing your laugh, habib albi,” Nicky replies. My heart’s love.
“And I,” Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s lips, “love you.”
Nicky gazes into Joe’s brown irises, getting lost in the depth, beauty and sincerity looking back at him. It takes his breath away. “I love you, Yusuf.”
With another smile and a soft kiss, Joe pulls back. “I smell coffee.”
Nicky nods and moves his eyes over to the counter where the coffee is ready, the pot filled and steaming.
Joe follows Nicky’s movement. “Did I tell you how much I love you?” He happily sighs, leaning back against the pillow and taking Nicky with him.
Nicky snickers, easily going with Joe and rests his head on Joe’s chest. “You can always tell me again.”
Joe’s reply is cut off and turns into another laugh as Nicky once again tickles him. His hands are warm now, but he keeps them plastered to Joe’s skin.
“The coffee is getting cold,” Joe says once he manages to take in a deep breath after a few more deep laughs.
Nicky moves his head and presses a gentle kiss to Joe’s neck. “I worked way too hard to let that coffee pot go cold.”
Joe playfully rolls his eyes at his husband. “I would hate for your hard work to go to waste. Come on, amore. You could use a cup of tea, too.”
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sadviper · 4 years ago
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Woo Do Hwan: Interview with Kankoku TV Drama vol. 97 (Aug 2020)
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Once again, much thanks to @staidwaters​ for graciously reviewing and correcting!!! This was a really hefty interview, hope you enjoy~
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Woo Do Hwan
Sword, bow, and horseback riding for the first time
A “Monstrous Newcomer” in a career-making, historical drama debut
In 2016, in the movie “Master”, Woo Do Hwan played the role of Lee Byung Hyun’s subordinate. Even though he appeared onscreen for just three minutes, he left a strong impression, attracting attention. Since then, he starred in “Save Me” (2017 OCN), taking on the nickname of “Monstrous Newcomer” and setting out on a brilliant career path. The next step he takes will be his first historical drama “My Country” (2019 JTBC).
Tackling a historical drama is an ideal chance for young and promising actors to grow; they have a rare chance to study in depth with multiple superb veteran actors over the long filming period. Woo Do Hwan did not miss this opportunity. His new work “The King: Eternal Monarch” (2020 SBS) leverages 120% of what he learned from “My Country”, and his popularity is surging.
Struck by a midwinter waterfall, the most dreadful and frigid opportunity to showcase yourself
--What kind of work is ”My Country”?
WDH: Each of the characters clash with the others for the sake of their personal convictions. This drama depicts their love and friendships. The country they are each reaching for ��� in a way, you could say they seek the same goal. Everyone wants a country in which they can live happily, but each person has a different path to that goal. This work skillfully depicts the conflicts that arise in the midst of this.
--Please introduce the role that you play.
WDH: Nam Seon-ho is an illegitimate child born to a family of nobles (yanban), and he has suffered greatly because of his birth. The poor guy is only able to relax his guard and laugh when he is with Seo Hwi (played by Yang Se Jong) and his younger sister Yeon (played by Jo Yi Hyun). However, even under such circumstances, he holds onto his ambitions. He doesn’t want other people to experience the same kind of pain that he has endured, so he strives to become the right-hand man of Yi Seong-gye (played by Kim Young-cheol), the future founder and king of the Joseon Dynasty. However, it doesn’t go as expected and I end up in opposition to Hwi, my dearest friend.
--What things did you pay attention to when creating the role?
WDH: Since it’s a period drama, it was difficult to get used to the way of speaking and tone of voice. It took me a while to get the hang of it. Now  I have the opposite problem, I’m doing my best to shake off the historical tone (laughs).
--The gorgeous hairstyles and clothing were a sight to behold.
