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#even if she is being a bit of a dummy about it
chowadoe · 10 hours
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so more on that role reversal au...
Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik
some more expanded thoughts below ^_^
SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT
Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.
he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)
the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.
Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..
If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?
what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.
Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.
au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil
when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)
SONIC - ACCOMPLICE
Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)
Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.
He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)
and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!
his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...
has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.
Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^
Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 
the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm
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mellowsadistic · 2 months
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“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.
She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.
"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.
"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"
“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”
She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”
“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"
"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."
“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"
“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”
“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.
“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."
“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.
I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."
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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
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secretly-dum · 1 year
Note
Could I get a Joel miller x reader fic where the reader gets her period and her past partners always made her sleep on the couch bc they thought it was gross and Joel is just like wtf at someone treating his daeling like that?
Come Back to Bed, Please?
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pairing: joel miller x AFAB!reader
genre: romantic fluff <3
summary: you get your period and freak out over what Joel’s reaction could be.
warning/contents: reader has a period, blood mentions(obv), Y/N is used, AFAB reader, mentions of past relationships, it gets a tad bit angsty.
additional notes: ty for the request!! Im actually AFAB(I identify as agender btw) so I can relate to this 😭
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Your stomach starts to hurt and you immediately realize what time of the month it is. You rush to the bathroom and grab your stash of pads underneath the cold sink.
Knock, knock.
You completely forgot about Joel..
“Uh..Y/N? You..you alright…?” Joel questions worryingly, thinking the worst that could possibly happen to you.
“I’m alright…I’m just on period!” You yell out nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t make a snarky remark or say you’re disgusting.
“Alright, just tell me if you need anything.” He says and you hear him walk away. Fear washes off of you, but confusion starts to settle in when he didn’t give you the reaction you thought we was going to give you. Cleaning yourself up, a cold darkness settles outside, indicating that you should start to go to rest.
“Took Ellie to sleep, she told me to tell you ‘goodnight’” Joel says chuckling softly and you smile.
“Well, I’m tired too. Think I’m gonna head to bed now.” You say as you pick up your pillow and a blanket from you and Joel’s shared bed.
“Woah woah woah! The hell are ya’ doing?”
“Picking up my stuff…?”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I’m on my period, dummy.” You nonchalantly reply, and lay down on the couch. Joel looks at you with the most confused expression ever and realization hits you like a truck.
“That don’t mean you have to sleep on the couch.” His southern deep accent breaks the short silence between the two of you. Opening your mouth, your voice seemingly disappears from your throat, and now you’re the one confused.
“But that doesn’t…that doesn’t make you disgusted? Or something? Doesn’t that bother you?” You say, barely above a whisper.
“No…? Y/N…god dammit.” He pinches the bridge of his nose making you even more confused.
“Wha-“
“I’ve dealt with all sorts of blood before. I’ve seen clickers in front of me, and those shits are nasty. You really think blood like that is gonna bother me?”
Now that he says it, that really doesn’t make sense. His statement lingers in your head for a while before you say something.
“Well- I guess that’s just a reaction I get a lot. My past partners didn’t like the fact that I naturally bled, so they usually made me sleep on the couch.” You admit, looking down at the floor to avoid looking at Joel’s face. He stays silent longer than usual and you look up to see him being shocked.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle.
“That’s fucking absurd? No one should treat you like that, ever. They’re lucky I don’t know who they are.” He says walking to you and pressing his forehead against yours, pinning you down on the couch. A warm, fuzzy feeling enters your heart and you let your left hand trail up to his cheek. Moonlight hits the floor, brightening the living room.
“It’s not that serious Joel.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.
“It’s that serious to me, you’re…you’re human. It’s something that happens naturally, if they don’t like that then you should’ve left them.”
Your gaze at him starts to turn blurry as tears show up in your eyes, you kiss him and he unexpectedly picks you up bridal-style. You squeal out his name and he tells you to ‘shush up’. He gently places you down on the bed.
“Get yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.” The covers of the bed get on top of you and Joel leaves the room.
A few minutes passed, where is this man? you thought, and he walks in the moment you stop thinking.
“U-Uh..H-Here..” you grab a mug out of his hands and embrace the warmth of it.
“What is it?”
“Tea…it’s from a uh..tip that Tess told me that would help with cramps..” Red tints his face, but luckily from the darkness it’s not visible.
“Aww Joel, you didn’t have to do that!” You say as he steps in bed, you take a few sips from the tea and place it down on the table next to the bed. Joel slips more under the bed and fully gets comfortable, and you position to be the big spoon. You arm wraps around his back and you feel Joel kissing your shoulder.
“I love you, don’t let anybody tell you different.”
“Joel…
I love you too.”
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Hello! I just found your blog a couple days ago and I love your stuff!! I like that you mark everything as either being romantic or platonic (as an aromantic, I would like to say you are a saint for doing that) , and all the little pictures and memes bring me immense joy
I was wondering if you could do a platonic alastor x reader where reader makes/made a deal with Alastor. Like full on, sold-their-soul-to-him, no-takesies-backsies kind of a deal.
And like, maybe Alastor doesn't care about them that much at first, but they slowly grow on him? And reader doesn't like alastor that much either, but they have the same dark, chaotic energy and they just sorta click eventually. (and maybe some Rosie in there too??)
Omg you're so sweet for this 😭 Some of the platonic ones are my FAVE! Plus, I get that not everyone is looking for romance 🤧
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
Plus a little Rosie X Reader
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: Cartoonish antics, little bit of violence, Alastor being Alastor, Reader lost their soul
Description: ☝️⬆️
You didn't think Alastor was serious when he said he wanted your soul, who tf does that??
Alastor, that's who, you dummy
To be fair, you totally thought you were going to win but imagine your shock when chains suddenly appeared on you like a leash
Bullshit bullshit bullshit
He has you working at the hotel with Husk and Niffty but you go out of your way to mess things up for him
If you're gonna be his pet then you're going to be a nightmare pet
Maybe he'll decide you're not worth the trouble and give your soul up?? That's a thing that happens right?
So you do little things to fuck with Alastor, big enough to annoy him but subtle enough to be an accident
He wants you to make him tea? Oops!! You've poured salt instead of sugar and now he's choking down salty tea because he's too proud to admit you pulled one over on him
Not him giving you a death glare from over his cup
"How is it~?"
