#this answer was honestly not supposed to be this long

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ blondie - y.jw }

pairing: blonde jungwon x f. reader

contents: dry humping, dirty talk, p in v, body worship kinda, subbish jw, domish reader, kissing, begging

a.n. honestly can’t believe i haven’t written about blonde won yet… wc 1.5k

MINORS DNI

he wasn’t supposed to look that good.

it was just new hair. that’s what you kept telling yourself. a harmless dye job. but when he walked in with that golden blonde halo, soft bangs falling into his eyes, a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself—you felt it. a shift.

now he was sitting beside you on the couch, legs spread, hand draped lazily over the backrest behind your shoulders like he hadn’t just completely ruined your ability to focus for the past hour.

“you’ve been staring,” he said, head tilted, voice soft but smug.

you blinked at him, flustered. “no, i haven’t.”

he smirked. “you totally have. what—do i look that different?”

and when he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, letting a few strands fall back over his eyes—you snapped.

you didn’t answer. you just climbed into his lap.

“whoa—wait—”

but his hands were already on your hips, catching you like he wanted this. like he’d been waiting for you to do it first. your fingers tangled into his freshly dyed hair, and you yanked just enough to make him groan under his breath.

“i have been staring,” you whispered, lips grazing his jaw. “because you look fucking hot.”

color flushed to his cheeks, but he didn’t stop you. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you flush against the hard length straining in his jeans.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, voice breathless, eyes locked on your lips.

and then you kissed him—soft at first, testing, but he melted into it like he’d been starving for your mouth. his hands slid up your back, under your shirt, nails dragging just a little. you rocked against him, hips slow and deliberate, grinding down right where he needed it.

he broke the kiss with a gasp. “fuck—if you keep doing that—”

“then what?” you teased, fingers tugging at his hair. “you gonna make me stop?”

his eyes flashed. “hell no.”

with that, he leaned back, letting you grind on him like he was yours to use—and he was. his head tilted just right, letting your mouth find the soft skin under his jaw while his hands roamed your thighs, your waist, your ass, gripping and guiding.

“you’re insane,” he groaned, hips jerking up to meet your rhythm. “wearing those shorts, sitting so close all night—what the hell was i supposed to do?”

“touch me,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear. “just like this.”

your shirt came off next—his hands sliding up your bare waist, worshipping the way your body moved for him. you could feel how hard he was beneath you, desperate and throbbing, and when you rolled your hips just right, he whimpered.

it was the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

“you wanna fuck me, don’t you?” you breathed, hand sliding down between your bodies to palm him through his jeans.

“god, yes,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, blonde hair a mess between your fingers. “i’ve wanted to for so fucking long.”

“then beg for it.”

you could feel him shudder—completely undone beneath you. he looked up at you like you were the only thing in the world.

“please,” he whispered. “i need you. need to feel you—please let me.”

you kissed him again—hotter this time, deeper, tongue sliding against his while your fingers worked his belt open, pulling his jeans down just enough to free him. and god… he was hard. thick, flushed, already leaking against his stomach like he couldn’t stand another second untouched.

his breath hitched when your hand wrapped around him, stroking slow, watching him come completely undone under your touch.

“f-fuck—” he gasped, head tipping back against the couch, hands gripping your thighs so tight they’d bruise. “you’re gonna drive me insane…”

you leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “i haven’t even started yet.”

his hoodie was off in seconds, shirt pushed up just enough to expose his toned stomach—taut, twitching under your lips as you kissed your way down. but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. watching, wide-eyed and breathless, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

then you slid your soaked panties to the side, lined yourself up, and sank down on him.

“oh my—fuck,” jungwon choked out, both hands flying to your waist, fingers digging in like he needed something to ground himself.

he was so deep. thick and stretching you in all the right ways, fitting inside you like he’d been waiting his whole life for it.

you started to move—slow, dragging your hips up and down, letting him feel every inch of you.

he was a mess beneath you, mouth falling open, blonde hair stuck to his forehead as he tried to keep it together.

“y-you feel…” he groaned, thrusting up involuntarily, making you gasp. “so fucking tight, i can’t—shit—”

you leaned forward, grabbing his jaw so he’d look at you, nose to nose.

“look at me while i ride you,” you whispered. “wanna see how pretty you are when you come.”

and he lost it.

he met your rhythm now, bucking up into you with messy, needy thrusts, hands sliding under your ass to pull you down harder. his moans spilled into your mouth as you kissed him through it, your nails dragging down his chest.

“not gonna last,” he panted. “you feel too good—fuck, please let me come inside—please—”

you were close too. so close it hurt. the pressure, the stretch, the friction—everything building fast, sharp, overwhelming.

“do it,” you gasped. “come for me, jungwon. fill me up.”

and with a strangled moan, he did—hips jerking up hard, cock pulsing inside you as he spilled everything, his whole body shaking from how hard he came. you weren’t far behind—your own orgasm crashing over you, making you cry out as your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop.

you collapsed against him, chests heaving, bodies trembling, sweat and heat and the scent of sex thick in the air.

for a long moment, neither of you moved.

then he laughed, breathless and dazed, arms wrapping around your waist.

“you’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” he whispered.

you smiled against his neck. “not a chance.”

…

..

.

[nemisuki]

𐔌✧.* ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ೀ⋆ || Just your man driving over to protect you from a cat caller, he’d even break the law for you ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

. ♬ ݁˖ || inspo song : spotify version & yt version ᯓ★ 

ᝰ.ᐟ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, acts of service, 1.5k word count •°. *࿐

To say your boyfriend was a bit protective… certainly turned out to be the biggest understatement of the century. 

You should’ve assumed from the moment you two started dating that he would be like this, whenever a man would so much as stare at you — a little too long for his liking — the blonde would quickly step in front of you, blocking their line of sight.

All while glaring absolute daggers at the onlooker.

He would never immediately tell you though, not wanting to interrupt whatever you were rambling on about.

Plus he knew it always made you feel uneasy, always clinging to his side whenever he muttered something along the lines of “fucking creep is starin’ at you” or “walk closer to me yeah?”

Because Katsuki Bakugo was never one to play about his woman. 

You smile at the familiar contact under ‘Blasty💥’ as your phone begins to buzz, already imagining an impatient man behind the screen, whose no doubt waiting for you to answer. 