WDH: Honestly, at first I thought “Long hair probably won’t suit me…” (laugh). So early on, I participated in many concept meetings and tried out different hairstyles. Even with long hair, there are many different hairstyles that can be made, such as wearing with armor or tying it up. I collaborated with the director to choose the most suitable style according to the situation in the drama. I was able to try on as many outfits as hairstyles, but I really enjoyed being  able to wear the special costumes such as the armor and the inspector’s garments; things we normally don’t get the chance to wear.
--How did you practice horseback riding, swordsmanship, and archery?
WDH: Before filming started, I studied martial arts for about two months. Filming lasted nine months, so in total I was focused on this work for a whole year. While filming action, it’s important to skillfully capture the scene, but the most essential thing is to not to get hurt. For that reason, the cinematographer, my co-stars, and I always had to be in perfect sync. It took time to match movements for the sword fights.
--You became the topic of much discussion when you revealed your magnificent physique in a waterfall during the opening of the drama. What are your secrets for managing your fitness?
WDH: I train on a regular basis. If I only started working out when I knew there were going to be scenes with skin showing, it’d be stressful trying to build up my body in a short period of time for shooting. After all, I don’t know when or where I will have to strip down for a scene! (laugh) Usually I play a lot of soccer, and I’ll go to the gym to train if I have time. If I take care of myself properly as a habit, then I don’t need to worry if my body looks good or if I should put in more effort during acting; I can just concentrate on my performance.
--Was the director’s reaction a good one?
WDH: He was extremely happy, hahaha. They keep trying to make me take my clothes off, so I was like, “Come on, give me a break!” The road to the filming location for the waterfall scene was rugged and steep and it was incredibly cold; it was the most difficult scene. Se-jong even said “I never want to go into water that cold again”.
--A lot of viewers said that “Nam Seon-ho is the most pitiful man in the world.” How do you personally feel?
WDH: I wanted to present Seon-ho as a tragic figure, so I was glad that the audience saw him the same way; it encouraged me to put in even more effort and I worked hard to build up his character. Seon-ho constantly stands on the boundary between life and death, living a life where he might die at any moment. He never manages to accomplish any of his dreams, and it is only at the very end that he realizes what is most precious to him. However, even though Seon-ho is a tragic character, if we just focused on the sadness the drama would be hard to watch and it wouldn’t be interesting at all. Therefore I wanted to show many things with him, such as him being a powerful figure, and the loneliness his power hides.
He was able to finish the drama because he was with Se-jong, his co-star of the same age.
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--At what points did you sympathize with Seon-ho?
WDH: There is always a conflict in Seon-ho’s life in that he always has to sacrifice something in order to get something he wants. Seon-ho’s situation is an extreme case, of course, but I think that in our lives there are many moments like his, even if they are small and trivial. Moments when we desire what we can’t have, or throw away things we shouldn’t throw away. There are also moments when we all have to give something up for the sake of a goal that we are reaching for.  In the midst of that, I worried about the things that I should protect, so I deeply sympathized with Seon-ho, whose ideals and emotions were in conflict with each other.
--Your portrayal of the character’s emotions was well-received. When was Seon-ho the most emotional?
WDH: It would be when he heard that Seo Hwi was alive. I had a deep rapport with Se-jong in all my scenes with him. From a certain point onwards, the events in the drama truly felt real, and I fell more and more in love with Se-jong (laugh). I deeply empathized with Seon-ho’s emotions, which made me want to perform even more intensely in this work.
--Concerning expressing emotions, are you the type to do a lot of preparation beforehand? Or are you the type to perform what you feel on the spot?
WDH: I think I am half-and-half. Beforehand, I’ll think, “So we’re filming this kind of scene today”,  why is this happening, and what was the situation before this scene? However, it’s difficult to continuously hold onto emotions because there are rehearsals and blocking out our positions with the director. So I will concentrate on creating the emotion in the moment when acting.
--And what about your mutually dependent relationship with Yang Se-jong, who played the role of Seo Hwi?