"Delightful."
He wants you to wash the dishes? Fine but you're going to drop and break his favorite mug and every replacement he gets
You're so clumsy
You have to carry his bags?? Fine then-
No, you know what? Niffty can carry the bags she's much more strong and sturdy than she looks
You're no fun
The point is, if Alastor is going to make your life miserable because he owns your soul, you're going to give it right back
You don't even make the punishments fun for him
He doesn't stop seeing you as his worst deal until your both suddenly faced against the same foe
Some idiot Vox hired to pick a fight with Alastor and for some reason Alastor picked you to handle it
Watching you play with your prey reminded Alastor of himself, giving him a few good chuckles
By the time you were done, your opponent had practically pissed themselves to death, terrified by your maniacal nature
After the fight while you're being patched up, you and Alastor share a few laughs as you retell what happened
And then you two laugh about Vox
And then you two laugh about how your opponent died
Nobody else is laughing you sick fucks
There's a change in your dynamic after that day, the two of you becoming partners in crime
Those pranks and punishments you two used to use on each other? Now you're combining forces to use them on everyone else
Everyone thought things would be better once you two put aside your differences
But this is so much worse
They find excuses to just send you two out of the hotel so they can have some peace and quiet
You just feed off each other's worst energies and keep making each other worse
The only mitigating force for you two is Rosie, she's the only one who can get you two to slow it down
"Alright! Hold it!"
Not the two of you being scolded by her, looking like two little kicked puppies because Rosie won't let you two blow up a shop
But the owner is so sleazy!!!
No, you two can't pretend to be repairmen so you can break into people's homes and destroy their tvs
She won't even let you write fake fan mail to Vox, slowly gaining his trust as his number one fan only to shatter his heart in some devastating and public way
Wtf is wrong with you two
She just knows how best to handle the two of you and doesn't really mind how twisted the two of you get to be
She finds it adorable
You are besties by that point, an unstoppable force that wreaks havoc on anything in your path
Oh and sweet Rosie is there too
Holding the leashes for you two
You almost forget he owns your soul and so does he most days, the two of you seeing each other more and more as equals
Or at the very least, friends 🧡
Maybe you've earned your soul back
Nah, keep it
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This was so fun! I really hope you liked it!
527 notes · View notes
amoreva · 2 months
Note
yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.
could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.
maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk
LOVER AND A WARRIOR
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—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader
summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.
warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!
a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.
So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.
Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).
It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.
Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)
You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.
Percy surely didn’t expect it either.
Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.
“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.
“They know better.” Luke smirked.
“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.
“Who’s the first?”
“Y/N.”
Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.
Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.
“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”
Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”
•••
It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.
Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.
Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.
Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.
“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.
She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.
“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.
“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours
A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.
“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”
She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”
“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.
“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”
“Clarisse…”
“Keep reading, lovergirl.”
•••
“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.
“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.
Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.
It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.
“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.
You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.
Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.
With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.
Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.
It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.
Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.
You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.
Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.
“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.
Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.
You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.
“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.
“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.
“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.
“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
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jihyoruri · 3 months
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 LOVEFOOL ahn yujin x idol!reader
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🪽★ ͘ ⴰ in which yujin realizes that the girl that the girl that’s caught her attention is the same annoying younger sister of her ex member that told her she needs dance lessons
warnings: yn is apart of new jeans and is sakura’s younger sister, fluff, yn is described as a brat, swearing
all yujin can think right now is how stupid she is.
of course the yn that she’s fallen for is the little shit head that told her that she needed “dance lessons” a couple years back.
yujin was definitely in shock when her and wonyoung knocked on the door to the lesserafim dorms and instead of being met with one of the members at the door, yn opened it, the girl that she’s been talking to for the last couple months.
also sakura’s little sister.
“hey unnie, what are you doing here?” yn asked with a smile on her face, opening the door wider so wonyoung and yujin could come in.
“I should be asking you that,” yujin says standing in front of the girl awkwardly earning a confused look from yn as wonyoung walks deeper into the house, leaving them at the front.
“you mean chilling at my older sister’s place?” yn says tilting her head, yujin would’ve thought that was adorable but due to the circumstances that was the last thing on her mind and it was now her turn to look confused.
“you never told me kazuha was your older sister,” she replies dumbly which causes yn to let out a big laugh.
“my last name is miyawaki not nakamura you dummy.” yn says in a playful tone looking up at yujin and pushing her shoulder softly.
wait?
“oh…”
“yeah oh,” yn mocks before grabbing yujin’s hand and placing the older girls arm over her shoulder, “now let’s go, she’s actually been wondering who ive been talking to, I can’t wait to see the look on her face," yn says mischievously and again yujin would’ve found it adorable if it wasn’t for the circumstances.
"oh, also my members are here as well."
yn who yujin now remembers as sakura’s brat of a little sister is the same yn that’s practically her girlfriend, how did she not see the similarities? yn is still very much a brat the only difference is that yujin now finds it cute rather than repulsive.
and the last names, gosh was she really blinded by love to not realize that yn had the same exact last name as her former member?
yujin wonders if yn still sees her as a bad dance, yn is an amazing dancer one of the best yujin has ever seen, was yn just suppressing her thoughts now that she liked yujin?
yujin doesn't know why it bothered her but it did, if yn really did still think she was a bad dancer it would completely ruin her self confidence, who knew when you liked someone how much power their opinion could have over you.
"hey, you okay?" yujin looks down to see yn looking up at up her still lucked under her arm, "are you nervous? come on its just sakura who you should be worried about is minji-gosh I can already see the glares." yn rambles.
"I'm okay," yujin smiles at yn hesitantly, thoughts still clouding her mind as they reach the living room where everyone is.
the talking that filled the room stoped when they entered the room, sakura's eye widening when she takes notice of yujin's arm over yns shoulder.
"yujin, you're the girl?" is the first thing that comes out of sakura's mouth, yujin can feel the new jeans leaders gaze on her but that's the least of her worries right now.
"yeah..." she responds nervously, yujin really wished now wasn't the time that all of this was being unwrapped not with all the thoughts that are circulating her mind right now.
"why is it so quiet?" yn asks with sass in her voice like always causing everyone to start back up their conversations while sakura gets up from her seat on the couch and walks over to the couple.