So you do, continuing to walk down the streets under the night sky, holding the mobile device against your ears, not even having time to speak since he beats you to it. 

“Where are you hah?”

You giggle.

“Wow, not even a hello Katsuki?”

He grumbles through the speaker, the sound of a car door closing — of his Porsche no doubt — echoing in the background, meaning he must’ve already finished his patrol, already preparing to head home. 

Likely calling you in case you were nearby. 

“Yeah yeah, hi or whatever. Now answer the question, dumbass.”

You hum.

“I’m walking home right now, stopped by the store to grab us some dinner—”

“Tch, I told yur’ ass to stop doin’ that, I can cook dammit.”

You can hear the way his car engine switches on in an instant, soon buckling on his seat belt, clearly determined to pick you up.

This man sure is a force of nature, but deep down, a massive softie… well maybe only to you.

Your eyes soften.

“I know but you’ve been really busy this week, thought we could eat takeout and watch a movie or something.”

It’s silent for a moment, and it honestly made you wonder if he was genuinely upset, I mean… you suppose he does enjoy being in the kitchen — cooking amazing meals whenever given the opportunity.

You slow down your stride. 

“Oh I’m sorry Kats, I should’ve asked first—“

He scoffs.

“Stop apologizing nerd, I was just checking your location. Stay where you are, yeah? I’ll be there in 15.... and the food better be damn good.”

You couldn’t help the cheesy smile that formed on your face, finding his last few words so stinkin' cute as he attempts to reassure you.

Deciding to stand near an open diner, you continue filling in Katsuki about your day, unlike him — having a relatively calm job at one of the local shops around here — despite the blonde constantly reminding you that it’s okay to not work anymore.

Since you quote on quote “shouldn’t be paying for anything in the fucking first place” because you have him. 

You didn’t mind though, it helped you keep busy whenever he wasn’t around and a few extra dollars to your name couldn't hurt!

For the most part, it was a relatively peaceful night — for the most part.

Until something suddenly switched in the air, the feeling of someone watching, sent a wave of uneasiness through your veins, temporarily distracting you from Katsuki's voice on the line.

You look around, taking notice of a man sitting a few steps away in his car, shamelessly staring you down with a gaze that screams danger.

Unsure of what to do, you simply try to ignore it, in hopes he’ll eventually look away, but he didn’t, so in order to avoid any further interactions — you grab your bags, starting to search for another place to wait at. 

Already hearing disgusting comments the man was making about your appearance; an obnoxious cat caller per usual.

It was beyond discomforting.

And Katsuki being perceptive as he is, took notice of your sudden silence, his brows furrowing as he glanced at the phone on the dashboard.

“Oi, you still there?”

You jolt out of your spiraling thoughts, mustering up the best response you could say with a — very much phony — relaxed tone, not wanting to alarm the blonde.

“Hm? Oh yeah sorry… I was just—"

Though you should’ve known it was futile, this is Katsuki Bakugo we’re talking about, the 5th ranking pro hero that’s known for being a key strategist on the battlefield.

His fingers tighten against the steering wheel, all alarms going off in his head.

“What happened? Tell me.”

“It's nothing—“

The blondes jaw clenches, sharp crimson eyes peeking at your location once again, huffing with increasing annoyance. 

“Don’t lie to me dumbass, I can see you walking when I specifically told you to stay put. Plus I heard the way yur' breathing spiked up, anyone ever told you — you’re a horrible liar?”

You sigh with defeat, now standing in front of a local convenience store, anxiously looking around to make sure the guy didn’t follow close behind.

“Well… a guy was staring really hard from his car a few seconds ago, so I moved spots, but I don’t think he’s following me. He just wouldn’t look away ya' know?”

He mumbles incoherent curses through the phone, already stepping on the gas pedal with shimmering rage, his muscles tensing up at the nervous tone you horribly try to hide. 

"Did the bastard say anything to you?"

Your silence was all he needed.

He uses one hand to swiftly maneuver through the passing cars, moving from one lane to the next, accelerating as best as he could without causing danger to those around.

This would surely be in the media tomorrow, breaking news and headlines — Number 5, Pro Hero Dynamight causing mayhem on the freeway — the controversy will probably drop him a rank or two, but he didn't give a damn.

Not when an asshole is making you feel troubled.

“Go inside the store and if you see him approaching then tell the cashier okay? Just wait a little longer, don’t fucking hang up ya' hear?”

“Alright…”

You quickly make your way inside, aimlessly roaming the aisles of bagged chips and colorful candy wrappers, trying to take your mind off the whole incident.

And much to your disbelief, Katsuki makes it there in under 5 minutes, the time so absurd that you’re almost positive he drove past a few red lights at full speed, as if he’ll ever admit to that to you though. 

Instant relief floods your veins as you see him rush through the automatic doors, his chest slightly heaving — as if he ran straight out of his car — eyes snapping around each part of the relatively empty store for his gaze to eventually land on your figure.  

And he’s at your side before you could even blink.

His arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, making sure you’re unharmed and safely tucked against him.

While his other hand cups your cheek, the blonde's voice having a softer yet gruff undertone to it. 

“You okay, baby?”

You absolutely melt in his embrace.

Nuzzling into his palm, smiling up at him as your heart stammers with newfound affection, he almost never uses nicknames, or even is this touchy in public — yet he seems to have forgotten all about that in this very moment. 

“Mhm, 'm sorry I made you worry.”

He shakes his head, keeping his arm around your waist as he leads you outside, where his sleek black car is parked in all its glory. 

“I said to stop apologizing woman, and remind me to get you pepper spray when we get home, fucking creeps all over the damn city…”

You smile, standing on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, unable to resist showing your savior some love. 

“Thank you for saving me Dynamight~”

He tenses up, clearly caught off guard, his cheeks flushing in a soft pink as he hesitantly opens the passenger door for you, taking the bags and avoiding your gaze entirely — he’s so cute. 

Such a rough exterior with a heart of a kitten; the blonde clears his throat. 

“Just get in already, stupid… and it's Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, say it right!"

"Oh my god Kats—"

You burst out in laughter, already hopping inside as he shuts the door behind you, moving to place the bags in the back seat.

And although he may not realize, you can see it through the side mirrors, a small smile on his face as he shuts the back door. 

Of course, you made sure to show him extra love when you two got home, cuddling up to him on the couch as you two snacked on their takeout, the man attempting to act aloof but his gentle eyes said another thing.