WDH: I believe it would have been very difficult if Se-jong hadn’t been there. I relied on him a lot. The make-up room was set up in a large van onsite, and while our hair was being done, we would go over our lines. If one person said their lines, then the other person would just naturally respond with their own lines. We are the same age, not just in the drama but also in real life, so in both the Goryeo and modern eras, we were always communicating well, back and forth.
Se-jong always helped me, and even though we were together on location for very long periods of time, not once did we fight or have a conflict of opinion. We spent our time together as good friends, always being considerate of each other.
--There were many scenes of Seon-ho and Hwi’s friendship that brought out tears, but was there a particular scene where you especially felt the friendship between the two?
WDH: All those scenes where we rescued each other. Especially that scene in the latter half, where Hwi took Seon-ho out of Yi Bang-won’s (played by Jang Hyuk) house; that was memorable. Then in the first half, during the massacre of the Liaodong Punitive Expedition advance party, there’s a scene where we cross swords in the midst of combat and I recognize my dear friend Hwi. That scene was very good and had a big impact.
--What is your impression of Seolhyun (AOA) as Han Hee-jae?
WDH: Seolhyun was truly a “celebrity” to me (laugh). She is one of Korea’s top idols; I’ve seen her movies. When I heard that she would be co-starring with me, I was very much looking forward to it. Once we were actually performing together, I was amazed that her acting was even better than I expected. Seolhyun was the youngest on location, but she had a very mature attitude during filming. In front of a large crowd of her seniors, she played a bold and strong woman. I was impressed.
--The antagonism between Seon-ho and his father was one of the highlights of the drama. How was it like to co-star with Ahn Nae-sang, who played the role of your father?
WDH: Ahn Nae-sang sunbae was like a real father, a very interesting person. Although he’d say “Seon-ho is an impertinent son” (laugh), he worked well with me, and did a lot for me. During breaks, he tells jokes and lightens the atmosphere on set, but once filming starts, his gaze radically changes and he becomes a terrifying father. He’s not someone who hands out advice left and right to juniors, rather, he is a person who reacts kindly and looks after us. 
Extremely jealous of Se-jong’s Japanese fanmeet
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--What are your thoughts on successfully wrapping up your first historical drama?
WDH: I wore hanbok, long wigs, and armor--I got to experience all of these things for the first time. I’ve also never done things like swordsmanship, archery, or horseback riding, so each one of those was a new challenge. Because I have never lived in that time period, I worried about how I should portray it. Despite that, I enjoyed everything. The remote locations that I visited were very beautiful, and during breaks it was a wonderful experience to enjoy the scenery and watch the seasons change instead of sitting in the dressing room. I’ve heard from my seniors that once you’ve done one historical drama, you’ll want to do another, and now I know what that feeling is like for myself.
--What was the most memorable location?
WDH: In the opening scenes, I often went to the countryside, but first I filmed the waterfall scene and the cliff scene. That cliff scene was absolutely terrifying. I scaled the cliff and did the action scene, but I thought...I might actually die if I fall (strained laugh).
--Watching the behind-the-scenes footage, you seem the quiet type but at the Japanese fanmeeting, I feel that you were skilled at speaking onstage. What is your actual personality?
WDH: Do I look like someone who doesn’t say much? I’m definitely not the talkative type, though. Hahaha. I talk a lot when I’m with Se-jong, but the interesting thing is, how much Se-jong and I will say changes depending on the day. On some days Se-jong speaks more than I do, and on other days I won’t shut up (laugh).
--Since filming continued for about a year, was it difficult to break free from the role of Seon-ho?
WDH: Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought about Seon-ho without today’s interview. However, Seon-ho’s sword is in my living room, so whenever I see it, I’m going to remember (laugh). But because I can’t use historical speech in the drama that I’m currently filming, I try to forget as much as possible.
--Currently you’re in the middle of filming the drama “The King”, right?