"is this for real?" she whispers, "you guys genuinely like each other?" both girls nod, yn with a little bit of more attitude because is that even a question?
sakura turns to yujin, "you know she's quite the handful right? can you handle her?"
"she can handle me just fine thank you very much." yn butts in leaning into yujin's side as yujin nods.
sakura stares at them for a little longer before letting out a sigh, "as long as you guys are happy I guess,"
"we're gonna have to set some ground rules, but that's for another time, we're gonna play just dance come on."
dance? why did that sound like the worst to yujin right now.
yn squeals and removes herself from under yujin's arm and jumps onto sakura's back as the older girl walked away, "I'm gonna crush everyone."
yujin trails behind them, this should've been an enjoyable moment but not with all these insecurities circling her mind.
she walked into the room and gave everyone a greeting and smile as they set up the game before taking seat beside minji who leans over to her, "we're gonna have to set some ground rules."
yujin lets out a sigh "yeah, I figured."
yujin kept to herself as everyone had fun playing the game and just as yn said she destroyed everyone, it was at the point that everyone was trying to forbid her from playing for the next couple of rounds but it was all fun and games, yujin wished she was in the right state of mind to enjoy this moment with everyone else.
"hey," yujin is snapped out of thoughts by the voice she loves the most, she looks up to see yn sitting beside her while everyone is still discussing kicking yn out "wanna verse me?"
that did not sound enjoyable at all.
"no, it's okay," yujin says quietly.
"are you okay?" yn asks worried, and that's a tone that you'll barely hear from the younger girl, "your vibe is completely off right now."
"I'm fine."
yn shot yujin a look that screamed "get real" before standing up and grabbing yujin's hands and pulling her into the hallway nobody even noticing to deep into their deep discussion.
"okay, tell me what's going on." yn said crossing her arms over her chest, "and don't give me any bullshit"
yujin lets out a sigh and mumbles so quietly that yn couldn't hear her.
"what?"
"If I'm gonna be honest I completely didn't put together that you and sakura unnie are sisters so seeing you here today really brought it to light but then I remembered what you said to me a couple of years ago about how I needed dance lessons and it didn't bother me much back then you were just really annoying but then now with how much I like you and I wonder if you really think im a bad dancer yujin says rushingly while yn looks at her in shock.
"yujin," she whispers her face softening as she grabs both of the taller girls hands, "of course I think you're a good dancer."
yujin just stares at yn as she continues, "you really remembered what thirteen year old me said to you? thirteen year old me thought you were the cutest girl ever but decide to tease the hell out of you because she couldn't handle having a crush."
yujin feels a smile make its way to her face at that, "you had a crush on me for that long?" she teases quietly as yn rolls her eyes, "yes, and im sorry for making you think that you weren't a good dancer, you're amazing"
"yn apologizing, this is a once in a blue moon experience." yujin smiles pulling yn closer to her who just laughs and rolls her eyes once more, "yeah, yeah don't get used to it," she responds before softly placing her lips softly on yujin's who kisses her back right away chasing yns lips when she pulls away from the older girl laughing.
"lets go back before minji untie realizes were gone and loses her head." yn says interlocking her hand with yujin who nods understandingly.
"evern though she's younger than me she's really scaring." yujin says as yn drags her.
"lets not focus on her and lets focus on how im gonna crush you in just dance, that you'll want dance lessons."
that should've made yujin offended but all she could do is smile and look at the younger girl fondly.
she really was a lovefool.
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Bimbo!reader that's insecure about not being as intelligent as her boyfriend, Konig, constantly tries to learn more and be more helpful but still feels really embarrassed asking things people usually know/asking for help for certain things, feels bad for being a slow learner :(
Awww( Bimbo reader who listens so so so eagerly to Konig's one-sided conversations about wars and history and all of the nerdy stuff - you just can't keep up, even with your cute fluffy notebook and a pen with little rhinestones all around it( you're seriously taking notes on the history of Roman Empire from his perspective and Konig, being a bit of an arrogant asshole that he is, would sometimes even deliberately made up facts or make you eat his opinion like it's the only right one - he lives for that shine in your eyes. How you look at him while he is too busy with admiring your features. He wouldn't protect you from his friends when you're away at first - he was always eager to get a bit of a laugh out of you, even though he knows just how fragile your self-esteem might be. You're a big dummy for him and his friends, and they all love to take some frustration by bullying you - but once your lips curl in a pout and your breath starts to hitch, tears start to collect in your eyes..yeah, well, Konig is not happy. He might like his friend group - but there is only as much they can do while he is simply too busy trying to strangle all of them at the same time. Only he can make his precious girlfriend cry - even if she is an extremely sensitive and stupid creature.
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katakaluptastrophy · 4 months
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You know how it goes: through some incredible circumstances, God and a young woman living under the shadow of an oppressive empire have a metaphysically unusual baby who grows up to be a general nuisance, won't stay dead, and sports a few additional holes...
It's the third Sunday of Advent and I'm a little concerned Bible studies for weird goth kids might be turning into a series... Let's talk about the Blessed Virgin Mary and Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity.
Wake was probably never described as "gentle", "meek", or "mild", but there are a few similarities: distinctive outfits, snazzy shrines, commitment to putting down the mighty from their seats, and of course babies with great and terrible destinies niftily conceived without sex.
On the topic of conception, let's clear up a common, uh, misconception: the term "immaculate conception" does not refer to Mary becoming pregnant with Jesus. It's Mary's own conception.
Why are we talking about how Mary was conceived and what does this have to do with lesbian necromancers?
To answer that question, we have to go back further still, way before Mary's conception. Back to these guys and their unfortunate snack cravings:
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Remember how last time we talked about the concept of being in a state of grace? Well, the Christian read on Adam and Eve is that a state of grace was, as it were, the factory setting for humanity. They were fully in tune with God, there was no sickness or death, there was no sin. Until, that is, the whole unfortunate business with the apple. The first sin. The world is fundamentally altered. Humanity is expelled from paradise, burdened with sin, death, disease, patriarchy, and work. Worse, this sinful human nature turns out to be sexually transmissible: every human being is born tainted by this "original sin" of Adam and Eve.