That protecting your smile was always his main priority, even over the world.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| hi my beautiful flowers! i hope u liked this fic of me gushing over driver bkg — the fact that he could drive is EXTREMELY attractive, i just know he uses one hand on the wheel hehe... now time for me to go, plus ultra! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[miaoua3]

hii ! could you do a jeonghan drabble where like hes cuddling reader and soothing her period cramps away ? also could u make it 600 words+ (if u can!!) becus i LOVE jeonghan fluff and i only can find those short ones ☹️ thank you !

hii! ofc i can do it, i just don’t know if i can make it 600+ words as that is quite long and i have 20+ requests in my inbox atm😭 still, i hope that you like it!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(pairing: bf! jeonghan x f! reader)

warning: mentions of cramps and blood

you twist your whole body until your face ends up buried inside your pillow, eyebrows furrowed as you try to brave for another wave of pain and cramps.

you really hated surprises, especially when it’s a surprise period that we are talking about. you weren’t supposed to get it for another few days, usually somewhat on time. to say that you were completely unprepared for this is an understatement.

the cramps are so bad this time, you can’t honestly remember the last time they were this bad. unfortunately for you, the medicine doesn’t seem to be kicking in for some reason, leave you at mercy of the strong pain in your tummy.

you hold onto your tummy strongly, pushing your hands into your skin as you moan and groan in pain. you peak with one eye at the bloody sheets that you only had the strength to peel them off and throw them onto the floor, mentally making a note to put them to wash later, once your cramps stop feeling as if you are getting stabbed.

it is at moments like this you wish your boyfriend had a more flexible job, just so you could call him and ask him to come home.

almost like a prayer getting answered, you hear the front door unlocking, opening and closing, before you hear hannie’s sweet voice calling for you.

“angel? are you there? i’m home!”

you groan as you weakly call out “in the bedroom”.

in the matter of seconds, hannie appears, his joyful mood immediately souring at your state, cooing in empathy.

“oh baby why didn’t you say anything? i would’ve been home much earlier had i known that you got your period.”, he slowly approaches you before he sits down beside you, pushing the messy and frizzy hair out of your face as he looks at you with sad eyes.

you close your eyes as another wave of pain and nausea hits you, before you answer him through gritted teeth “didn’t want to bother you…plus you are here earlier either way so..”

jeonghan frowns at your words for a second before he bends down to kiss your temple, softly mumbling against your warm skin “you are never a bother to me, baby. next time, whatever the case-if you need me, call me.”

from there on, you completely shut your brain off, because jeonghan takes over and does everything he can think of to help you relax. takes a shower with you where he makes sure that the water is hot enough that it burns his skin off but he ignores the pain because he can see that it helps you with your pain. changes the sheets and puts the bloody ones into the washing machine. boils the water for the hot water bottle for you to hold onto.

and lastly, he gets into bed with you, his strong chest pressed deeply into your back as he hugs you from behind.

it seems that the painkiller finally started to kick in, or maybe your boyfriend has a magic touch, because the moment he stuck his hand under your shirt and started to softly massage and rub your tummy, your cramps started to get better, finally allowing you to relax and enjoy your boyfriends presence.

you close your eyes as you enjoy the series of kisses jeonghan softly presses into the nape of your neck, his lips taking time as he presses them into your skin. although you can feel how they are a bit scratchy, probably due to him biting them from all the stress he had to endure during the day, you just ignore the feeling and just…let his presence calm yours down.

his big and strong hand on your tummy continues to rub slow circles on it, the warm water bottle completely abandoned by you in the name of feeling the warmth jeonghan provides to you. his other hand (the one you are laying on) is intertwined with one of yours, thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand.

you two don’t speak, whatever show playing on your tv providing the only sounds within the four walls of your shared bedroom.

you feel yourself slowly drifting off to dreamland, but before you can fully succumb to the sweet dreams, jeonghan presses one soft kiss onto your cheek, waking you up immediately upon feeling the touch on your skin.

his tired yet soft voice gently asks you “feeling better, my angel?”

you only have it in yourself to nod and whisper a small ‘thank you’ before you feel your eyes slowly close again, all on their own.

as you drift away, almost pain free and completely comfortable in your lover’s embrace, you hear his voice softly say

“nothing to thank me for. anything for you, baby. anything for you.”

[a-most-beloved-fool]

Tell us more about your hate for Dr. Mora...?

Yes!

The thing with Dr. Mora is that the people who wrote him weren't actually properly aware of what they were writing. What they intended to write was a nuanced father-figure who gets to reconcile with his formerly no-contact son. What they actually wrote was... a bit different.

I've talked about him on here before, so I'm going to go ahead and link that post here, because I think there was good discussion (and it's a bit shorter), but if you want the long answer, it's below the cut!

From even before Mora's first appearance in The Alternate, we know that Odo feels a great deal of resentment towards him as a direct result of how Odo was treated when he was in Dr. Mora's lab. He is mentioned more than once before he ever appears on screen, and always in negative or neutral ways (such as Odo speaking about the 'Cardassian neck trick' that he clearly didn't enjoy performing).

When he does first arrive on station, Odo is very obviously uncomfortable with him. He does not want to spend time with Mora - in fact, he explicitly states that he does not see Mora as a father-figure, and that he does not trust him.

Now, the plot of this episode features a gas which caused Odo, when in his rest-cycle, to unknowingly turn into a seemingly-mindless monstrous creature. Seemingly mindless, I say, because the creature does have enough of a mind to remember his resentment of Mora and repeatedly target him. I, personally, am of the opinion that That Level of resentment does not come from nothing and can't be easily dismissed.

During this episode, Mora is the first to realize that the creature is Odo. He pulls Odo aside and informs him of this. I'm just going to leave a section of the episode summary from Memory Alpha here, because I think it says it better than I can:

Odo proposes that the gas from the planet they were on affected him somehow, but Dr. Mora suggests Odo may have been responsible for unsolved crimes in the past. He then says that now that they know the truth, none of the station staff will trust Odo, and advises Odo to return to the scientific center with him, stating he has experience with Odo.