WDH: In “The King”, one person plays two different roles. The show depicts parallel worlds. In one world, Lee Min-ho sunbae plays the emperor and my character, Jo Yeong, has been by the emperor’s side since childhood and is the captain of the Royal Guard. In the other world, I am Jo Eun-seop, a social service worker whose personality is the complete opposite to Yeong’s. I’m having a lot of fun filming this, so please look forward to it.
--What does “my country” mean to you?
WDH: I believe it’s the people around me. I have family, I have friends, and I also have colleagues. A life where I can live happily with all of them, that is my dream country, I guess. No one goes on without desire, so I want to live together while caring for each other.
--You’ve been called the “Monstrous Newcomer”. With this kind of recognition, do you feel pressured?
WDH: I’m always under pressure. However, I tell myself I can’t lose to it, I have to work harder to overcome it.
--Finally, a message to your Japanese fans.
WDH: 2020 was the year I definitely wanted to meet all my Japanese fans, but filming for “The King” started earlier than expected and hasn’t finished yet. I was incredibly jealous when I heard that Se-jong held a Japanese fan meeting at the end of 2019. When “The King” finishes, I would like to meet you all. Until then, please take care of yourself and be happy. I will do my best to finish my work and greet you in good form. If you haven’t seen “My Country” yet, I definitely invite you to watch it.  I also hope you look forward to “The King”.
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You can direct fan mail to:
KEYEAST / 30, 11-Gil, Hakdong-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul 06042 Korea
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yellowangels · 4 years ago
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I wish for you: Maxwell Lord x Reader oneshot
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summary: (During the events of WW84) Reader has a crush on Maxwell and is certain they won’t act on it until he comes to them with a very strange and specific question. One that could change everything forever.
warnings: kinda spoilers! for WW84, but besides that none, fluff w just a bit of smooching and flirty Max
w/c: 1.8k
a/n: It’s Maxwell Lord’s birthday!!! I’ve had this fic in my notes for ages but didn’t think anyone would want to read it. BUT I knew I had to post something for the loml Maxwell Lord❤️ Hope you enjoy!
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Maxwell Lord was your boss. And having feelings for your boss was never acceptable and so embarrassingly cliche. You and his assistant, Emily, were close friends even before you started working for the same company, Black Gold Cooperative, so nobody was surprised to see you up on Max’s floor more than anyone else.
It had been a rough week of little productivity and Max seemed distant. Emily told you that he was shutting himself away in his office a lot more than usual and only when Alistair visited did he truly act like himself. You had noticed over the years that his soft side was reserved for very few people and you knew people glared at you when he smiled across the room after catching your eye. You knew he was just being polite though. Because he knew you. Though when your mind wandered, you let yourself hope that it was different, but your common sense would shut you down every time.
You were on his floor during your lunch break when he marched in, with a sense of confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. However much the dark circles around his bloodshot eyes and the sickly look to his face argued otherwise. His hair was slicked back messier than usual and a few strands had fallen down over his face. He had a determined gleam in his eye as he walked towards his office.
His eyes lit up when he saw you standing over Emily’s desk. She finished typing something on her computer and turned her head to him, before glancing up at you.
She stood as he stopped next to the desk, “Would you like an espresso, Mr Lord? I didn’t know you would be back at the office so soon.” She clasped her hands over her ID card and stepped around the desk.
He forced out a small smile, “Yes. That would be brilliant.”
You started to follow her, fearful of getting in the way and getting you both in trouble, when he raised his hand towards you.
“Wait.” He blurted out, “Sorry. Could you stay a minute? I need your insight on a few files your department sent to me. I’m sure Miss Reats is capable of getting a coffee without your help.” He raised his eyebrows and you watched him hesitantly.
You glanced at Emily and widened your eyes for a split second after nodding and you walked towards him. Uncomfortable at the thought of Emily leaving, you hoped that making a fool out of yourself whenever you were alone with him was in the past.
She smiled at you as she stepped out of the room. You turned to Max, but he wasn’t there. Walking closer to his office, you saw him leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his face, squeezing his eyes shut, but as soon as he felt your presence he snapped his eyes open.