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This is why Catholicism is so big on baptising babies: even if they're many years off being able to commit any sins themselves (a sin has to be something consciously chosen and understood), they're still contaminated by that original sin of Adam and Eve. Baptism is understood to erase original sin, wiping the slate clean.
Bear with me, we'll be back to necromancers soon I promise. Have a picture of Mary beating up the devil while an angel holds baby Jesus:
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OK, but what does Adam and Eve's danger snack have to do with Mary's conception?
The "immaculate conception" refers to the idea that unlike every human being between Adam and Jesus, Mary was conceived without the contamination of original sin. The rationale for this is complex, but essentially boils down to something like the saving power of Jesus not being bound by piffling things like time and space and thus saving his mother before her own conception and allowing himself to also be conceived and born sinless.
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But the important bit is that something specific about Mary means that she is uniquely able to be pregnant with Jesus.
You may be starting to guess where this is going...
Because while unconventional pregnancy seems to have been the plan from the get-go for Jesus, it was not with the artist formerly known as The Bomb:
“I had the baby,” said Wake. “The baby I’d had to incubate myself for nine long fucking months, when the foetal dummies these two gave me died.”
“Oh, God, it was yours,” said Augustine, in horror. “I thought you’d used in vitro on one of Mercy’s—”
“I said they all died,” said Wake. “The dummies died. The ova died. Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“So you used it on yourself,” said Augustine. “Anything for the revolution, eh, Wake?”
We have to assume the foetal dummies plan was hatched by Mercymorn, a brilliant scientist with a myriad of experience. If the problem encountered by Wake were as simple as Lyctoral infertility, I suspect Mercy would have spotted that long before.
But what do Wake and John have in common that Mercymorn or any of the other ova-having residents of the Mithraeum did not? They are both (to some extent at least) factory setting humans: unlike everyone else in the Dominicus system, they never died and were resurrected, nor are they the descendants people who were. John's abilities, while macabre, are not straightforwardly the necromancy otherwise practiced in the Houses. That necromancy is a direct result of one specific act of taking that resulted in the very nature of the world changing: a thanergetic system, inhabited by human beings who, necromancer or not, are fundamentally tainted by thanergy and by the after effects of that action of John's. You might call it a sin. An indelible sin. He does.
It's not an exact parallel, but necromancy certainly occupies a space not dissimilar to original sin: the result of a single action, tainting every descendant of its progenitors regardless of their actions of abilities.
And then enter Gideon, born in space away from the thanergetic energy of the Dominicus system to a mother lacking the 10,000 year intergenerational burden of the resurrection and necromancy. The child of Jod, born to die.
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abbeym28 · 2 months
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Clarisse x Reader - Once More to See You
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Clarisse x gn! reader, any cabin
An- sorry this took so long to get out! Anyways, thank you guys so much for liking my other Clarisse fics! This is my fourth one, so I hope that they get better with the more I write, but pls let me know if this is bad! Idk where my mind was when I wrote this lol. 3.3k words! Let me know if I messed anything up, and tell me what you guys thought of the last pjo ep! Dior looked as beautiful as always!!!!
Warnings!- nightmares, kissing, affection, mentions of training and weapons, pet names, pls let me know if something was missed!
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The sun was almost to much to bear.
Beating down on Clarisse, it was almost melting. But she continued to swing her spear at the training dummy, hitting as hard as she could while making sure to be acutely aware of where she was landing the hits.
She was also very aware of the eyes that followed her every move. 
She knew that it was you, the only person at camp she allowed to get close to her. For some reason.
“Do you want to train with me?” She paused to yell and to look over at you.
“I’ll pass.” You were standing on the sidelines holding Clarisse's water bottle and her towel. She looked back at the dummy once before relaxing a bit and walking over to you. She grabbed the water and jugged it.
“How's day goin’ for you, angel?” You rolled your eyes just a bit and smiled at her nickname for you. She has called you that ever since you two really became friends, and almost gone is the flustered feeling it used to give you.
Almost.
“Really good actually, pretty girl.” Clarisse then took that chance to roll her eyes back at you, but the sun was definitely getting hotter because there was definitely no other reason why Clarisse’s face was feeling so warm all of the sudden, even after her intake of cool water.
“Oh yeah? What have you been doing?” She took the towel that you had extended to her and sat down on the closest bench. She nodded along as you recounted your day and how you spent the most of it doing crafts and training with the younger campers. She sat and listened until it was time for dinner, where the two of you sat side by side at the Ares table, even though it wasn’t technically allowed.
A few of her siblings teased the two of you, but it was a common occurrence, so they all knew that this was normal and would continue to be so. But they also couldn't just let it slide.
Clarisse made sure you were close by the rest of the night, completing both of your nightly routines that have over time molded together to make sure that they could fit like a puzzle piece.
She walked you to your cabin, and just like on any other night, there was a slight itch in her hand and the thought in her brain that she should be holding on to you in some way.
Linked hands, her arm around your shoulder, her hand guiding you whilst being placed on the small of your back. All feel like they could be the most natural thing in the world, if only your relationship could be just a little different.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Your question broke her from her thoughts and she just nodded.
“Yeah. Sleep tight, got it?” You smiled and hesitated before pulling her in for a quick hug. She tried to get over her surprise fastly, but you were quicker to end the hug then she was able to melt into you.
“So, um… goodnight.” You turned and walked into your cabin, Clarisse and one of your siblings who had witnessed the event watching with wide eyes. She made eye contact with them, and her shock dropped from her face. “Scram.” Your sibling nodded and wordlessly walked past her, going to some place she could care less about.
She stood there for another minute or so, her hand covering the bottom off her face as she sighed. The sun was gone now, but for some reason, her face felt all too hot right now.
She was beginning to think that the reason and cause had to do something with you.
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Clarisse woke with a start the minute the creak of a floor board was heard across the cabin. She had practically trained herself to be awake at any moment, though she could mostly thank her fathers genes for that convenient trait.
None of her siblings seemed to have got it though, since none of them had even stirred.
She squinted her eyes to try to see through the darkness. “Hello?” she whispered out. The outline of a person stuck standing near the doorway visibly let some tension out of their shoulders as they began to move towards her, seemingly uncaring of the other little creaks that the old wood would let out.