To me, that reads as a wildly abusive interaction. That is Mora trying to manipulate Odo by distancing him from his friends and casting doubts on Odo's ability to do his job (which Odo takes great pride and comfort in). He takes the two things most important to Odo - his connection to his coworkers, and his career, and dismisses both of them as false, somehow. It's deliberate, and it's cruel. The phrase, "he has experience with Odo," especially gets on my nerves. That is not a wording that would be used by a man who sees Odo as his son or as a sentient being. That's how you talk about a feral animal or a science experiment. Frankly, I think Mora does see Odo as a science experiment. He's curious about Odo's interests only to the point that he thinks it's curious that Odo can have any interests or preferences at all. He doesn't actually respect Odo as a person - he only sees him as something to study.

There's a very small amount of conversation between them at the very end of the episode where Mora says that he never knew how Odo felt about their time at the lab, and Odo agrees to let Mora be a small part of his life going forward, which is supposed to be a start down the road to reconciliation, but it doesn't feel earned. It's cheap and, honestly, a little insulting.

Already, I do not like this man, but the episode The Begotten is where things really go downhill. This episode is supposed to show a proper reconciliation between Odo and Mora. It tries to iron out all of the resentment that Odo still holds about how he was treated at the lab.

It fails, utterly.

This episode starts when Quark acquires an ill changeling infant. Odo is the one to recognize the changeling for what it is, and takes it upon himself to try to teach the changeling about the world and how to shapeshift - made more difficult by the fact that Odo is still stuck in his Humanoid form.

Sisko suggests that Odo get the help of Dr. Mora, citing the fact that Mora had worked with a baby changeling before. Odo flatly refuses. Mora shows up anyways, entirely uninvited, and Odo does not want Mora anywhere near the infant - and certainly not without supervision. We know that Mora's methods for 'training' Odo involved pain and discomfort, and Odo is opposed to allowing the same methods to be used on the infant. He wants to take his time, and let the infant grow and learn at its own pace. But the changeling is slow to learn, and Starfleet is impatient, and, eventually, Odo is coerced into using pain to force the infant to change its shape. This works, and both Odo and Mora are delighted. Both acknowledge the utility of the other's method - Mora says that Odo was correct to build a connection with the infant, because it clearly likes him, while Odo says that the pain was also necessary.

This is supposed to be read as a good thing. The use of electricity and other pain-inducing methods is, I believe, supposed to be read as a 'necessary evil' - like requiring a child to eat their greens or take a bath when they don't want to. It claims that Dr. Mora just wanted what was best for Odo, and that he loves Odo. It even goes so far as to imply that Odo is being cruel to Mora, by keeping him at a distance and not forgiving him for the past.

In my opinion, that is an absolute load of hogwash. What I see is not a parent who tried their hardest but was flawed. I see a man who tortured a child, and now refuses to understand why the child may resent that. Part of the issue is just that it's a really shitty analogy. There is no world in which tossing a child into a Pain Machine is the same as requiring a child to comply with a set bedtime. It's abuse, straight up. I cannot see that as anything other than Mora deliberately causing actual pain to a literal infant. Frankly I do not care that it "got a result"

Now, it's true that, with Odo, Mora did not initially know he was working with a sentient being. But firstly, that excuse doesn't apply to the new changeling child, and secondly, he never once truly apologizes. Throughout, he maintains that what he did was justified because it got results. Even when he acknowledges that Odo's method of building a connection with the child helped, he still believes that the pain he caused was necessary, and that Odo's resentment of him is nothing more than an overreaction.

The episode seems to agree with him. The episode, in fact, seems to think that Odo should be the one apologizing to Mora for not forgiving him sooner! Everything we've seen of how Odo interacts with Mora suggests that Odo was traumatized by him (and I do mean literally traumatized, not just the way the word is now used in pop-culture), and somehow the episode appears more concerned with the fact that Mora is hurt that he's not allowed a place in Odo's life. Odo's discomfort around Mora and around letting Mora near the child is seen as irrational.

Mora never actually acknowledges faults in how he treated Odo. He apologizes that Odo felt hurt, but never actually accepts that he caused it, and when pressed, deflects blame onto the Cardassians and deadlines. This is mirrored in the episode by Starfleet and Sisko giving Odo deadlines re: the infant's development. Odo only turns to using pain on the child because he's running out of time - and then he does use pain, and the infant responds, and Odo decides that Using Pain On Children Is Good. This was written as a spot for Odo to relate to what Mora went through and to sympathize with him, with understanding paving the road for reconciliation, but it just. it pisses me off. This is just the fucking cycle of violence, illustrated in full-color.

(I also disagree with how they wrote Sisko in the episode, tbh. That man adores babies. You cannot convince me that he could hear the word "baby" and not immediately do everything in his power to protect the changeling baby from Starfleet pressure. Like, c'mon.)

So, while the episode sees a 'reconciliation', I see a man who was abused by his father-figure slowly get coerced into using the exact same methods, and then decide that they were correct and justified after all. It reads like a horror story, to me. The message seems to be, "you should forgive your abusers if they're your parent," with a side of, "corporeal punishment is fine and often good, actually," and a little dash of, "it's cruel to go no-contact with your parent, because you owe them for raising you. it doesn't matter what they did to earn that treatment - you're overreacting."

Obviously, I don't believe this is what the writers tried to write. But it sure is what it looks like to me! And I know that I'm not the only one who reads the episode this way.

To be clear, I don't hate Mora because I think he's an abusive 'father' - though I do, certainly, think that - I hate Mora because the writers were entirely unwilling to acknowledge that he's abusive in any real capacity. They wrote an abuser who was actively abusing, on screen, and pretended he was just a normal loving father who screwed up a little, and who didn't deserve how poorly he was being treated. They could have done fantastic things with him! Instead they blindly wrote... that.

[innovator-of-the-future]

Indeed, Jayce knew more; he knew their future and what delving into Hextech would lead to. He vividly remembered Viktor’s illness and the consequences that followed. Of course, it was supposed to happen many years from now, but Jayce was deeply concerned about it. He knew the verdict would negatively affect Viktor, who would start searching for ways to prolong his life. He knew that one day Viktor would be gone, and he didn’t want to let that happen. He wanted to keep Viktor by his side and… he didn’t know what to do next. He was, in a way, surprised himself to find himself in this place, in this world. Perhaps this was the sign to try and change something? He didn’t know the answer to that question.

He glanced at his brace, moving it after a moment. The leg indeed felt less strained and functioned well. He beamed a radiant smile at his companion and replied directly.