“Come in. Come in.” He stood and made his way over to the sofa in the corner of the room.
He watched you hesitantly step into the room and held his hand out to you as you got closer.
“You said there were some files?” You questioned.
“Yes, but I need to talk to you about something different first,” He impatiently spoke, stepping towards you when you hesitated, “You don’t need to look so uncomfortable, you know?”
He smiled lightly and took your hand, pulling you to sit down with him.
“I’m not uncomfortable.” You defended as you both sat down.
“Maybe not, but you look it. Do I make you nervous?” He asked quietly.
“A little bit.” You looked down and smiled. He chuckled.
“It is not done intentionally.” He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you looked up at him quickly. There were a few seconds of silence as you watched each other, waiting for the other to continue.
You broke the silence, “What was it you wanted to talk about?” You whispered, almost inaudibly.
He shuffled closer, lowering his voice as well, “If I told you I had the power to grant your biggest wish. Your deepest desire. Would you believe me?” He raised his eyebrows.
You frowned softly, “How?”
“There is more power in this world than you think, my dear, and I have that power. Whatever you wish will come true.” He stared sincerely into your eyes, his face inches away, “All you have to do is say it.”
You blinked a few times, “I- I don’t know what my biggest wish is.”
“Oh, but you must want something. Everyone has something they want, but believe they can never have.” He places your hand in his lap, holding it in his tightly, “I can see you are holding something back.”
You froze, “I can’t say it.”
“I assure you that whatever it is will come true,” He emphasises, “Don’t hold back. There is nothing to fear. I am not here to judge. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t care about your happiness.”
You smiled softly and the hand he wasn’t holding found his face, cupping it in your hold, “And what happens afterwards,” You paused, “After the wish ends.”
“It doesn’t have to end. I suppose if you wish for a moment then it will end, but you don’t have to wish for something specific. Wish whatever your heart wants,” He smiled encouragingly, “Don’t think about it. Just wish.”
You hesitated and glanced down, you wished he would stop looking at you like you were the only person in the world.
“I guess I can’t wish for anyone to fall in love with me.” You grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
A flicker of an unrecognisable emotion crossed his face before he smiled, “Ah, I don’t think the wishing rule book allows that, no. I don’t know why you would have to wish for love. You have every man on floor 16 in love with you.”
You grimaced playfully, “The men on floor 16 aren’t really my type.”
“Well, I would hope not. They give in too easily.” He chuckled, “You know, the coffee shop is only a few blocks away, Emily will be back soon.”
You raised your eyebrows, “If you want me to make the wish, then you can just say.” You teased.
Max smirked and lowered his voice, “Make the wish.”
You leaned closer to him, so close that you could feel his breath, “I- I wish.. I wish you would kiss me.”
A gust of wind, seemingly from nowhere, blew between you. Max’s eyes widen as he realises what you said. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply as the wish consumes his actions. He lets go of your hand and reaches up to cup your face in his hands, muttering out your name.
You frown, almost regretting your wish, when his eyes shoot open and stare into yours, before gently closing again. He leans in until his lips brush against yours and you reach out to grab his shoulder, pulling him into you. Your lips crash together, moving in perfect sync.
He strokes your cheek and kisses you so feverishly, that for a second you forget that you had tricked him into this and that he will feel nothing but resentment afterwards.
You try to pull away, feeling guilty, but he just moves closer, pressing his body against yours. He deepens the kiss and you let him. You are so lost in the kiss and it only heightens the feelings you have kept secret for so long.
When you both seem to run out of air, tangled in each other, you pull away and he leans his forehead on yours, not wanting to let go.
You blink your eyes open and bite down on your lip, emotions twisted and confused.
Max leans away so he can look at your face and he breathes out.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You panic, trying to stand up.
He shakes his head subtly and grabs your hand as you go to leave, “No.” He grunts.