“Clarisse?” Clarisse also then let out a breath, as well as a lot of the tension she was also holding.
“Angel? What are you doing here?” She sat up a bit more properly and scooted more to the side of her bed that was touching the wall, patting the now empty wedge, the sheets still wrinkled from the few hours of tossing and turning and sleep she had got.
You moved into that space next to her, bringing your knees up to your chin and  your arms wrapped around your legs.
Uh oh. Clarisse thought. The fetal position was never a good sign.
She hesitated before reaching her own arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer to her, hoping that you could soak in some of the warmth Ares kids were notorious to have.
But she was still an Ares kid.
Comfort was not something she was really familiar with.
“What happened?” Her mind began to wander a bit, thinking that you must have gotten hurt. But who would hurt you knowing they would have to face her wrath? Her hands shook a little as she went through a list in her mind of potential people. It must have been one of your siblings, probably the one who-
“I had a nightmare.” Your voice was barely audible, but just the sound almost instantly calmed Clarisse down.
“Yeah? Do you want to talk about it? Or….” you shook your head no. “Do you want to stay the night here?”
You shifted a bit to look at her, and she noticed your eyes were a bit red and puffy. She wondered a bit about what could have happened in your dream if it made you have this strong of a reaction. All demigods got nightmares, you and Clarisse being no exception.
But this was the first time you had ever sought the other out like this.
“Can I?” You whispered.
“Any time.” She gently coaxed you out of your position so that way the two of you could lay flat on your backs, her arm still protectively holding you. “You know that I’m super strong, right? Whatever was scary in your dream was definitely no match against me.” You giggled, and Clarisse smiled.
She then spent some time talking about how she could protect you against anything, right until you fell asleep. She watched you for a moment, the peaceful look and the rise and fall of your chest bringing her comfort. She gently pushed a bit of hair away from your face and refused the urge in which was telling to place a kiss on your forehead.
She settled beside you, and sleep came easier for her then it had ever been since she had found out she was the daughter of war.
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Sunlight streamed a bit too harshly through the windows making Clarisse try to close her eyes tighter. She groaned when she realized it was useless.
Someone cuddled in closer to her, their arms getting stronger around her waist. She tensed up a bit before remembering last night. The both of you were laying on your sides facing each other, all of your limbs seemed to be entangled with hers. She leaned into you more and began to close her eyes again.
That was before she heard the giggles of her siblings.
Her eyes shot open, and there were some of her brothers and sisters, standing above her bed, two of them with cameras. “What the fu- get away! Get!” She whisper- yelled, trying her best to not be close to your ear while making sure you didn't move much. Her siblings just laughed, took a picture, and then ran out of the cabin, their heavy steps making her flinch.
“What time is it?” Your voice distracted her from glaring at the still left open door. Her eyes flickered to her alarm clock. “It’s almost nine.” You hummed and burrowed your face into her neck.
She tried to ignore that.
Clarisse was always an early riser. Sleeping in any time after seven made her moody, and naps were completely out of the question and annoying to her.
So how was she able to sleep till nine, breaking her 5:30 wake up and missing both of her alarms? And why did she feel so… rejuvenated? Were you numbing her senses?
“We should get up.” You looked up at her, your eyes all sleepy and a small frown on your face.
“You don’t want to stay with me?”
Oh.
The room felt a bit hotter all of the sudden.
“Don’t you have classes to teach? The kids can't learn how to craft all by themselves.” She smirked as you blinked at her. You groaned and sat up, cutting off the skin contact and effectively making Clarisse feel colder and as if she was missing something.
“You’re lucky that I like what I do. I’ll see you at lunch, ‘kay?” You smiled at her and got up, stretching as you left her cabin to walk to yours.
All Clarisse could think about was; "is she actually lucky?"
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The rest of the day seemed to go like normal, with you and Clarisse doing your separate duty’s while still finding times and places where the two of you could meet.
She was able to track and threaten her siblings, the ones who had taken the pictures of you two sleeping. She confiscated the camera, but when no one else was looking she pocketed one of the photos.
For safekeeping. She justified to herself.
To make sure that no one else would see it.
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That night when you said your good nights, you hugged her again. This time it was a hug she was able to lean into, one that she was able to savor.
She was about to offer you to stay with her again, just another night. But the words got stuck in her throat as you pulled away.
“Stay safe, promise?'' Your words made her curious, but she wasn’t going to question you. It clicked that this was probably because of your dream.
“Have you even met me?” She laughed a bit, and you smiled at her softly.
It made her falter a bit. If any enemies were just a smidge like her, then that smile alone would stop an army.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I promised the kids that we would teach the sword class together.” She sounded a bit breathless, and she hoped that it was only in her mind. You hesitated, but nodded.
“See you tomorrow.”
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Clarisse has been on edge ever since the clock turned to twelve. It was around this time that you had come to her yesterday, and even though it was a one time event, (or so she figured it would be), it felt like there was a pit in her stomach, and she couldn't help but feel like you were in some sort of danger.
She was almost ready to jump off her bed and speed walk to your cabin.
“Clarisse, can you stop?” One of her siblings whispered from some other bunk and she sighed. She realized that she was tossing and turning louder than she thought.
“I’m taking a walk.” She flipped the sheets off of her and walked out the door, making her way silently to your cabin. There were only a handful of times that she has been in here, but she knew where your bed was.
You were tossing and turning worse then how she was, sweat dripping down your chin to your neck. She gently touched your shoulder, something she knew she probably shouldn't have done, but it was enough to wake you from your sleep.
You sat up fast, your chest moving rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped.
“Clarisse? What… why are you here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her, still breathing hard.
“I felt that you weren't okay. Another nightmare?” You nodded as she continued to stand above you.
“Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna- I’ll… leave.” She turned around, but your hand caught her wrist with a tight grip before she was able to get far.
“Can you… can you stay?'' You were looking at her with those eyes again, and her breath was gone as well.
“Yeah. I can.” Her voice was too soft, a soft that would make her father distaste her even more. But she climbed into your bed, and for another night she slept with you in her arms.
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The two of you occupied each other's beds for the next month, but neither of you spoke of the tension that riddled the space between you.
Nightmares didn't plague you any more, and Clarisse was getting better sleep then she had ever gotten before. That was until Chiron called her to his office.