-Of course it works. You’re a genius, after all. He admitted honestly, glancing at his friend. At Viktor’s question, he fell into deep thought for a long moment.

-First, I’ll work here for a while - with Hextech. It’s what brought me here, in a way. I need to understand certain things. At the same time, I’ll find a job, since no one will recognize me with this beard anyway. And… I’d like to join you in your research. I’ll be able to do that all the time, since the Council hasn’t chosen me yet in these times, I think. I’m not sure. @hexheralding

Time Travel AU : jayvik.

Jayce had always been the kind of person who was simply hardworking and gave his all to make the place he found himself in the best it could be. He was slowly getting used to the Sanctuary, which had also become his home. He had finally decided to stay here with his beloved - and not for a single moment had he regretted that decision. Viktor's closeness fulfilled him in every possible way and made him long for things to stay exactly as they were.

Jayce stood beside Viktor in his Sanctuary, helping him with daily tasks. As always, he gave his full effort, focused entirely on what he was doing. But suddenly, the world darkened, and the air grew heavy. Behind them stood a man - tall and familiar, but clearly exhausted. And yet, his eyes burned with the same fire Jayce had seen in his youth.

-You should be… right here right now. The man said quietly. And before Jayce could respond, the stranger raised his hand. Something happened.

Jayce fell to his knees… but not in the Sanctuary. Everything surrounding him was different. From behind a door came a voice

-Jayce? Ready for testing?

He knew that voice all too well. It was Viktor.

And yet, everything around him felt… different. It was…

He didn’t know how it had happened, but as he looked through himself and saw his old laboratory, he had to make sense of the absurdity he was now trapped in. He opened the door, fully aware of what he would see. And then he saw his eyes -the ones he had once gotten lost in completely.

He stood there in silence for a long moment, fully aware of Viktor’s likely reaction. After all… Jayce hadn’t worn a beard back then. And now, he did. He looked different. The brace on his leg also told a story - of changes and burdens he now carried.

-I… I’m supposed to be here. He said suddenly, still locked in his gaze with his friend. @hexheralding

[vigilvntes]

anyway i have been thinking about how much i want adrian to fuck me (this would fix me i know it would) but like specifically i really want to make out with him. i wanna feel his whole tongue in my mouth while he holds me (cause im horny but also i a softie dammnit).

i get the vibe that he hooks up regularly as vigilante so hes experienced in bed more than people would think, but since he keeps the mask on he doesnt kiss much. but when hes close enough with someone he can take off? with be ALL over you with his mouth. will be kissing you nonstop.

OKAYYYY FUCKBOY VIG AND TOUCH STARVED ADRIAN I SEE THE VISION

but yes i definitely agree that he's a dark horse when it comes down to it. i mean maybe im delusional maybe im fucked in the head but you can't convince me that absolutely no one in that town has fucked around with vig because let me tell you i would be FIRST IN LINE!!! he's been running around for years, and it seems that at this point people have just kinda made peace with him being there?? so no doubt he has hookups like he's charming and confident when he's in the suit and we see that a lot in the show. so yes. he probably fucks a lot as vig.

but adrian???? out of the suit???? touch starved. it's all well and good when there's a barrier between him and whoever he's sleeping with (literally), but warm fingertips brushing his hair from his face??? clinging on to his bare back while he fucks you??? soft, breathless kisses while the two of you moan into each others mouths???? he's a sucker for it. all the hookups in the world, all the people that throw themselves at him after he saves them from being mugged will never, ever compare to just being himself, just being adrian, around someone who accepts him for who he is and what he does and someone he trusts enough to keep that secret.

as soon as he comes home he'd rip the mask straight off and his lips would be straight on yours. doesn't matter if he's had a good night or a bad night, touching you, kissing you, his tongue in your mouth and the little surprised noise you make when he bites down on your bottom lip is enough to make him feel like he's on cloud nine. he'd kiss you until you literally can't breathe, and if you pulled away from him to catch your breath the most pathetic whine would leave his throat and he'd turn his attention to your neck instead. the whole time he's inside of you, his lips are on yours. missionary?? he's kissing you until your lips are blue. from behind?? he's leaning over, grabbing your chin and making you turn your head so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

and his affinity for kisses doesn't just apply to sex!!!! he'll wrap his arms around your waist when the two of you are cooking dinner just to plant the sloppiest, wettest kisses on your cheek just so you'll giggle and playfully slap him away. before you leave the apartment you have to swipe the AKM (adrian kissing machine). he'll probably get moody if he doesn't get a kiss in the morning.

if you're both feeling nasty he'll spit in your mouth, or he'll let you spit in his mouth. he probably prefers the latter.

🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

[iamthepulta]

i did it u_u

[selfless1978]

Vicky shook her head in amusement. How did she have so much energy?

Her pace was a bit more dignified as she followed her friends. Though she did look around. It was nice, she supposed. If a bit fancy for her liking.

The tall woman knew that Jessica wouldn't let up on the pool thing, so Vicky changed once she got to her room into her blue one piece. Then, after grabbing a towel, she stopped a moment to look in the mirror.

And sighed.

Why her? She couldn't help but wonder. Why? She wasn't beautiful by any standard. Ordinary, but no big beauty prize. Her hair was long, deep brown and thick. But it had nothing to make it look alive, glowy, or whatever phrase they used to describe not limp hair. She was tall, but not exactly slender. Her bone structure far from petite. The prettiest thing about her were her eyes, but they had even lost their shine. She just couldn't understand it. Why her?

Memories came to the surface. Memories she struggled to get back under control. Some old, some newer. None welcome. She fought hard to keep her composure, but when something eats at you for so long.... weeks, months......years.....you were bound to break.

"Vicky!"

She spun around in shock just as a hand pulled on her shoulder. Obviously, this wasn't the first time her name had been called.

The man in her room was familiar. She had met him before. In the defac.... What was he doing here? She stared blankly at him.

"Are you alright?"

"How did you get in here?!"

The man huffed, and it suddenly clicked. She knew that annoyed sound.

"Ironhide?"

"You weren't answering your door. Not responding to calls or knocks. So they came and got me." His expression softened a bit. "Not really how I wanted you to find out this was me. Now, are you alright?"

She couldn't even be mad. He was her guardian afterall. "As good as I'm going to be." She answered honestly.

"Maybe you should stay here and rest." He frowned.

"It won't do any good." Vicky sighed. "I'll be ok."