You look back at him and he looks up at you, “Don’t go.” He says, softly.
“No. I have to. I have to go. I’m pretty sure I just broke lots of wish rules and I-“
He stands up suddenly and kisses you, cutting you off.
You pull your head away, surprised, “What’s happening? I thought the wish was over.” You frown.
“It is,” He shakes his head, shocked, “I can’t believe you’d waste your wish like that.”
“What do you mean, Max?” You look down.
“I mean,” He steps closer, “all you had to do was ask. I would kiss you without a wish every time. All the time. Whenever you wanted me to.” He exclaims, leaning in and kissing your forehead lightly.
You frowned, “You’d want to kiss me?”
His eyes soften, “Yes. God. I’ve wanted to for years.”
You sigh painfully, “Wow, that wish really has done a number on you. You’re oblivious to it’s effects.” You struggle to get away.
“No. It hasn’t. I promise you that I mean every word I say.” He insists.
“But, Max, why?”
“Clearly you are the oblivious one. I am always making excuses to be around you. Surely you’ve figured out why.”
You shake your head, in denial, “But, that’s because-“
“-There’s no other reason or excuse you could present. I know that you notice me staring from across the room. And surely you knew how I felt at the office party.”
You scoffed, embarrassed, “What? When I humiliated myself by flirting with you?”
“I wouldn’t say you humiliated yourself. I was very humbled. That you’d want to flirt with me.”
“But you left. You didn’t tell me anything about how you feel.” You step back.
He frowns, “Then you and I remember that night very differently. I left, yes, but only because I got a message from Alistair’s babysitter and there was a situation I had to sort out. When I came back to the party, you found me and you took me up here. I told you how beautiful you were and you kissed me and then panicked and ran from the party. Surely you remember that.”
You blush, “No. Everyone said you never came back.”
“I did. I came back for you.” He smiles warmly.
You stare into his brown eyes trying to see any hint of lies and all you see is sincerity. You smile softly.
“Can I kiss you again?” You mumble, stepping forward.
He smirks, “Sorry. What was that? You’ll have to speak up.”
You giggle, “I said, can I kiss you?”
He pulls you into him by your waist and murmurs against your lips, “Yes. Always.”
tags: (please tell me if you don’t want to be tagged) @asta-lily @thewayofthemandalorian @mishasminion360 @perropascal @pascalscenarios @violentcosmicsymphony @thebatshitcrazyfangirl @shiny-captain-no-pants @adaodinson
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attackonmango · 3 years ago
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|Teasing| Porco Galliard x Fem!Reader x Zeke x Reiner|💦|
|Throat fucking, oral(m receiving), teasing and mentions of daddy in the form of a nickname, praise, dirty talk|
|Song recommendation: Ordinary Life - The weeknd|
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It happened just as you planned, though it took a bit longer than expected, Porco endured this torture as you taunted his friends like a champ. Teasing Porco in a short and frilly black skirt as you paraded around was a perfect way to calm the pattering inside your core. Your thighs deliciously plush and rubbing together due to the lack of your usual tights. The black skirt was paired with a yellow top that went well with the skirt. A sliver of cleavage peeking from the neckline. Just enough to piss Porco off. Because Reiner, Zeke and Colt’s peering and hungry eyes.
You relish in the glory of the pissed look at was plastered on Porco’s face as he grumbled out his replies, pouting every time attention was on you. You smile at the jealous expression appointed on his beautiful features.
His fingers curling into fists as his mates complimented you. Ones that you took as you were utterly unbashful, your smile never faltering.
“I love your hair, Y/N.” Colt gushes, his eyes flickering from yours to your tits, hair delicately framing them in soft tendrils, a faint blush on his cheeks as you smiled softly at him.
Reiner watched as your thighs jiggle as you swing your legs, feet hovering because they didn't reach the floor. He peered from a side glance as your clothes hugged your marvelous body. He couldn't help but eye what chub you have, thinking about how soft your tummy would feel against him chest. “Your outfit looks amazing.”