“A quest?” Chiron nodded.
“Yes, one that was provided by one of the gods themselves, Hera. She asked for an Ares kid to complete this for her. You’ll think about it, won’t you?”
Clarisse nodded slowly.
“Perfect. Now, get back to your activities.”
Clarisse left his office like that. Her mind was clouded, and she didn't really know what to do.
Of course she had to take it, this was another great opportunity to show how great she was to her dad, and how far her training has come.
But she couldn't help thinking: what about you? How would you be if she had left? Quests could take up any amount of time, and what if something happened to her? Or you while she was away?
“What was that about?” Luke appeared next to her, catching her by surprise. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“A quest. They specifically want me.” Luke nodded, and he had that weird thoughtful look on his face that made Clarisse’s nose wrinkle.
The two of them hardly got along well, but as cabin counselors they had to be civil. She looked around at the trees as they walked together towards the training ground, that is until Luke spoke your name.
“Do they know?” He asked. She shook her head.
“No other campers but you knows.” He just nodded his head again. He smirked and looked at her.
“Can't wait to see how that goes.” And then he turned and walked the other way, leaving Clarisse standing there in slight shock. What was that about? Did he know something she didn’t?
She shook it off the best that she could before walking to where you were.
There was a smile on your face as you helped an eight year old boy from the Hermes cabin hold his sword properly. She watched as you stepped back and let him swing it at the target, clapping your hands and laughing a bit once he finally got it right. He ran to give you a hug, and you hugged him back, and she could tell from where she was that you were praising his abilities. Clarisses heart felt so full, and all though she thought it was impossible, she could swear she was falling for you even more.
Maybe Silena was right, and she is a stickler for domesticy. Maybe a quest wasn't what would make her truly happy. Maybe it was a life with you.
“Clarisse!” You were running towards her and she caught you in a hug.
“Hey. I was actually hoping that we could talk for a bit.” The smile stayed on your face while confusion clouded your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed.
“Sure, okay.”
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The two of you walked into the forest together, stopping in a clearing which happened to be Clarisse’s favorite place at camp. Other than wherever you were. You took her hand in yours in a way that she assumed you thought would bring her comfort, but it just made her heart beat faster.
“The gods want me to go on a quest.” She blurted out. Your face and mood fell and you took your hand out of her grip gently.
“And what did you say?”
“Well, I'm technically still thinking about it, but I think that this could be good for me. Hera wants this thing done for her, and you know that I have trained for this, and it would be nice if my father would recognize me at least once. But I also- Angel? Are you okay?”
You looked as if you were about to cry, one hand hovering over where your heart is and the other almost covering your mouth. You were shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Clarisse didn’t like it one bit.
She moved towards you, placing her hands on either side of your shoulders and helping you sit on the ground. She put your face in between her collarbone and neck, stroking your hair softly as you sniffled.
“What’s wrong?” She was unsure that you would answer, but you shifted your head a bit back.
“This is just like my nightmare.”
It all kind of made sense now.
“I had them, for like, a week before I first went to your cabin. It’s always the same some how, with you accepting a quest from Hera and never returning, or you go missing and I have to be the one to find your body, or I go with you and I can’t do anything about that stupid monster you fight, and I just-” You were crying, Clarisse could practically feel them burn into her skin.
“I don’t want to lose you Clarisse. Not on a dumb quest or ever. I don’t know what to do without you.” Clarisse nodded a bit and fiddled with a piece of your hair.
“I chased away the dreams though, right?” She had no clue if you would appreciate any type of small joke she made, and she figured she was dead when you pulled away from her a little and looked into her eyes, your lips slightly parted in what she could only guess was surprise.
Then you leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
She was surprised, just like how she was when you had first hugged her. You pulled away quicker this time, fear evading finding your eyes for the split second before Clarisse pulled you back in, returning the kiss you first started with as much passion as she could possibly convey. You were both breathless the next moment once you realized that you had to get air.
“I don’t know what to do about the quest.” Clarisse whispered. She didn’t know why she did, but she felt like something could break if she didn’t.
“I don’t know either.” You responded, your voice as low as hers.
“I-... I think I like you.” Clarisse confessed.
Although they weren't exactly the words she wanted to say, (She knew for a fact that she was in love with you), but it still felt as if a slight weight was lifted off of her. You leaned back into her, so close that she could practically feel the smile that grew on your face on her lips.
“I think I like you too, pretty girl.” And she smiled too.
“Why do you call me that?” She tilted her head as you leaned back and laughed.
“Because you're pretty.”
The way you said it with so much certainty, as if you knew she could rival Aphrodite herself, made Clarisse feel bubbly, and she wasn’t someone who would ever really feel like that.
She didn't know what she would do about the quest.
She didn’t know what you would do if you found out if she ever accepted, or what punishment she would face if she were to turn it down.
But Clarisse La Rue was in love with you, and she would protect you from those nightmares for as long as you let her.
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AITA for photoshopping porn in this guy's pictures for years?
So, I've hated this guy since high school when he spit on me for being a "freak" after bullying me relentlessly since middle school. I'm not the type for public retaliation so I just kinda let it fester for awhile until I got the idea to make multiple dummy accounts on every social media site I could find him on and started photoshopping hardcore porn onto like every reflective surface in any pic he ever posted.
I've been sending this guy these pictures anonymously for years now, I'm 100% committed to this bit and it thrills me endlessly to read in dms how much this drives him insane especially because he doesn't know who it is even after all these years. Any time he posts a pic within minutes I send him a photoshopped one back from a dummy account then giggle reading his messages about how this makes him miserable, it's honestly the highlight of every day.
Recently though I told an old friend about what I was doing and she said I'm an obsessed psychopath but I personally think since he got to torture me every single day for years then it's only fair I get to do the same. Plus to me it's mostly harmless, and if we're talking about the ways I could potentially get even this is the most banal choice. Still, she told me I'm no better than he was if I keep it up.
I disagree but I'm interested to see what other people think of it
What are these acronyms?