He didn't say anything, but did step aside so she could go open the door, and found a worried Jessica and Aon.

"Sorry." Vicky apologized. "I guess I zoned out a bit. I blame jetlag." She offered with a smile.

@infuriatedleprechaun

CURIOSITY ALMOST KILLED THE SQUISHIES

Vicky slowly raised a brow at Jessica. If Vicky hadn't been so jaded and reclusive, these two could have been twins.

"And you tell me not to get killed by him." Vicky muttered.

@infuriatedleprechaun

[searchingforserendipity25]

For the Silm Phrase Prompts, any character(a) + Ossiriand + without wish or purpose?

Thank you @polutrope! It took a while but it's here. A more whimsical approach to one of the most heartbreaking line about Túrin, now with Finrod and his problematic cousins on their famous road trip. 

-

Tourist Traps 

Finrod rose, tottering a little on his feet, and grasped a helpful bough with one hand.

“No, hearken to me. There is no danger of us being eaten, therefore we should go. We are, indeed, obligated to go on. For are we not hunters, we are scholars, and, most of all, we are princes of the Noldor. We are, seekers and inquirers of every wonder in the great kingdoms of Beleriand -” 

“Speak for yourself. The flesh-eating begonia was enough. If I wanted to chat with deceitful creatures set on dominating my spirit and eating the remains, I would have stayed at home and hosted the dragons, or invited my brothers for a visit.”

Maedhros did not need to open his eyes to tug at his brother’s plait. 

“I did not wish to use the Ice as such petty leverage,” Finrod said. “But.” 

“But,” Maedhros said, not bothering with inflections, nor to open his eyelashes from his doze.

Maglor at least had the grace to stop braiding his damp hair to look at him with a vaguely solemn look. He had drunk too much cider for it to be very convincing - like Curvu and their esteemed father, he went terribly pink all around the ears after three glasses - but he did try. 

Finrod lifted his nose. “I am surprised at you, cousin. The journey was your notion. It is a diplomac endeavour. We are on a hunting trip, as is the way of noble princes, and restablishing ties of kinship, and the like.”

“Methinks Finrod has had enough reestablishment,” commented Maglor slyly. That could not be blamed on the drink. “With us, at least. Really we are very easy and steady people, and very boring; it has to be the poisonous flowers for Felagund to enjoy his holidays, and nothing else will do.” 

“This orchid is not said to be malicious,” Finrod says, coaxingly. “It merely makes forceful osanwë contact on very rare occasions, by all accounts.” 

“I am not following you into the maw of a ravenous plant because of remorse,” Maglor told Finrod, very seriously. “You get a sorrowful song about it, and you have already said you do not want the song.”

“No one wants the song,” Finrod reiterated with feeling. Turukáno had been very clear about that. 

“And that is fair! But it does not mean I am willing to abase myself merely to please you, or please myself into feeling better about past errors; therefore, I am regretful, Ingoldo, but not enough for ravenous plants. I do not think this is unreasonable.” 

“Children, please,” Maedhros said, from somewhere underneath his impressive straw hat. “You are both too bony and, frankly, stringy to an unappetizing degree. No self-respecting flora, or fauna, or uruk would take a bite out of you.” 

“See,” Finrod said, quite pleased. Maedhros’ say-so was powerful leverage, among the grandchildren of Finwë; it was said to have a powerful effect even upon king Fingolfin. “Maedhros is an expert in his field, and he agrees with me.”

 Maglor wrinkled his nose, in very much the same way he always did when Maedhros agreed with someone that was not him. 

“Besides all else,” Maedhros added. “The Laiquendi have given us leave on condition of our best conduct, and we all known Finrod’s naturalist efforts do not always mind such things as local legislature.” 

Finrod splashed his feet in the water, just at the right angle to dampen Maglor’s hems. “Bah. Spoilsport. The two of you!“

“Cowards,” Maedhros said dryly. “Dreadful faint hearts, truly.”

Maglor tied off his hair and bend down with the wooden comb to start brushing his brother’s, not without tugging at him in retaliation.

“Poor Felagund, stuck in such wretched company. I am most sorry, of course; your quest is high-hearted, but there is nought in this world that would urge me to go into the mazes of caves under the wood for the pleasure of inquiring into the mind of a sentient plant.”

“Nought,” Maedhros agreed, in a tone that was like the closing of a door.  

There was silence, for a little time, such as there was ever silence in the sweet green light of the glen. A dragonfly wove its way between the reeds; the wild doves spoke earnestly at each other above their eyes. 

Maedhros deigned at last to turn his head and open one eye of burning white. “Shall you go alone, if we do not follow?”

“Oh, very likely,” said Finrod, quite unembarrassed.  “Tis a patrolled land, safe as much as any in Beleriand, and safer than most.” 

The trick of getting his cousin to do anything, Finrod knew, and Maglor knew, and Fingon knew, was to be cheerfully self-interested, and tug him along into his own enjoyment. The fact that Maedhros tended to know when it was happening did not make it any less effective. 

They did, of course, go with him. 

-

Finrod, he felt, could be excused some complacent smugness; for all things had gone quite as well as he had contrived them to be. Art, lore, and culinary pleasure: half-way through a long trek down the talan road and the charming road by the high canopies, he started entertained the notion of writing a little travel guide when he returned to Nargothrond, for truly there was a great deal to be said of the beauty of Ossiriand, and all that one might do and see in it.

 It was a hunting journey, even, in the sense that they had followed both orc tracks and harts on the way to the forest, before entering it properly. 

The peace the Green-elves kept was quite perfect, however, and the herds of deer were only to be hunted a few scant times a year; for they were friends of the trees and friends of the beasts, the singers of the forest, and even their diet was mostly of those untended plants and fruits that grew in plenty out in the wild, carefully stewarded over long, long years. 

They had pledged solemnly to respect the peace of the Green-elves, and even mostly done it - Maedhros had a talent for interrupting whenever Finrod’s inquiries and interviews on the lore of the Avari grew wearisome, and as Maglor would as much talk to the streams as those who kept them clear, he fit in quite well with the people of Ossiriand. 