“Yea, what is there, looks pretty. Porco let you in here like that?” Zeke teased, peering down at you over his glasses. His eyes eating you up when you weren’t paying attention or when he though Porco wasn’t. “Porco doesn't control what I wear,” you'd roll your eyes, knowing it would rile him up. You smirk when he scoffs, rolling his eyes as his arms crossed around his chest.
“I compliment her enough so watch it,” Porco seethed each time, replying for you. You’d just laugh, and shake your head before giving a smile in reply.
He could’ve sworn he hid that outfit. How did you find it? Guess it didn’t matter now, not when this could end in something fun.
You were driving his friend nuts as they watched the fabric of your skirt flow around your thighs. Zeke sucked down his cigarette a bit fast, and Reiner couldn’t keep his hands off the collar of his shirt as their eyes trail after your every move, clearing his throat every time he looks at you. It didn’t help that Colt had his hands in his lap, his eyes following you shamelessly, a stupid grin on his face. And Porco couldn't stand it. He wasn't one for sharing and he didn't like your flaunting. To put shortly, he wasn't amused by your action.
The way your tits squeezed together as you jotted down the battle plans and essentially Zeke’s every word. Porco hated the way you stared at Zeke, the amusement of evident on your face as the war chief stumbled over his words, swallowing thickly as his eyes lingered on your plentiful breasts.
Rolling his eyes, Porco jumped out of his seat, not flinching as the chair scraped against the floor. His jaw clenched as he glared down upon you. “Bring your ass.” His harsh words fill you with anticipation as he stalked off after grabbing his.
“Can we come too?” Colt called after his friend, his expression dead serious, “cuz I mean..” he trailed off as he railed you with his eyes.
“Damn,” Zeke and Reiner muttered in sync, finishing for Colt. You blush at their reaction, cringing at the thought. Porco didn’t miss the way their eyes fucked you as you stood up and trailed after him like a lost puppy, not wasting much time to keep up with him.
They shut up due to the glare that Porco shot in their direction, over his shoulder. “Fuck no,” his words laced with the deadliest venom he could muster.
As you stood, you used your hand to cover your ass, but it didn’t stop your skirt from flipping up a bit, revealing a sliver of your ass cheek. They relished in the fact that your panties matched your laced yellow shirt. The wet spot on your chair bringing blood to their aching cocks. How Porco’s bitch ass got someone like you was beyond them.
But what could you say? You loved how aggressive he could get. He was the only one who got your rocks off the way you love. He fucked you into submission and it made you want more.
You had to jog to keep up with Porco’s long strides. As you walked behind him, you could feel the heat radiating off him. You slam into his back as he suddenly stills.
He says nothing to you as he pulls open an empty extra closet. It had enough room for you both to fit comfortably in the room, an entire wall clear, so he wastes no time shoving you inside. But Porco didn’t want you comfortable; he wanted you stuck, not worrying about having you any space to do anything other than sit on your knees for him. He had you in the corner, facing him while his back was inches from the door. “You think you are fucking slick?” he'd breath down at you, his eyes peering down at you, while his mind wandered over the things he could do to you, even in this small room. He shook his head at the thought. All that could wait, for now. His finger nipping at the nude buds under your shirt brings a high pitched sigh from your lip. Of course you didn't have a bra on. Such a fucking tease.
“Such a bad girl,” he growled as his hand harshly patted your head. You try not to cry out as his hand-knotted up in your hair. The other hand gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth to part. Once he got it to open, his finger prodded your tongue, making your jaw ache. “Teasing me,” you savoured the fire that burned intensely in his honey eyes that made you shudder under his touch, as you hollowed your cheeks around his fingers a few times, teasingly. “By teasing my friends.” His hand dug into his pants, fishing out his hard cock.