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ilylovelyz · 10 months
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fuckin' envy
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just levi fucking the jealousy out of his adorable girlfriend 🥰
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sprawled over levi's desk you were. soft moans and mewls escaped your mouth as the feeling of his angled thick cock hitting that spot over and over washed over your limp body. your legs were thrown over his shoulder, black lace panties dangling on one of your ankles.
you thought back to the hour before, when levi had scolded you for being jealous after a particular blonde female had laid her eyes on levi. she had clearly fancied him. that sent you into a little frenzy of sorts, doubting yourself. just tearing yourself down to the roots of your hair and bits of your nails.
levi did not waste a second to not indulge in your silly little insecure thoughts, but he could not help but feel his cock twitch when he saw how pretty and adorable you looked when your face became flushed with tears, pouty lips lush and plump.
he wasn't trying to take advantage of your vulnerability, he would never do that. he just thought of how beautiful his little lover looked, crying because she feared loosing what he thought was an unwantable guy like himself. lord, how touched his heart was. you were absolutely perfect to him. so loving.
he couldn't help but interrupt your little sobs and cries by shushing you, shoving his tongue down your throat and laying you down on his desk. his unfinished reports can wait, for now, he just needs to console his perfect lover and make her feel good again.
discarding all your clothes, he only removed his belt and shoved his pants down enough to free his cock and guide himself into you, feeling content that he was now inside his pretty lover.
he was absolutely surprised when you confided in him with your thoughts and fears of him leaving you for that blonde cadet. why would you ever think that? it absolutely broke his heart to hear. you are absolutely so sweet and gentle with him! you are such a dummy for thinking that. levi already saw through that girl and just knew how fake and stupid she was, compared to a genuine, sweet woman like you, she was nothing.
so here he is now, deliciously dragging his cock through your tight walls, purposing angling his cock to hit that one spot that brings you closer and closer to your nth orgasm. he fucked you so well, turning you even dumber on his desk, eyes rolled back, mouth agape in a silent cry.
groping your soft breast, caressing the bud between his calloused fingers, he thought maybe if he fucked you even better, you'll simply forget about that bitch. "yeah, that sounds like a good plan," he thought.
against your overstimulated and weak disagreements of how it was "too much," he began to roll his hips even deeper into your soaked cunny. the tips of his ears twinged red at the sounds of your cunt sloppily slushing with every pull and thrust of his. you were so wet. probably because he made you cum more times than he could count.
amiss of him fucking your dumb brains out, in came the same cadet you were jealous of. she didn't even fucking knock. "tch, don't you see i'm in the middle of something? damn brat," he hissed, not even looking up at her. he was too enticed by your pretty, fucked out face.
he didn't even notice her leave, too busy with making you cum again, and again, and again.
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chuunai · 3 months
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Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool
Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this
Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3
✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu
who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?
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summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.
It’s a perfect night, really.
Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.
Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.
“You should sleep, [name].”
His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.
“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”
You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.
His little hellion.
Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.
Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.
“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”
He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.
Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.
“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”
Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.
“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”
Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.
“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”
Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.
Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.
You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.
So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.
Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”
Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.
“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”
From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.
After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.
It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.
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Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx
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novalpha · 1 year
Text
𝑆𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑠 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠
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♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Tomorrow tonight ୨୧♤♡ -> @cheolbooluvr
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Push it down (Sooner or later it all comes out) ♡★⌗✹ -> @dontflailmenow
summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ After Class ★⌗-> @rubyreduji Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
summary: Professor Choi makes sure to always take care of your needs after class.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Down bad (so so bad) ♡★ -> @lovelyhan
summary: it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wedding night ♡★ -> @onlyhuis
Synopsis: seungcheol just wants to treat his wife right on their first night together as husband and wife.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Bite that lip ♡୨୧★ -> @beahae
Summary: Seungcheol knows you're really close with his whole friend group. But now that things have... quietly been developing between the two of you, he would love it if you'd cool it with the heavy flirting with the other guys.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Amortentia ♡୨୧ -> @http-mianhae
DESCRIPTION ᝰ Being head-over-heels for the Gryffindor captain is harder than it seems, especially when everyone knows about your little crush on Seungcheol and he takes it lightly. Until when you’re partnered up and forced to be in each other’s lives on a daily basis, that’s when things take a bit of a turn
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ BIG COCK: for dummies ♡★ -> @ncteez
summary: the one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ She's in the rain ୨୧ -> @onlymingyus
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Crossing Boundaries ♡★ -> @wonusite
summary: ❝ Seungcheol has always demanded that all of his employees keep professional boundaries, but it frustrates him that his son’s nanny is a little too good at keeping things professional. ❞
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Driving me crazy ★-> @1-800-hwahui
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ laundry and jiu jitjsu ♡✹ -> @cheolism
summary: after seungcheol leaves the laundry unfolded on your bed before going to his jiu jitsu lesons, you decide to take action.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Terrifyingly innocent ♡୨୧★ -> @twogyuu
Synopsis: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ inflection point ♡୨୧★ -> @lovelyhan
summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hello tutorial ♡♤✹ -> @97-liners
it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover).
or
in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Found you ୨୧♡ -> @thedensworld
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In the eye of the beholder ୨୧♡★ -> @cheolism
summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Frozen cold proposal ♡ -> @cheolism
summary: seungcheol is stubborn and decides to try and make soup over the fire. you stumble upon a surprise in his pockets when trying to huddle against him for warmth.
[ More Scoups fic recs will be updated ]
Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here
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joshsbimbo · 2 months
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positive
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part one ♡ part three
pairings: stalker! mike x victim! reader
warnings: stalking, obsession, mike’s a cuck, pregnancy test, framed robbery, stolen underwear n laptop, reader’s a slvt
a/n: heyyyy y’all long time no see
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♡ cramps. bloating. cravings. hell. you assumed that your period was close, but weeks have passed and not even a bit brown appeared on your pad. you sat on the bathroom floor, your hands anxiously twirling your hair as your best friend comforted you.
♡ “babe, it’s okay! you used protection, right?”
♡ you shamefully put your face in your hands, “when i had condoms, yeah…”
♡ she stops checking herself out in the mirror to look at you in disbelief, “what about pulling out?”
♡ “plan b exists for a reason!” you whisper-yelled.
♡ “so do condoms, dummy.” at first, her eyebrows were furrowed, but then she stopped when she realized how anxious you were. “i’m still here for you, even when you do dumb things.” she gives you a comforting smile while squeezing your hand.
♡ you smile back, and when you’re about to reply the alarm cuts you off. “you flip it!” you squeak, burying your face in the stuffed animal you brought for emotional support. you held your breath as she flipped the test.
♡ “bunny… i'm sorry." she shows you the test. the blue letters you dreaded. “positive”.
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♡ your best friend leaves hours later, leaving you alone as you lay in bed.
you: how much do abortions cost
her: abortions r like 800 but i can split with you
you: that’s still like 400000000!!!
her: 400.
u know i love u tho and would spend more than 800 for u! <3
you: yh but i was the one being stupid
idek who the dad is
her: slut 😭
you: bro stfu
not my fault these men r easy lol
♡ you toss your phone away, pulling out your laptop to watch a movie as you get comfy in bed. wait- where the fuck is your laptop?
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♡ it’s been two weeks since mike took advantage of his princess, how could he not? you looked so pretty and you did owe him one and you- whatever. besides using your blacked-out body, he also took a souvenir. he thanked god that you used icloud, looking over your gallery as his hands were down his jeans. he swears, once you’re his, you won’t be a whore for all these braindead men, only his. he still enjoyed seeing your pretty pics of cum on your face, tongue sticking out, and runny mascara though...
♡ another one of his favorites was you in a mini skirt, bent over to show your pretty pink panties. he held those same panties in his hand as he stroked his cock against it, going painfully slow to be able to admire your body fully. he tried so desperately to go slow so his mind wouldn’t get so fuzzy, but he couldn’t help it when he had so many pics of you in lewd positions and angles. pathetically cumming into the lacey fabric, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe, the pleasure was so much that he had to hold his breath.
♡ ding! he squinted his eyes to focus on the message from your best friend, “abortions r like 800 but i can split with you”
♡ he wipes his hand on his jeans to click on the notification, reading your messages. “she’s.. she’s pregnant..” he muttered, his breathing picking up again. “abortion? fuck fuck fuck, no!” he yelled out, running his “clean” hand through his curls in disbelief. he got up from his bed, pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how to stop you.
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♡ it was one of mike’s favorite parts of the day, he stood by your favorite store as he pretended to be doing his job. his walkie-talkie occasionally turning on and the person on the other side requesting for a guard or announcing that someone was caught stealing.
♡ never you, though. his perfect princess would never steal, so it really killed him to do this. as you entered the store, you paid no mind to mike. you looked through the rack of clothes, focused on finding something good while mike sneaked in a pair of earrings into your purse. he pretended to look around for anything “suspicious” before leaving the store, smiling to himself that he had the guts to do that. eventhohebrokeintoyourroomliketwoweeksago
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♡ retail therapy was obviously needed because of the night before, your shoulders felt less tense after paying for your new tops. you happily left the store but stopped in your tracks when the alarm went off.
♡ a security guard walked up to you, his eyebrows already furrowed as he put his hand out. you shakily handed him the receipt, tears already threatening to spill, the hormones making you 10x more sensitive. he looks over the receipt and your shopping bag, then he points at your purse. “i’m going to have to check your bag, ma’am.”
♡ you willingly gave him your purse, just wanting to get over it. your heart drops when he pulls out a pair of hoops, “i-i swear i didn’t put them there!”
♡ “then who did, bitch?-” he asked, but mike's voice quickly followed after him.
♡ “it's fine, steve. i got this, you go take your lunch break.” mike looks at the man with a “sincere” smile.
♡ steve scoffs and backs up from the two of you, giving him a ‘are you serious?’ look, before leaving to the food court.
♡ you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. “thank you-” you read his name tag, “mike!” you smile up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.
♡ “no need to thank me, i just really hate the new hires. they’re suck dicks.” his heart skipped a beat when you said his name, he tried so hard not to stutter but the blush on his cheeks said it all.
♡ “no seriously! he looked like he was going to kill me!” you let out a laugh of relief. “how can i repay you, mikey?
♡ mikey. his very own nickname from you. he almost died. “no no! you don’t need to. i promise.” he looks down at you as he gives you the sweetest smile ever. no one else makes him smile like you do
♡ you playfully hit his arm, biting your lip slowly as you giggled, “c’mon, pleeeasseeee?”
♡ are you flirting? his cheeks flushed even more at the thought… after a couple of minutes of chatting, mike's walkie-talkie turns on.
♡ “mike. imma need you to come to zumiez, some dude was trying to steal a beanie and he’s putting up a fight.”
♡ his heart drops and he looks at you shyly, “before i leave.. could i get your number?” of course he already had it, but he wanted to hear the numbers come out of your mouth.
♡ “mhm, call me if you ever need anything. i owe you, mikey….” you kiss his cheek before leaving.
♡ he holds his cheek in awe as you leave, finally, you’re going to have a man that treats you right… not like the other dickheads.
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thank u for reading <3
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Bimbo!reader who gets bullied by recruits or just whoever is dumb enough making sarcastic remarks and comments about how dumb she is, didn't really understand it was sarcasm at first but got really depressed about it when she found out they were actually making fun of her X Konig
Awwww( Konig is protecting his precious dumb girlfriend! He adores you as much as he possibly can - poor, dumb girly, you really need to start relying on him for everything or else you won't get anything done...seriously though, he would not let that shit slide with his friends. Some mild bullying could be fine - he is inviting it, if anything, with treating you as his favourite stupid commodity rather than a beloved girlfriend, but it's his friends - they would bully everyone, even him! As long as you get it that the boys will be boys, he would try his best to make them stop before doing anything too harsh. However, if the recruits are making these remarks...Konig can be a bit awkward on social situations - but he is still a colonel, a man with power to make anyone shut the fuck up and start working for him...so the soldiers are basically getting their asses handed to them like this. Poor girl, you were so sad over these guys making fun of you, treating you like a bimbo from porn rather than a living, breathing being...it's a good thing Konig is around - although he tenderly asks you to close your eyes and shut your ears before he is beating the shit out of poor recruits who wanted to get an easy rise out of you. Konig would ask if you're okay right after - poor thing, you must look so desperately tired after everything( he is still calling you his dummy - mostly because you didn't ask him for help until recruits started to become relentless, and now he had to calm you down and teach everyone a lesson on why they shouldn't mess with his girl. It's tiring! You better be a good little bimbo and give him something nice for his efforts, alright?
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