Dutifully - his itinerary notes, Finrod had noted, were quite strictly planned and unpleaseantly reminiscent to his maps of war - his cousin had lead them from sight-seeing landmark to landmark: Tatië’s Parlour, the beautiful caves with remarkable drawings left behind during the Journey, and the the great salmon-leaping competition down the Legolin and the great singing circles of celebration afterwards, and even, at Finrod’s insistence, timed their trip to coincide with the famous Laiquendi Bicentennial Berry Tour. 

 (Fifty different kinds of blackberries in a single biosphere was really quite remarkable. Finrod had a number of interesting conversations with the bush-stewards all throughout, while Maedhros stood tall and grim beside him, with his pale mouth juice-stained and his great arms holding a growing number of baskets whenever Maglor came back from his mercenary wanderings from stall to stall.) 

 He was very thorough, Maedhros, enough to become a little more at ease: and when all dramatic waterfalls and interesting ancient trees were met, he went about the high grass and the wildflowers with the fierce determination of an elf looking for optimal levels of sun-dappled sunshine and healthful photosynthesis. At which point, when it was found, he laid down his very, very long self, arranged his hair charmingly about himself, and fell asleep into a stillness greater than the stillness of the boulders by the water. 

Maglor liked to complain, and to make his yielding cost a great deal to everyone involved if it could be arranged, but he had been the one to connive with Finrod to decide upon the times and the places of their escape.

Between his cunning references and Finrod’s insistent offers, they had gained a slow victory in the long work of convincing Maedhros that Himring would not be attacked by surprise or fall into rubble if her lord went to the forest for his health for a year only, not even that long.

 It had been a great effort top prepare for such a journey. It was only afterwards, when they rode idly under the green leaves of Ossiriand, that they came to find all the planned excursions paled before the plain pleasure of swimming in the clear rivers and fishing trout to eat when hungry, with no hurry and no duties to attend. For a time it was a little like a return to the Noontide, when all was joy, at least never so great a trouble a journey through Aman could no diminish out of sight. 

Finrod had known the peace of green Ossiriand would do Maedhros good, and it did. Maedhros, who had little chance for warmth in Himring, shed his furs only when it proved untenable, and went about the endeavor of enjoying himself with a steady vigilance that was more unnerving for being so constant. 

It was not an arrangement without self-interest, and Finrod was not sorry to admit it. He had so long wished for such a journey, and set about elaborating all his collecting of stories and specimens with care. 

And he suspected Maglor had only been half-jesting, when he wrote saying he was to be exiled for the year out of command; he became ever more impossible to bear, the less time he had for his art; a little time to retreat from the Gap was a considerable benefit to all his loyal riders.

After the first fortnight of discourses and re-acquaintance, and all the great events and views had been sharply scratched out of the list, Maglor had gained a distracted look in his eyes, and started giving the strong impression he would far rather be left to his devices and his harp for a short eternity, without having to speak to anyone, and be perfectly content in this way. 

Finrod enjoyed the opportunity for collaborations, when they came; but this was not that. Mostly they laid about in the shade drinking cider and eating a dozen variety of nuts, hunting for the best place riverside rock to sun-bath on.

It was not, it had to be said, particularly exciting stuff. Finrod started to grow a little mad by the second fortnight of peaceable, thorough journeying - there was, after all, so much wisdom found only in the hidden wonders of the wild, and his own list of places that must absolutely be perused at length.

 In all fairness, the orchid did blossom fully into mind-contact very rarely. It made its displeasure known in more straightforwardly most of the time. There was, perhaps, a reason why the land around it was kept so secure.

(And then Maglor put his foot down and decided he really did need to finish his composition, and bullied Maedhros’ into taking an appointment in the hot springs while he was occupied, quite well-deserved after he was through with the grueling work of explaining matters to the local ranging authorities; and Finrod did go on alone, in the end.

Singing as he went, he sought beauty with no aim but to seek it, well-inclined to find a new marvel under every canopy, finding it indeed in the least expected of guises - thought his cousins never did cease to tease him for his hankering for strange specimens, begonias and orchids and slumbering Aftercomers all.)

[to-the-batcomputer]

something about the medium of comics... the stories just do not stay in my head

[kindahoping4forever]

I miss your fics. I hope you’re doing well tho

I appreciate this, thank you 🥹

For the record, I miss my fics too! This unofficial hiatus has been out of necessity rather than choice, and I can honestly say there hasn't been a day where I don't fantasize about A Grand Return. 💙

[luke-shywalker]

let me know if you need anything

“Hey, Solo!”

Ben looked up. The sudden motion triggered a dull ache in his right eye—he winced.

“Uh—sorry.” Amalia came to a halt in front of him in the grass. The tall, bulky Togruta girl always looked like she was going to barrel right into you, but always managed to stop a few inches short. Back when they’d hated each other, Ben had thought this was some kind of intimidation tactic. But now that they were something like friends, he realized that she was just…well…awkward as heck.

Amalia peered at him and at his covered eye, then tapped her own cheek. “You look like one of the deep space pirates.”

“Wow,” said Ben, deadpan. “I’ve only heard that about five hundred times since I came back to Jedi school.”

“What’d they do to you, huh?”

Ben juggled the air with his hands, trying to figure out how much detail to go into. “Uh…they cut my eyeball open, and sewed a synthetic band into it to hold it together and make it stop falling apart. Basically.”

“Whoa. Sounds gnarly, dude.” Amalia paused. “…Can I see?”

Ben laughed. “Bro. Do you want to see?”

“I mean? Kinda? Will you like, die if it’s exposed to air?”

“Listen, I’ll show you, if you want to freaking see so bad.” He lifted the patch. He had to manually pry his eyelids apart—they were still swollen. He closed his left eye, just to see how well he could see her—everything was sort of a bright, slanted blur.

Amalia made a face. “Ew. It’s all red. Is that blood? Nasty. I see a coagulated mass of—something. There is straight-up slime in your eye, dude.”

Ben put the patch back on. “Yeah—I’ve been trying to, like—cry it out, but I can’t think of anything sad enough to make me cry. I dunno. I’ve had a hard time feeling emotion lately, in general.”

He said it, and then realized he hadn’t wanted to say it. He backtracked as quickly as he could.

“But now that you’re here, Mal, all I gotta do is look at your ugly mug,” he quipped.

Amalia rolled her eyes so hard she pretty much just rolled her whole head. “Hardee har har. Have you looked in a mirror? Geez, Solo, you can’t say shit like that to girls.”

“Oh—you’re a girl? Oh my Force, I didn’t realize. Sorry, miss.”