“Shit,” you wince as his dick hits the side of your face, springing outward. You can’t help but recoil back, Porco’s fingers falling from your lips, connected still with a string of spit. “I-I just thought the outfit was cute; I wasn’t trying to tease anyone.” You lied through your teeth, almost convincingly, feigning a plea for mercy. You made this bed, and you wanted to enjoy it.
The shocked look painted on your features and the glint in your eyes mocking innocence. The way you slowed thickly around his hand travelled to your neck. The exhale you gave when his grip tightened softly. Too bad Porco didn’t care. He had you right where he wanted you. Your lying didn’t fool him, for he knew better. He made a mental note to bring that up later.
“Tough shit, open up.” He brought you closer to his hips. His dick dangling by your moist lips that you licked with yearning.
But you don’t open your mouth until a soft smack lands on your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, mouth dropping at his words. “Be a good girl, come on, don’t be dumb, you know how this goes.” He commanded, his eyes stoic and cold while a sly smirk played on his lips. The harshness was paired with a loving stroke on your head.
Drool pooled in your mouth as Porco placed his cock on your wet muscle. A growl crawling up his throat as your spit coated his thick cock as it stretched your mouth, almost unpleasantly.
You hummed delightfully as his pre-cum filled your taste buds. “Come on, baby. Suck.” His hand in your hair tightening, causing you to cry around Porco’s cock. Obeying him, you resume prodding him with a sliding tongue. Cheeks hollowing around him.
His hand left your throat as his hips rocked into your mouth, as you ran your tongue around his tip before it trailed down his shaft. He revelled in how he fucked you into the corner, hand blocking your head from hitting the wall too hard, though you bounced around a bit. Slurping erupt from your mouth as your tongue rested at the base of his cock.
Massaging his balls with your tongue coaxed soft groans from Porco’s chest, the back of your throat greeting his sensitive tip. “Fuck, your mouth feels fucking amazing.” He rutted into your mouth, holding you all the way down on his cock as his free hand disheveling his habitual slick back hair style, curtaining his forehead. “You look perfect sucking Daddy’s cock.” He praised, loud enough for Reiner and Zeke to hear, he made sure. You were his, after all; he had you wrapped around his finger and your lips around his cock.
Shame and arousal were piling in your chest at the nickname he gave himself while you gagged on his throbbing length as it skimmed your uvula, repeatedly. You couldn’t help but groan as the ache in your jaw grew while you bob your head up in down. “Remember who you belong to, Y/N,” Porco muttered possessively, losing himself in your throat. Confidence surged through you, feeling how he throbbed against your sopping tongue. You pull your mouth back far enough to wrap both of your hands on the base of his dick, pumping away.
Throat squelching as Porco jackhammered into it, chasing the high that he felt like he deserved. He stared into your fucked out eyes, chuckling at the tears that muddled in them, falling silently and freely on to his thighs; Man, how pathetic and pretty you looked while you sucked him off. “Fuck..dammit, swallow it all!” Porco shouted his command as his cock spazzing inside her throat as it spilled from his cock. The thick bodily fluid salty as it coats the back of your tongue. Spurting down your throat as Porco held you still, not giving you a choice to let off, while he holds you with both hands, fucking so deep into your throat that he could feel a heartbeat in your neck. Guzzling him up like the lady you were, you weren't going to be rude and spit out what he worked so hard to make for you.
His dick pokes around in your mouth as you are forced to swallow every last drop. You gasp as he pulls from your mouth, hand massaging your head in praise, signal a job well done. Not caring about the line of drool that trailed from your bruised lips to his softening cock, Porco tucked it away anyways. You smile as Porco uses his shirt to gently wipe your lips while he stood above you, smirking at your panting figure. His breathing matching yours.
“We aren’t done yet, but at least the guys know what’s up,” Porco murmured as he pulled you to your feet. “You belong to me, right,” he reminded you, not caring to ask, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You loved his possessive nature and the way he brought you to your knees to pleasure himself.
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