She wound up and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Ow! Bruh. I’m already injured.”

“Well, you weren’t injured enough,” Amalia huffed. “Fixed it for you.”

“I’m telling Uncle Luke.”

“Yeah, go run and tell your Uncle Luke. Pissbaby.”

Ben tried to think of something clever to retort, but then his eye started hurting again, and he felt kind of sick. He hissed and lowered himself down into the grass, which seemed to initiate a truce.

Amalia leaned down. “You okay, bro?”

“Yeah—fine.”

“Are you still allowed to train and stuff?”

“I’m not supposed to do any ‘strenuous activity’ for four weeks.”

“Well, you were never getting any, anyway,” Amalia snickered. “Now you just have an excuse.”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Ew. No, I mean…”

“Does lifting rocks with the Force count as strenuous activity? You’re not technically lifting them physically.”

“Eh. I always give myself headaches when I do that normally, anyway, so…maybe just littler rocks.”

“When are you gonna be able to see again?”

“Out of this eye?”

“Yeah, well, which eye do you think I’m kriffin’ talking about, dumbass—“

“I don’t know.”

“…Damn.” Amalia sat down next to him. “Sucks.”

“Yeah, I mean…I know it’s gonna be months. Maybe a year. And I don’t even know if it’ll ever be the same. Probably not.”

Amalia twitched her lips to one side. “Does it bother you?”

“Like, what, the pain? Or…”

“No, like…losing your vision. Like, coping with the loss.”

Ben shrugged. “…I dunno. Sure ain’t the biggest thing I’ve lost. It’s hard, I guess, knowing you’ll never be the same, but…I was already never gonna be the same, so…” He trailed off.

Amalia nodded at the horizon, picking a blade of grass apart with her fingers. “Yeah…I get how that is.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments. A low breeze came and rustled the grass.

“…Maybe I’ll gain some kind of extra Force sensitivity,” Ben said hopefully. “To compensate. Or something.”

“Yeah,” said Amalia. “Or…maybe you won’t, and you’ll just be half-blind.”

Ben threw her a tired glance. “Thanks, Mal. You’re a real pal.”

“What can I say? I try to offer a realistic outlook on life.”

“Hm.”

“But, for real though…let me know if you need anything. Okay, Solo?”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Another punch in the arm?”

“Well, yeah, if you need that, I’m your girl. But, uh, seriously. Like if you need to talk, or…” She gestured vaguely at nothing.

“No offense, Mal? But you are not great at talking.”

“Hey. Never said I was. Just said that I would. Or if you wanna, like, just go throw rocks in the pond together, or something. Go look for weird bugs. Climb that cliffside Luke said not to climb. You know?”

Ben smirked. “Ha. Okay. Yeah. Gotcha. And then I’ll bang my head real hard, and knock out my other eye.”

“Exactly. You get me.” Amalia stood up and dusted the grass off her tunic. “Well…I’m on kitchen prep with Fannie and Meliko tonight, so…guess I gotta go. Do an extra meditation for me, will ya? Fannie drives me nuts.”

“Really? She’s so nice.”

“Yeah,” Amalia scoffed. “That’s what drives me nuts.”

Ben snorted. “Well, okay, Mal. See ya at dinner, then, I guess.”

“Will you see me though?”

“Dude, shut up!”

[empresskylo]

ghost knows he’s too rough and impatient with sex. knows he won’t know how to please you properly. knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve never done this before. but god, he wants to. he wants to treat you how you deserve. never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and slow like he does with you.

so he goes to price. the one man who will know all the right ways to please a lady properly. asks him to show him how to take care of you. tells him he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone inexperienced like you. tells him he needs to be instructed. to see just how he should work you.

you’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an absolutely insane idea, but you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on ghost’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread, his knuckle dragging down your warmth. price sits back in his chair, telling ghost exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when ghost moves a certain way, or your eyelashes fluttering.

and this was supposed to be a strictly hands-off approach… but god, watching ghost fumble, unable to maintain the slow speed you need, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, has price on edge. he leans forward, rolling his chair with him, and tells ghost to stop. tells him to watch and to pay close attention. price tears your panties off and your eyes go wide at the contact. you swallow, expecting ghost to be furious, but his hands only settle around you and he takes notes as he watches his captain work.

price runs his thumb up your slit, circling your nub, and tells ghost to hold your thighs apart when you unconsciously try to clench them. then his finger is sinking into you and your head falls back against ghost's chest, eyes shut. you moan and you feel ghost harden beneath you. “how’s that feel, sweetheart?” price asks you. you babble out incoherently, price adding a second finger, and chuckling darkly at your response.

it becomes too much, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand rubbing your clit, ghost's fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart. “ohmygod,” you slur, “m’gonna—“ price smirks, his eyes darkening as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. "talk her through it," price tells ghost. so ghost does. you're shaking still and ghost rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "that's it, baby. you're doin' s'good," he praises.

"whata fuckin' sight," price mumbles to himself, his fingers leaving you empty. you steady your breathing, coming down from your high, completely limp in ghost's arms. price can see the way ghost's eyes have gone dark, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. knows ghost doesn't know how to be soft. sees the feral need to ram himself into you overtaking his features. "gonna take it slow with her, yeah?" price asks.

ghost breathes rapidly out, his hips begging to buck up against you. he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself if you let him fuck you. so he answers honestly. "not sure I'd be able to."

price tsks, sitting back in thought, his eyes roving over your spent body. you suddenly feel shy, wanting to close your legs, but ghost's arms tighten on you. "need me t'break her in?" price finally asks after several long beats of silence.

ghost grinds up against you, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. your eyes flutter at his attempts to be so delicate with you. "want the captain here to be your first time, love?" ghost asks against your skin. you stutter when you answer. "don't you want to be?" "course I do. but I won't go easy on ya. I'd hate to ruin you, sweet girl. price will take it nice n' slow. just like you need." and after, you'll be ready to take ghost. ready to adjust to his size.

you swallow hard, ghost's hands escaping and clawing at your clothed chest. you nod. "o-okay."

price stands from his chair and begins to undo his belt. "come sit on my desk, sweetheart."

part two

cod masterlist

[roseseafoam]

Since time is what we make of it anyway—I’ll have experienced three months of being 30 tomorrow. It’s really nothing different than any other year, really…

[inkedbybarnes]

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist