You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?
No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!
Well, no worry!
As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-
What do you MEAN "No"?
Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.
Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.
He'd eat her.
Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.
But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!
Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.
They're AWFUL~♡
And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.
But!
You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*
Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?
For Danny to be his Son.
*Gets a call from Frostbite*
...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.
You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.
:)
*instantly begins plotting*
Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.
Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.
It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.
Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.
But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.
Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.
Lex has never been worse.
He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.
Clark wants to cry.
@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull
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The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting
The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help
I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story
They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain
But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me
She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in
And he laughed.
Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling
He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start
I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.
Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction
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What would the LaD boys do if the reader was sick?
Imagine: Get Well Soon (ft. main trio)
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)
Tags: fluff, comfort, you are sick
A/N: as a person with really weak immune system i wish someone would take care of me too
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-
Zayne
"I'm prescribing bed rest for you for the next few days. No objections."
No matter how hard Zayne is trying to hide his concern for you behind a mask of indifference, you could still tell how he feels from his tone.
Either way, you're in the best possible hands.
Considering his job, he can't just leave everything and rush to you. He's got surgeries scheduled. But you can be sure he'll spend all his free time with you until you get better. And if you ask, he can lie down next to you.
He'll take care of cooking and will make sure you take your medicine on time. He may be a little strict with you, but that is only because Zayne really cares about you. You need cold compresses? Give him a minute. You're thirsty because of the fever? He's already brought you a glass of warm water. Hugs? Well, why not, since love is the best medicine.
Zayne is calm and collected, he knows exactly what needs to be done. So all you have to do is lie down and get well while he takes care of you and covers all your needs.
"Sleep. Your body needs to rest so it can recover faster. I'll be here."
Xavier
"It may not have turned out very tasty, but I really tried."
Poor Xavier, being very caring and sweet, is simply incompatible with cooking. Even when it comes to chicken soup. But he'll try for you this time.
Although you ended up agreeing on the fact that he'd just order delivery, rather than accidentally setting your kitchen on fire while trying to cook something else.
He'll try to take a couple days off to stay with you until you get better. Just so he doesn't have to worry about your health getting worse while he's on a mission.
He will make sure you have everything you need, especially a warm blanket. And if that blanket isn't enough, he can always keep you warm with his embrace. No, Xavier is not afraid of getting sick himself, he is confident in his immune system.
Most likely to fall asleep along with you at some point, cuddling you and resting his head on your chest. You will benefit from sleep, and he just needs it to recharge his energy. So it's a win-win.
"Just let me know if you need anything. Don't even hesitate to ask me."
Rafayel
"Don't worry, I won't let this teeny-weeny sickness stop us from spending time together. You'll get better soon under my care."
Rafayel sounds really confident, but he's actually worried. He just knows how to hide it well behind a thick layer of false self-confidence.
And he will never admit that he felt like a lost child for a minute.
Rafayel won't want to leave your side for a single minute and will make the coziest nest in the bed for you. Of course, someone has to go and buy some meds, because it's impossible to find any in the chaos of his studio, so that falls to Thomas.
Poor Thomas.
Luckily, he can cook quite well on his own, so you won't have any trouble with that. In any case, he can always order a delivery too.
Will spend as much time with you as you need and bring you whatever you want. Paintings can wait, he'll always be able to finish them on time. Besides, maybe he'll find inspiration from being with you.
Not afraid to get sick either, so he'll cuddle you 24/7, telling you that comes into his mind until you feel like sleeping.
"See? Told you I can take great care of you."
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Heyyy! If you’re open for requests, there’s this TikTok that I saw where a pregnant lady had her husband lift her heavy belly for a few minutes and it gave her some relief. I somehow could see Mingyu do that. His wife having a hard time getting used to her growth and him trying his best to help her 🫠🫠🫠
HUSBAND DUTIES — kim mingyu x reader
summary: where mingyu is the best support system for your pregnancy.
note: this request was soooo cute!!! i don't know anything about pregnancy though, so anything that i mention about pregnancy is probably false so should be taken with a grain of salt. this is shorter than i expected but i hope u like it anon and everyone who reads this <33. also you guys should request more ;)
"Eggs, carrots, flour," You read to the phone, Mingyu on the other side as he was at the store.
Since you announced your pregnancy, it seemed like Mingyu was determined that you barely moved a finger during the 9 or so months. This meant that you weren't allowed to carry anything that was remotely heavy (he practically pouted the one time you insisted on helping out with the dishes); in this case, he took on the duty of going to the store.
You hesistated for a moment after saying the last item on the list you wrote out before saying, "Also, the baby is saying that you should pick up some chinese from that one place near the house,"
"Really? The baby said I should pick up food?"
"Yep, uh-huh. And the baby said you should buy ice cream from the convivence store as well," you affirmed, patting your pregnant belly as if you were high-fiving the baby through your belly.
Mingyu chuckled in amusement before saying, "Well, tell the baby that it'll take a bit of time if that's okay with them,"
"Okay, but don't be too long! I— I mean the baby will miss you a lot," you whispered, as if it was a secret.
"I won't take long," Mingyu reassured you, amused.
"Hey Gyu?"
"Yes, my love?"
"It's just not the baby that misses you,"
"Oh, yeah?"
"I miss you too,"
"I'm home!" Mingyu called out, opening the door and walking in your shared home, hands filled with plastic bags that came from the supermarket.
"Yay!" You cheered, slowly standing up from your seat on the couch then you walked (more like waddled) to Mingyu. You tried to grab one of the bags that was in his hands, but he moved away quickly so you didn't have the opportunity to grab a bag.
"Mingyu! Let me help!"
"No, just sit and I'll grab everything," Mingyu told you.
You pouted, but obliged, watching as he made his way back and forth from the car to the kitchen.
Once he was finished, he exited the kitchen and made a beeline towards you, holding the paper bag that was holding the Chinese Food. You made grabby hands towards the bag and he gave it to you.
You started to open the bag but then Mingyu said, "before we eat, I wanna test something on you,"
Looking at him confused, you looked at the food before looking back at him and shrugged. "Alright," you shrugged, putting the bag on the table that was in front of the couch.
"Stand up, please," Mingyu requested and you did, and he moved so he was behind you, which confused you even further.
Deciding not to question it, you looked at him from behind to see him grab the underside of your belly. When he lifted your belly up, you instantly felt relief feeling that a massive weight was just removed from you (which did, technically).
You sighed in relief, resting your head on Mingyu's shoulders and basking in the moment where there was no extra weight.
The pregnancy, as happy as you were starting a family with Mingyu, left your body sore constantly. And Mingyu knew this, since he's witnessed how your body was changing and even massaged your feet whenever you asked.
"How do you feel?" Mingyu asked.
"Like you should do this for the rest of my pregnancy," you said, smiling up at him.
"I don't think I can do it for that long, but I'll do it whenever you ask," he told you.
"Where do you learn how to do this?"
"Wonwoo sent me a TikTok of a man doing this to his wife so he gave me the idea," he explained.
You and him were in the position for a few minutes before he decided to say, "okay, I think I'm going to let you go,"
"No," you said, dragging out the 'o'.
He kissed the crown of your head in an apology before moving away and sitting on the couch. You sat beside him and kissed him in thanks.
"Love you,"
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Good Omens S2
Okay so.
Excellent Job, Gaiman
Ouch???
I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.
But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).
It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.
And it's slow.
Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.
Anyways.
Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.
I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.
I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.
I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.
I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.
On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.
And Crowley. Dear Crowley.
He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.
Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.
Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.
It won't be permanent.
But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.
Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.
I want Aziraphale to get angry.
He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.
I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.
But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.
For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.
For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.
For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.
And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.
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Random Sibling Headcanons
I'm a wee bit sick, which is why I've put my more serious projects on a very short pause. That being said I still feel the need to write something, so why not get some ideas out in the form of little fun ideas? Featuring colored names this time because it's fun for my brain.
These are just some little headcanons I like to think the brothers have done, since I love thinking of their sibling/ at-home relationships with each other.
In the picture of Lucifer's office, he seems to have stairs heading up to a second-story loft of some sort. I've always imagined he has a "Pride" wall somewhere up there filled with memorabilia of his brother's greatest or proudest achievements. There's some photos, art pieces, awards his siblings gave up on keeping, etc. His brothers know about it but hate it, so they all never speak of it.
Mammon and Levi once both badly injured their hands, trying to outdo each other high-fiving. You know where you try to get that perfect smack and hurt the other person's palm? Yeah, like that. They whiffed it on the first try and had to do it again and just couldn't stop after that.
Belphie usually puts small portions of his dirty clothes into his brother's hampers so they can clean his clothes for him without them realizing. It drives them all wild having to sort it out each time, and Belphie thrives off of it.
One of Satan's favorite pranks was to quickly run around the whole house and use up every hot water source he can while Lucifer was taking a shower so his water turns ice cold while the eldest is still in it. It got to the point where Lucifer is actually fine taking cold showers now.
If a bunch of them are in the same room and one of them gets a call from Lucifer, the others will suddenly try to sound like something horrible is going on, more often than not trying to incriminate the person who picked up the phone, blaming them for some false scenario that never happened.
If Belphie gets woken up too many times in the same day, he'll find ways to wake his siblings up in the middle of the night. Once he managed to get into all their phones and set annoyingly loud alarms, another night he cursed the piano in the music room to play until morning. Now the brothers have an unspoken rule not to wake their youngest sibling up more than four times a day.
Asmo likes to barge into his siblings' rooms sometimes unannounced with his D.D.D. while he's live on Devilgram or Deviltube. He loves to catch his brother's doing something stupid, it's hilarious. Sometimes he's not even live, he's just recording so he can keep videos to laugh over later.
They trade chores often, much to Lucifer's frustration, but everyone has some chores they absolutely can't stand. They've even somehow come up with a bartering system of sorts. Laundry = 1 other chore like dusting, but something like Dishes = 2 chores like taking on laundry and vacuuming.
None of them have ever missed one of Beel's games. They always show up and sit in the same spots so Beel never has to look around for them in the crowd. Lucifer brings the bag of supplies and snacks should his siblings need it. Because they always end up complaining about something by the end of the night. Mammon always brings his megaphone that almost always gets in him trouble every time. Levi gives his brothers all glowsticks. Satan always secretly has tricks up his sleeve to use against the opposing team should any of them come close to harming Beel (although that's nearly impossible, but he has them as a precaution). Asmo made everyone the most beautiful signs to hold. And Belphie brings everyone blankets since it can get chilly in the stands. He also brings a big lunchbox of snacks for Beel to eat right after the game even though they always go out to eat right after.
Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi as the three eldest are used to giving their younger siblings things they no longer need. The younger four have plenty of hand-me-downs but more often then not, they don't really mind. Lucifer gives out anything he's not overtly a fan of which can be anything from books to cologne to jewelry. Everyone has a few old things of his. Mammon gives out a bunch of clothes quite frequently. Despite his greed, his room can only hold so much, and so he usually goes through a semi-regular purge. Anything his brothers don't grab he sells. Levi gives out old electronics since he upgrades to the newest stuff as soon as he can. Because of this, Satan owns a pair of cat-ear headphones.
On a trip to the human world once, Asmo bought Belphie one of those electronic toothbrushes that play a song in your head while you brush your teeth so the youngest no longer falls asleep during brushing. Yes, it was a Brittany Spears one. (Does this date me? Maybe. Do they even make those anymore?)
Mammon and Asmo have both sat Beel down and tried to give him a basic course on recognizing flirting to keep their younger brother from being so totally oblivious, but no matter how many times they try, he never notices. However, now if Beel is ever given a random phone number, he knows to take it to either of those two to sort it out for him.
Once, for Belphie's birthday he received the ugliest quilt made from little squares from his brother's t-shirts, pillowcases, robes, etc. They all worked together to sew it up and it's very, very obvious who did what parts. Belphie says he can't stand the awful thing but sleeps with it every night.
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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤
✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon
❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
✧❁PART 1/???❁✧
"Oh my god you slept with him?!" one of the girls exclaimed as the other girls had their shocked reactions too "Yeah... then he broke up with me" the girl admitted "Isn't Sunghoon a fuck boy though? girl why'd you date him he doesn't even hide the fact he doesn't love you?" another girl pointed out "It doesn't matter, at least I had a great night" the girl said shrugging as the others laughed it off.
Y/n fiddled with her phone as she waited outside the classroom, one earphone in, hidden by her hair. She's heard many crazy things about this high school, having been transferred from a school in UK where she was used to everything, to a high school in South Korea. Everything is so new there, education system, driving on the different side of the road. but she had her best friend, Danielle by her side.
"Hey it's going to be ok" the girl reassured. One thing y/n is glad about, is the fact that she's fluent in Korean so language will not be a big problem for her. She smiles at Danielle as she follows her in. The teacher asks her to introduce herself as the girl blinks, staring at the class in disbelief. Introduce? first day and she has to speak in front of all these judgemental 18 year old strangers?!
"I'm y/n..." she says, forcing a smiled, the teacher points at an empty seat which was sadly not next Danielle. Making a sad pouty face at Danielle, she sat at the seat. 17 minutes. That's how long it took "Park Sunghoon late again?!" The teacher scolded as the male scratched his head then he froze. His eyes on y/n.
The girl's jaw rested in her palm as she doodled in the margin, false lashes fluttering against her glasses, her lips stained with a rosy, nude shade. Fuck she's everything. Is this what cupid felt when he saw psyche? love at first sight like Romeo experienced with Juliet? Sunghoon was captivated.
He slammed his palm on the desk of the person beside y/n. The girl didn't even flinch and probably didn't care due to the earphone blasting Itzy in her left ear. the student sitting beside her immediately got up and went to a different seat as Sunghoon slipped into the seat beside the girl. he turned to her, tapping her shoulder. the girl paused her music turning to him.
So this is Park Sunghoon, the handsome fuckboy they say. Y/n knew he was bad news "Im Sunghoon... and you?" the male asked "Not interested" she said, turning back to do her work "Come on baby, don't be like that" he said, winking as she sighed, looking at him. She then turned back and ignored him, doodling.
"Wah you can draw- that looks so realistic gurl" he complimented as the girl groaned, slamming her head on the desk. "Park Sunghoon stop distracting the new girl and get on with your work. or you can switch spaces with Eunchae!" the teacher warned as Sunghoon groaned, picking up his pencil.
2 lessons passed by and break time rolled in, she smiled, sorta running over to Danielle with grabby hands. they jumped up and down squealing like typical girls as their fingers intertwined. "I can't believe we're finally in the same schooool!" Danielle squealed as y/n smiled. "I know right?! we can finally do typical bestie stuff get our nails done, do each other's makeup, gossip, and hang out~" y/n added with a smile.
"All of this and I don't hear boyfriend... i'm assuming it's because you have one?" Sunghoon asked with a raised eyebrow as the girl sighed "No I don't never had one and never will... I don't like the idea of putting all my trust in a guy." She said, in a slight passive aggressive manner. "Ok but I'm telling you, a pretty girl like you NEEDS to end up with a trust worthy guy like me" Sunghoon said.
Y/n gave him the 'be for real' look as she rolled her eyes, walking away with Danielle. "So stupid. He really thinks I'm going to let him get in my skirt?!" y/n scoffed, handing danielle a cherry lollipop as she sucked on her own. "Please. He can't flirt for shit, and just yesterday he had two girlfriends whom he dumped back to back." Danielle added as Y/n shook her head, disappointed. Sunghoon having over heard all this, decided it was time to stop playing girls like a gameboy, and pursue his princess.
✧❁PART 2❁✧
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😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.
(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎
part 1. part 2. part 3.
tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.
⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)
you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.
you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.
it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.
you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.
opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.
you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!
you are supposed to love him! you have to!
and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.
now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.
claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.
leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.
you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.
he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.
he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.
by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.
cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.
you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.
"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.
"you're stuck with me to the end."
your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.
you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.
"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.
"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.
his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.
he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.
"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.
through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.
and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.
the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.
HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!
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PROMPTS FROM BETTER CALL SAUL
* assorted dialogue from season 1 of the show, adjust as necessary
oh, to be nineteen again!
me, personally, if i were held accountable for some of the stupid decisions i made when i was nineteen...
i bet if we were in church right now, i'd get a big "amen!"
they did a dumb thing. we're not denying that.
nobody got hurt. not a soul. very important to keep that in mind.
so... trespassing? that's a bit of a reach, don't you think?
call me crazy, but i don't think they deserve to have their bright futures ruined by a momentary, minute, never-to-be-repeated lapse in judgement.
you're bigger than that.
thank you for restoring my faith in the judicial system.
son of a bitch. fine.
what did you do to my brother?
why don't you look where you're going?
listen! it was an accident!
somebody call the cops!
how are you gonna fix this? what are you gonna do to make things right?
you have meddled with the primal forces of nature, and i won't have it!
do you want me to call security?
isn't that what you wanted?
you know i'm gonna beat this.
you proceed from false principles. your argument is built on quicksand, therefore it collapses.
i might as well head down to skid row and sell plasma!
money is not "beside the point," money is the point!
hand to god, i wasn't gonna say this, but you are broke.
this is what has you all worked up?
i'm the rising tide that raises all dinghies.
it could happen to anyone.
wow. you got a mouth on you.
you know what i smell. i smell lies.
i'm undercover, okay? you got me.
you already beat the living hell out of them.
i'm gonna break their arms. and i'm gonna break their legs.
i'm the best lawyer ever.
it takes ten minutes to walk down here!
you're like a troll under a bridge.
hey, you asked for me, and i have come.
what they were telling me... it's problematic.
you want to tell me your thoughts and weigh in?
you miserable piece of shit. you set me up.
you think you're funny?
i was never in the house.
you didn't... oh god, you didn't. you didn't do the sex-robot voice, did you?
that's why people hate lawyers.
how come you let me off the hook back there?
i'm going back to work. why don't you quit while you're ahead and go on your way?
finally, someone believes me!
it's human nature to want to stay close to home.
please, just don't tell anyone about the money.
you expect me to believe that shit?
i'd cut the cute attitude right about now if i were you.
you ratted on me. there will be consequences.
you know how much trouble you caused me?
i get that... but this? you're better than this.
i refuse to consider myself a victim.
are you ready for that?
i may have seen one of these before.
it's a little... sexual, maybe?
you're completely disgusting, you know that?
oh, here's your coffee. hope it's good to the last drop.
i'm asking you to take a few ounces of lukewarm coffee and spill it on him.
i'm very sorry to hear it.
anything else you wanna ask?
what exactly did you tell them?
how could you possibly think that?
why didn't you ask me? why didn't you come to me?
a deal? i hate that terminology.
you're telling us there are drug dealers and murderers walking the streets, but instead of going after them, they want to put an innocent man in jail.
you broke into a nursing home?
what number exactly did you have in mind?
so... what are you packing?
how do you not pack a gun?
what are you talking about?
the lesson is... if you're gonna be a criminal, do your homework.
i thought you were proud of me.
just save your breath, okay? you're gonna be fine.
this was the greatest week of my life.
i know what stopped me. and you know what? it's never stopping me again.
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emperor!geto x imperial concubine!reader
a/n: I’ve spent way too much time to research about chinese imperial concubines, playing with Royal Chaos during my highschool years and I had a boring shift at work. This is the result. Probably out of character as hell but hey, I wrote this for my enjoyment.
This is part 1 of a lil historical AU drabble series. I’m already finished with Sukuna, Gojo is in the works, and I got some ideas for Choso and Toji but don't think too much about it, ideas are just ideas.
I was so close to write reader as gender neutral but reader owns a type of traditional chinese headgear used exclusively by noblewomen so... yeah, reader is afab if you squint (very hard).
Likes and reblogs are appreciated, mwah <3
wc: 1011, I initally wanted a few headcannons but I got a full ass drabble
cw: suggestive, false accusations, implied murder, mentions of whipping, choking (not the kinky kind), yandere behavior
credits: renmakia for the gorgeous fanart and my dear @notveryrussian for proofreading and just putting up with my massive jjk brainrot every day, luv ya darling <33
MDNI, if you do, I'm gonna catch you like I'm gonna catch Gege.
He’s a monarch who considers his mind a weapon and information as a whetstone despite being born in relative peace. Spending his leisure time reading Sun Ce, the scripts of Confucian and Taoist scholars, sharing afternoon teas and long walks around the gardens with Buddhist priests and conversing about reaching enlightenment. As if he desperately wanted to understand how the world he was meant to rule works. His mandate of heaven brought prosperity, a flourishing economy, a strong connection between allied realms, a good education system that produced more scholars than in any other time before.
Competing for his attention is not an easy task. You almost gave up, bracing yourself for a long and uneventful life where you can only admire him from afar. You sit in the shade of a willow tree with a board of xiangqi, your playmate having left you not so long ago and you were trying to figure out which tactics and strategies they should’ve used to defeat you. You’re so lost in your thoughts you can’t notice him standing there, in the presence of his guards. You kowtow to him, excusing yourself for daring to bother him, pleading for his patience while you pack your things and leave. He likes that your manners are spot on, and he rewards you with a command to stay, to play with him, since xiangqi is a game between two people. And based on the positions of the pieces on the board you’re an experienced player.
Of course, he defeats you with ease, but he’s grateful you showed him everything you’ve got and didn’t let him win. He tells you that his victory lies in applying the teachings of Sun Ce to his playstyle. Your eyes light up and you beg him to elaborate further, maybe he can help you improve your tactics in the next game. He’s such a well-read man, so hungry for knowledge, so desperate to understand people. You’re sure he wants to figure out your thoughts too, what you think about the world, what values dominate your heart. And the secret to win him over is to shower him with all the details and even politely disagree with some of his beliefs and explain your point of view. That’s what gets him going, knowing your place in the hierarchy but not being afraid to stand your ground. Mindless obedience, at this point, bores him. That’s probably the reason why he slowly starts to favor you, your conversations refresh him, inside and outside of his bedchambers.
You may think that earning your place in his heart is a lengthy and hard process, but when he becomes sure that your infatuation comes from an honest place, he generously rewards your efforts. He showers you with gifts, each more thoughtful than the other. He sends you scripts from his personal library about topics that interest you, fulus he received from his priests to protect you and your chambers, phoenix crowns so elaborately adorned with pearls, sapphires, small dragons, and phoenixes made from solid gold. Gowns embroidered with clouds, cranes dancing around them, gifting you a small piece of the sky itself he descended from. He elevates your rank quickly so you can accompany him during events. Letting the whole court look at you, wrapped in everything he gave you, standing so close you can see him stealing glances at you from under the twelve tasseled crown. He rewards your family with money, grain, rice, political power. If he lifts you up, he does the same with everyone important to you.
But Geto’s court is highly competitive. It’s certainly not easy to be his favorite. You can literally smell the stench of jealousy eminating from the other consorts. Their gaze pierces your skin deeply when the eunuchs drag you around the Palace of Heavenly Grace with a brocade blanket hugging your naked figure. They must endure the sight every other night and they have no idea that the son of heaven is ready to serve you and do as you please behind closed doors and not the other way around, as tradition dictates.
Though he can comfort you, outside of his chambers you fear for your life. You needed a food taster now and never dared to walk the gardens without at least four guards in your proximity. You begin to doubt the trust between you and those you’ve befriended, because they can only blame you for his negligence towards them.
And then, the first accusation about you begins circulating around the palace. Some concubines claimed that you were guilty of witchcraft. So many of them are against you, with so much made-up proof you cannot do more than spend the night crying, believing that at dawn, guards will come for you and throw you into a well. You have no idea where Geto is or how you could beg him for protection.
The next day, strangely, a new set of officials deem you innocent. What boggles you even more is that he comes to your residence instead of having you delivered to him. Even his scent is not like it usually is, there’s something metallic, salty, and musky mixed in with the incense smoke.
That night he cradles you, shushing you, promising to keep you safe at all costs. Keeping it a secret how brutally he disposed of the rumor mongers, how he had some of his officials whipped bloody for not believing your testimony or about the thinly veiled threats that he’ll make anyone’s life a living nightmare if anything happened to you. Your heart skips a beat and simultaneously sinks deep in your chest when those of higher rank than you lower their head, trying their best to not look at you as they pass you by. With dark marks staining the skin below the neckline of their gowns, not even the empress consort being an exception.
It's not easy to be his favorite. It’ll never be easy.
But he’s a god, the son of heaven, and heaven will forgive him and so will you.
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can i request Yoongi drabble? where a random member is Y/N's brother and Yoon is his best friend, but Y/N has a big fat crush on him
hiii, thank you so much for the request! it gave me an excuse to get rockstar yoongi out of my system (and make an actual banner for once), so i hope you enjoy. <3
playing with fire
pairing: yoongi x f. reader
genre: brother's best friend au, rockstar au; suggestive
warnings: extreme thirsting. a moshpit and moshpit-related injury. mentions of blood, alcohol, and weed/cigarettes. swearing. an unrequited crush (or is it). tension. unedited.
rating: this is slightly suggestive but not explicit so 16+
wordcount: 1k
listen to: i'm on fire by bruce springsteen
with this, i am finally done with bee's birthday drabbles! a huge thank you to everyone who sent in requests. i did save a few, so if i didn't get to yours this time, hopefully some inspo strikes in the future.
see all beeday drabbles here
have a favorite? let's talk about it!
It’s been a while since your brother’s band played in a nice venue.
Been a while since your boots didn’t stick to the floor, each step feeling like a glue trap. Since you could go home at the end of the night and pull a t-shirt over your head that didn’t reek of weed and cigarettes and someone else’s body odor. Been a while since you could just exist in peace; not feel like you were taking up room in a space that didn’t belong to you.
Been a while since you’ve seen Yoongi, too.
His hair is longer—half-formed curls framing his face, some trendy kind of shag. Chipped black lacquer on his nails. Fresh ink up and down his arms. Silver hoop through his nostril. A leather jacket and heeled boots, because he doesn’t have a thing to prove to anyone who might have something to say about it.
(You, least of all.)
Somehow, you’d forgotten that some people are magnetic. Some people are meant to be looked at, put on all those impossibly high pedestals, and that Yoongi is one of them. False idols be damned, everyone in this fucking room is wrapped around his finger. Even as he screams into a mic, shoots a sleazy grin at your brother to his left, every single person in this place would drop to their knees as soon as he gave the order.
(You, most of all.)
And you know it’s dangerous; know where that particular road dead-ends. You know that if you try to reach out and touch him all you’ll do is scar, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to quell the urge. There’s still just Yoongi and you and the millions of daydreams that have played out in the dead of night and the boundless distance between you.
The haze makes him beautiful, ethereal, like some kind of demi-god. Imposing, you think, because Yoongi’s up there looking down on you, as stable and immovable as all those shrines they built centuries ago. Places where people would gather to worship, just like now.
You’re distracted. Don’t hear Yoongi when he commands the crowd to move, and there’s a split-second just before the chaos where he finds you—sets his siren gaze on you and smirks out of the corner of his mouth, presses his tongue into the fat of cheek—and then there’s a searing pain blooming in your skull.
It’s hard to say what happens after. Hard to see through the fog and the frenzy, let alone make sense of amorphic shapes. There’s just the aching in your head and the jarring, dissonant ringing in your ears, and someone’s arms wrapped tight around your shoulders.
You come to in a bathroom.
Stinks of piss and disinfectant. Has one flickering, fluorescent light strung above the sink. Dingy tile on the floor and the walls. Paper towels overflowing from a trash can by the door.
“You with me, darlin’?”
Yoongi’s voice. He’s the only one who calls you that. Puts some exaggerated twang on it because he thinks it makes him sound cool. Doesn’t give a fuck about anything, especially what people might think, and he doesn’t have to.
“Not sure,” you answer truthfully. “What happened?”
“Some piece of shit elbowed you pretty good in the side of your head. Got a nasty gash—don’t look, doll. Got fuckin’ blood all over the fuckin’ place.”
You exhale. Nod your head as best you can. Unsteady. Find it hard to breathe when Yoongi’s fussing over you like this, calling you these little pet names. When he gently cradles your face in his ink-stained hands and says, eyes on me. Like you could look anywhere else. As if you’ve looked at anything else in years.
“Wha—what’re you doing?”
“Cleaning you up. Deep breath, darlin’, this is probably gonna sting.”
You barely react, still too dazed by the feel of his hands on you. You wish, briefly, that whoever had hit you had done so harder. Just enough to rewire a few things. Get rid of this juvenile crush you’ve let go unchecked for far too long. “Where’s Hoseok?”
“Went after that guy.”
You scoff. Roll your eyes. “Hoseok can’t fight.”
“Nah,” Yoongi agrees. Bites his lip as he concentrates. “But Jungkook can.”
Another press of an alcohol pad. This one stings, has you sucking in a breath through your teeth. “Don’t you think this is a bit much? I’m sure it was an accident.”
Yoongi is so close. Fits himself in the space between your thighs, presses you further into the sink, the faucet digging into your back. Doesn’t matter. Not when he’s close enough for you to count each individual eyelash, the scars that dot his face. Yoongi’s close enough for you to smell the nicotine that clings to his clothes, his skin, his hair. Close enough to smell the cheap beer lingering on his breath.
“Too much?” His brows knit together, head tilts like a confused puppy. “Why would it be too much?”
“S’not the first time I’ve nearly got my teeth kicked in at one of your shows. I just—is it worth all this fuss? My brother’s gonna get all fucking weird about it, and fuck knows what Jungkook’s gonna do to that guy.”
Yoongi’s close enough that you nearly speak the words against his mouth. Fuck, it’d be so easy to kiss him. So easy to give in and let the world burn down around you, the consequences be damned. It’d be so easy to be ruined by him that it has your hands twitching at your sides, wanting so badly to reach out and touch. Grab him by the belt loops and learn how he feels when he’s pressed flush against you. Learn what he sounds like when he moans, whimpers. What he looks like when he’s hurried and desperate.
"Stupid girl." But Yoongi doesn’t look hurried and desperate—he looks like he wants to devour you. “I would’ve done much worse.”
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mean!dom abby
moans so loud
a/n: thank u anon, again sorry for how long this took me to get out. when i see mean i go crazy. also this is all lowercase (i'm putting this bc ik ppl get mad sometimes) hope u enjoy :)
wc: 1.6k (god im sorry lmfao)
cw: brat tamer abby, name calling (whore, stupid slut, brat, princess, pretty girl), pussy slapping, face slapping, cunnilingus, use of strap on, use of mommy kink, tiniest bit of a breeding kink.
you had been out all night with abby and happened to get a little tipsy. oblivious to you the alcohol made you extremely flirtatious towards everyone, and she wasn't having one bit of it.
abby had found you dancing a little too close to manny for her liking- and knowing him she wanted you out. asap.
grabbing you in by your waist from behind, she spins you around, way too fast for how much you had drank, leaving you all ditzy and disoriented.
"o-oh, hey abby," you hiccup between slurred words. "whatcha doin'?" you look up at her with pupils the size of the moon and she almost felt bad. Almost.
"how much have you had to drink babe?" she asks, looking at your red solo cup that has the smallest amount of liquor left in it. 'uhh-um, not toooo much," you reply, lids droopy and mouth wet from the drink you just sipped.
"oh yeah? not too much but you're rubbing all up on manny like you aren't mine?" she whispers in your ear, making you all dizzy- anticipating what was next as your clenched your thighs close.
shaking her head, abby takes the solo cup out of your hand and dumps it out onto the floor. "what th- what the fuck abby? i wasn't done with that!" and with a grab way too firm to be lovingly, she holds your wrist and drags you towards the doors of the small building.
"we're leaving," and before you could say anything she continues,
"and keep your little mouth shut from here on out. wouldn't want any more punishment than you're already getting, would you pretty girl?"
━────༺༻──━───༺༻────
the walk back to her house was silent and you were fiening with anticipation. you loved it when abby got like this, all possessive and mean, but especially now when your want was fueled by the alcohol in your system- legs wobbling and heat all throughout your body. not to mention how god awfully wet you were the entire way back.
her hold on you was still tight, probably bruising by now, making your skin all sensitive to the touch. reaching her house, she quickly opens the door and escorts you inside.
"bedroom, now. want you all ready for me, okay?" she goes, and with a nod you turn down the hall into her bedroom. sitting on the floor you undress, everything off except for your panties and bra. When she would get in these moods she'd always want you in the same position, on your knees in front of the bed. waiting for her made you whine silently in need, rubbing your thighs against one another, trying to calm the fire that's slowly growing inside you.
abby walks into the bedroom, seeing you in your place she hums in contentment, and takes her own right in front of you.
"think my girls been a little bad today, what would you say, hm?" she says in a falsely comforting tone. "'m sorry abby, let me make it up to you." you say, pouting.
"you'll make it up to me, huh." she replies with a condescending tone as she grips your face, hand taking purchase on your chin, tilting you upwards slightly. "i don't think you're really sorry, though." she mocks.
"open your mouth baby," she goes and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. she bends over slightly, getting closer to you and spits, a long glob of saliva going straight into your mouth. she takes your chin again and closes your mouth for you, watching as you swallow.
"if only you were this good and obedient all the time," she starts, leaning down even more to get closer to your lips, barely brushing against them, making you lean closer to try and capture them in yours, but she pulls back immediately. "but you have to go out and be a dumb little whore when i'm not around, don't you?" and you drop your head in embarrassment.
"abby, i said 'm sorry, i didn't mean to" you respond, but she quickly grabs your hair, yanking it to make you hold her gaze.
"i never asked for a response, did i?" she sternly demands, leaving you to shake your head towards her.
"what's the safeword?" she says and you quietly go,
"red."
"good girl."
━────༺༻──━───༺༻────
now, abby has you pinned underneath her, arms caging you in so all you can see is her and her fake cock absolutely drilling into you, the room filled with the sounds of your combined panting and the slick sounds your cunts making as she fucks into you at an unfathomably fast pace.
"abby, fuck- 's too much," you whine as your grab onto her biceps, digging crescent moons into the skin. "awh, i thought you wanted more?" she imitates, making a point to brush up against your clit with every thrust causing you to let out a strangled moan.
"since you've been such a brat tonight, don't you think you deserve it?" she goes on, and when you whine instead of responding with words she harshly grabs your face and says "answer me." but when you take too long to answer she slaps you, not too hard but enough to bring you back and say, "'m sorry abby, yes i deserve it- shiiiit." and you continue to blabble incoherent sentences as she keeps her assault on your guts.
"suckin' me so deep," she presses on your lower stomach, "can feel you up here huh? does it feel good baby?" and you can. feel her so far inside you it doesn't feel real. "gonna fuckin' fill you up, swear to god," she goes and you moan even louder at the thought of her filling you up- you know she can't but god do you wish she can in this moment.
"more abby- more-" you start but before you can say more you're cut off by her stopping completely, sliding out of you in one go with a groan. "you're so fuckin' greedy baby, if you want it so bad, beg." she spits, cupping your leaking pussy and god- she might break at the sight.
"please mommy, i need it sooo bad, god please fuck me," you sniffle, and at the name you called her she slaps your cunt, causing you to yelp before she dips down and kisses your clit sweetly. "good job, that wasn't so hard now was it princess?" and she comes back up to nip at your jaw and neck, and finally kisses you as she slides back in with no resistance, moaning with you at the feeling of your cunt swallowing her dick, entirely.
your lips practically eating eachother whole, the scene could fit right into a porno, god it was so erotic. tongues fighting for dominance against one another, and teeth clashing in a mess of saliva that was dripping down from your chin and to your neck.
she picks up her pace after a couple thrusts and you're already so dumb off her cock- even though you had just had it mere seconds before. "fu-fuck mommy, feels s'good" you whine nonsensically, feeling your core tighten with each thrust of her hips and brush of her strap against your clit.
"yeah, it feels good huh baby?" and when you don't respond she continues, "you're such a stupid slut all on my cock aren't you? taking me so fucking good, my stupid- stupid fucking slut." she punctuates the nickname with thrusts that hit sooo deep you see stars.
she lifts up your hips with one arm and takes a pillow from the bed- putting it underneath you to hit a deeper spot. you whine between thrusts at the new position and say "want you to fill me up, mommy- need it bad." and she stills for a second at the confession, and fucks into you even harder.
"yeah? want mommy to fill you up with her cum?" she grunts and all you can respond with are whimpers and sobs of her name, mommy and strings of curses.
with the way the strap was secured to her body, she was getting just the right amount of friction from fucking you that she was close too. moans and grunts spilled from her mouth along with praises to you as she fucked into you harder- and somehow deeper. her want took over and she was pounding you- no, she was rearranging your guts.
your cunt spasming against her dick as your high comes closer, oh ever so closer, you being unaware but abby- oh she knows. she can feel every clench of your pussy against her, every drag against your walls and every spill of your juices all on her. "gonna cum for me?" she goes and with your nod she's already dropping down to your ear, nipping the skin and whispering "yeah, cum with me, cum all over mommys fucking cock."
It hits you like a train, stars appearing in your vision- if you could even see at this point, cunt simultaneously pulsing with your clit around abby, mouth wide open but no sounds coming out and arching your back so hard it could snap in half. abby slows her hips, as she reaches her high at the same time, letting you both ride out as much of your orgasms as you can, and when you finally come back to she slowly slides out of you with a curse from her mouth and a whimper from yours.
"think you learned your lesson, baby?" she says as she takes off the harness and lies down next to you, grabbing your naked form and holding it against her while rubbing circles on your hips.
"yeah, i think so." you slur, still in the aftershock of your orgasm, being barely able to form words.
"lets go get cleaned up, okay?" she says sweetly as she kisses your forehead, nose and then lips, and you just respond with an "okay".
━────༺༻──━───༺༻────
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Alien Fantasy-File 2: False Faced Humans (A.K.A. Humans with Masks)
This story in particular was inspired by a post from Recklessly Tall Tales. Ya'll should give her a follow. A lot of her posts is what inspired me to start writing my own.
Here's the post for reference:
"Heh! Now this might be one of our best hauls yet!" The leader of a gang of Tecorrians responded. they were on a planet that was a bit more isolated from the more populated systems and thus made it the perfect spot for trades that would be deemed illegal on other galaxies. One of the partners ran his claw through the Draxilite Horn he had acquired from the sale. If you were to ask the Terrans how to describe the Tecorrians, they would tell you they look like a weird fusion between two animals native to their home planet. the Turtle and the Armadillo.
"I can't wait to show this to my clan. Everything will be built in our honor once they find out i've gotten my claws on one of these!"
"Are you sure about this? I'm sure the elders will know. They always seem to know when you've honestly conquered a Draxilite." His partner responded.
"They won't know. This planet is very close to the colony. they'll just assume i'm struggling but still braving through the beast!"
"If you say so." A third voice chimed in. "Me personally. I'm looking forward to giving my mate this." He said as he pulled out a flower. "The humans refer to it as a "Silent Princess". Apparently it's a special breed of flower that has almost gone extinct on one of their planets. The dealer said he had to invade a human garden to get this."
"Well, We better hurry and get off this planet before-"
"Everyone hide!" One of the Tecorrians abruptly shouted. his partners looked confused as they watched him retreat in his shell. They quickly rolled behind a bush and waited.
"I don't understand. What are we hiding from?"
"Look over there!" The Tecorrian stuck out a claw and pointed. his partners peered from behind a bush and were confused at what they saw. It was a group of humans. Widely considered to be a fairly wild when they had a reason to be, but were otherwise pretty harmless.
"Humans? Are you really concerned about them?" One of the chuckled.
"i don't see any weapons on...wait." The Tecorrian voice trailed off. The scales on his shell began to shiver as his eyes landed on the humans. more specifically, their faces.
"Are those....?"
"False Faces. Those are False Faced Humans!" One of the Tecorrians nearly shouted. he was quickly silenced. Most of the group now seemed horrified. but one of them remained confused.
"I don't understand. What is the concern? Why are they wearing those?"
"Wait. Didn't your clan tell you about False Faced humans?"
"I've heard mentions of them."
One of the Teccorians peeked over the bush and then hastily retreated.
"Those humans. the False Faced ones. They always have a terrifying story behind those false faces."
"My father told a tale about one of them. it happened five years ago. A human got severely wounded and almost killed by one of the guilds in our village. But on the verge of death, He struck a deal with the Ah'Lufrit. The deity of fire himself. He had been brought back to life and had been granted the ability to spread fire. In exchange, He had to wear a hideous False Face. A black one with pitch black glass eyes and a very large snout with several holes. He then burnt down part of the village and wounded most of the guild before he was securely captured. "
"A False faced human did that? i thought one of the knights got to over confident during a weapon demonstration."
"I have a story too. One of the clans in my village had visited on of the human colonies while they had a pandemic going on. And elder told us the humans were all wearing False Faces that resembled the Avian species of our system."
"Are you sure it was a human?"
"Yes! The False face was protruding from the rest of the body and it seemed to be made out of something completely different! The worst part is, according to the elder, the face didn't move at all when the human spoke. it's like it's face was stuck that way."
"Really? You know. on the Subject of Human colonies. A close friend of mine had gone to visit one of the human planets. i believe it was called "Macbeth". The humans were hosting a ceremony there, celebrating the day they had first set foot on the planet. He returned completely horrified the next day. He had seen hundreds of humans with False Faces. all performing these coordinated dances. And they all had different False Faces. One had one that looked like the "Dragons" from human mythology. Another one had a False Face that looked just like a regular human. But it was baring it's teeth. My friend says it was one of the most terrifying things he had ever seen. Almost as if the Deity of Death was taunting him."
While listening to these stories, The Tecorrian took one good look at the false faced humans. They all had the same False Face. Golden with the resemblance to a normal human face. But a few looked "Happy" while the others looked "sad". The Tecorrian found it mildly unsettling how the expressions didn't seem to change. Humans were known for how expressive their faces were. to the point where it could be pretty difficult to read a human. So to see their faces frozen like that. it just didn't look right. He wondered just what these humans did to end up like that? Did they make a deal? did they anger a deity and had been cursed to look like that?
One of the humans put a bunch of logs together and then set them ablaze. creating a massive fire. He watched them surround the fire and stare at it.
"Has anyone ever tried removing those faces?"
"The knights that had managed to capture the human burning down our village did. Once the villagers pulled off the False Face, They said it was the most horrifying sight they had ever seen. It's as if the False Face had completely messed up his face. Many people took it as Ah'Lufrit sending us a message."
"You know. Come to think of it. I've heard a few people at our bar talk about going to one of the Black Market planets in order to meet one. they said they were planning to see if they could bind them to their service."
"I...What fools!!!" One of the Tecorrians shouted, Alarming the entire gang. to their horror, one of the humans turned to look in their reaction. Feelings of fear and panic went through their Tecorrians are they saw the False Faced humans slowly approach.
"Oh no! No! No! No! Not like this!"
"Your holiness! Have mercy on me!"
"Scales to you all! i'm out of here!"
"W-Wait!"
They all quickly scrambled to leave. they didn't know what could possible happen if that False Faced human decided to confront them, but they weren't going to stick around to find out.
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"Yo. I'm back." Jade declared as she lifted her comedy mask.
"So what was that noise again?" Roy asked, lifting his tragedy mask while holding a fruit on a stick over the bonfire.
"Just one of those Turtle-Armadillo looking aliens. nothing to worry about." Jade brushed off. "Let's just get back to work. Are you sure this is the right place?"
"Yeah, look at how much space there is. And this is one of the more isolated planets. the perfect spot to perform without problems. This birthday party is going to be one for the ages!" Roy said with excitement.
"Riiiiiiiiight. But are the masks really necessary?" Jade asked as she looked at her comedy mask.
"Of course they are! Carol is an absolute theater girl. She would never let me hear the end of it if we didn't go all out!" Roy said. "Now pass me that box. I want to test out some of the fireworks!"
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Heyyyyy love, I absolutely love everything you write. I have an itty bitty request!
Would you be able to write a cute fluffy fic with a plus sized female reader with tech with just a touch of spice to it?
You could also make it fun and do one for all the batch members?
Please and thank you if you can!! 🥰🥰
*fun fact - I made that tech edit many moons ago so I’m happy to see it still be used! 🥰🥹*
Embracing the Curves***
All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader
warnings: Mild NSFW, suggestive themes, plus sized female reader, confident reader (we’re all beautiful plus size or not!), mentions of a busty reader in some parts. Tech and Hunters parts are with an established relationship, others are not.
Authors note: decided to do small one shots for each of them in this post, write more for Tech and Echo because… it’s them ♥️ hope that’s okay with you @clonehoe- sorry for the wait !!!
Masterlist
Tech
Tech was watching you work with great interest, proud of the progress you had made in learning all the tips and tricks necessary for ship repairs. As he observed you beneath the control panel, clad in a snug tank top and form-fitting black pants that accentuated your every curve, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate skyrocket.
"Has the light come on yet?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the spanner between your teeth as you glanced up at him for assistance. The ship was scorching hot and it didn’t help that you were settled on a planet that had two suns to add to the heat. The heat system has always been faulty and despite you telling Tech you wanted to focus on fixing that, he was set in you fixing the hyperdrive first.
"Not yet. Try rotating the wiring counterclockwise. That should do the trick," he replied, his voice strained as he watched you work under his guidance. "There it is..." he murmured, his gaze darting to the lights above the control panel as you worked to fix the hyperdrive. "Good girl," he added, his endearment causing a flurry of excitement in your stomach.
Despite the nickname making you momentarily lose your concentration and hit your head against the side of the panel, you managed to remain focused on the task at hand. "Is it working now?" you asked, seeking confirmation with a smile as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.
"Yes, I have to say, I'm very impressed with your skills," he said, helping you out from under the control panel until you plopped down in a nearby seat to catch your breath.
"Yeah?" you asked, seeking reassurance.
"Absolutely," he replied, though his eyes were preoccupied with the alluring contours of your physique. "Perfect," he added, struggling to meet your gaze.
You couldn't help but smirk as you watched Tech struggle to keep his composure under your teasing gaze. Folding your arms over your chest, you subtly pushed your bust up to enhance your assets, causing Tech to wipe the steam that had suddenly formed on his goggles.
"Anything in particular that you're impressed with?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"W-well, it's hard not to be entranced by you looking the way you do while working under my command," he stammered, sitting up straight and tucking away his data pad. "I've adored your appearance since the first day we met, and seeing you all - forgive me - sweaty and wearing tight clothes is quite a fever dream," he added, his words causing a blush to rise on his cheeks.
You stood up slowly and took a couple of steps towards Tech, tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "That's very sweet of you to say, Tech," you replied, your voice dripping with false innocence and a hint of teasing. "I am feeling a little sweaty though. Perhaps a shower would cool me down," you hinted, hoping he would pick up on your not-so-subtle suggestion.
Tech stood up abruptly, his hands flying to your waist and his fingers digging into your fleshy skin. "Perhaps since you helped me repair my ship, I could help you get freshened up," he offered, his lips trailing down your neck and over your chest despite the sweat that covered your skin.
"Eager, are we?" you asked, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and suppressing a sweet sigh.
"Very much so," Tech groaned, holding you as close as possible. The two of you were rarely alone on the overcrowded ship, and with his brothers gone on a mission, Tech wasn't about to waste the opportunity to map out your whole body with his tongue.
Echo
"Trooper, what appears to be the issue?" Your entrance into the medbay had Echo stunned, his eyes locked onto your stunning, curvaceous figure and beautiful eyes.
He found himself gaping, struggling to find his words as he wished he had accepted help from the medical droid instead of being left in this state of awe.
"Trooper?"
Apologising for his silence, Echo managed to inform you of his injury to his femur that he sustained during a mission that had left him more grumpy than usual but your soft smile and calm presence helped to ease his nerves. Though, he was a little preoccupied on how your uniform was snug but not to the point it looked bad. It look really good.
He always took himself for a gentleman but as he gapes at you with hungry eyes, it was hard not to get enthralled by you.
You sat down next to him with a datapad, ready to take notes. "Can you tell me how this happened?" you asked with a soft smile.
Echo explained that he sustained the injury during a mission when heavy debris fell on him. You expressed sympathy and asked, "Are you in any pain, sweetie?" You were surprised by the endearment that slipped out of your mouth, although neither of you mentioned it. Then again, you did think he was much cuter than any other clone he had seen.
"Just a little, not as much as before," Echo replies steadily, hoping his blushing cheeks aren't too noticeable.
"I see. Have you been taking any medication for it?"
“No ma’am,”
You nod in understanding and stand to your feet again, placing your device to the side and slide on a pair of gloves. “Do I have permission to touch your leg to feel for any breaks?”
“Yes please.”
You both blink at one another and the quick realisation of what Echo just said sunk in fast but, you were blushing which was a good sign… wasn’t it?
“I mean, uh, do what you have to do ma’am.” He clears his throat, keeping his eyes diverted away from you but you could only smile at him in return and proceed to gently caress his thigh.
“Does it hurt here?” You ask, adding gentle pressure.
“No,” He says through gritted teeth, absolutely loving the touch of your hands on him - even if you were a stranger and even if it was simply your job.
“And here?” You ask again, applying pressure to a different area and as he winced in pain, your question was answered.
After a few more assessments, you highlighted that his femur isn’t fractured, only bruised and should heal naturally on its own. As you give the diagnosis, it went through one ear and out the other because again, his eyes being to wander and land on your hips as you turn away but caught him looking as you turn back to him.
You place your hands to your hips and smirk, “See something you like, Trooper?”
Echo’s eyes widened and he mumbled a thousand apologies at once, stumbling off the bed and thanking you for the help. You had a inkling that you may be seeing him again sometime. Well, you hoped so.
Hunter
Watching you work out was one of Hunter's favourite pastimes. The day was sweltering, and you naturally dressed in less clothing than usual for your workouts.
"Can I join you?" Hunter approaches you with a grin, sporting nothing but shorts that accentuated his tanned and toned body in the sunlight.
Finding yourself gaping in awe at his body too, you can only smirk back, slipping into a fighting stance and recalling every technique that Hunter had taught you. "How could I say no to you?" You ask and as you move, sweat drips from your body, enhancing your already alluring figure and heightening Hunter's senses.
"Good form," he compliments, stepping closer to you. His tone hints at his admiration for not only your workout performance but also your physique.
"Oh really?" You turn your head to glance at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why don't you demonstrate some other stances for me?"
Hunter relishes in the playful tone of your voice and steps up behind you, placing his hands tenderly on your hips, which he always yearns to touch. "Angle your body to the left and add a bounce to your knees," he instructs, guiding you through the movement. Though he knows you are capable of executing the exercise on your own, he can't resist the opportunity to have his hands on you.
You follow his directions but find yourself a little distracted by his touch. Even with his heightened senses, it feels as though Hunter is transferring his energy to you as his fingers caress the curves of your hips, trailing down to your thighs and back up to your arse, sending shivers down your spine. “Hunter…” you find yourself moaning his name, earning a low chuckle.
“Don’t get distracted by me,” he breathes down the nape of your neck but with his bare torso against your back and his hands roaming your body, it was so hard not to.
Wrecker
Wrecker had always admired your body, but it was your thighs that truly captivated him. At first, he was drawn in by your beauty, and it took some time for him to realize the full extent of his fascination. It wasn't until he saw you wearing shorts to bed one night that he truly understood the power of your curvy legs.
Now, as you lay on your cot reading a holobook, legs propped up in the air, Wrecker found himself once again unable to tear his gaze away from your thighs. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you watching him until you decide to speak up.
"May I make you an offer, Wrecker?" You asked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. He cleared his throat and tried to act casual as he responded.
"Sure, what is it?"
"If you promise to stop staring at my legs all the time, I'll let you come over and give them a massage," you smirk, lowering your holobook to look him in the eye. Wrecker felt his face flush with embarrassment. Had it been so obvious that he couldn't take his eyes off you?
He started to stammer out an apology, but you cut him off with a wave of her hand and a soft smile.
"I don't mind," you say, sitting up until you’re sitting on your legs and teasingly entice him over by beckoning him with your finger. “I like to think they’re my best assets,” you comment, patting your legs that made them subtly jiggle which almost made him drop his helmet he was cleaning.
“Well, they are pretty.” He stands and comes closer until he sits on the edge of your bed watching you shift from your current position to you sat with them laid out. “Did ya mean your offer?” He asks, fingers twitching to reach out and touch your skin.
“I did,” you smirk, “go ahead.”
His hands come down to your thighs, large and rough yet gentle as he caresses your skin. He watches you for your reaction and as you tilt your head back and sigh in satisfaction, he knew he made the right choice in accepting your offer.
Crosshair
Crosshair watched as you struggled to hit the bottles he had set up as targets. He shook his head in disapproval and clicked his tongue, his new found admiration for you mingling with his frustration at your poor performance. But, he couldn’t help but also admire the view of you.
"You're doing it all wrong," he chided from the sidelines. To which, you let out a heavy sigh and nearly threw the rifle to the ground in frustration.
"I'm standing exactly where you told me to," you huffed, earning an eye roll from Crosshair. He approaches you, a small smirk on his lips as he positioned himself behind you.
"No, you're not," he teased, but he softened his tone as he sensed your frustration growing. "Stand here," he instructed, pointing to a spot next to him.
Reluctantly, you obeyed, standing close to him as he instructed you to raise the rifle and relax your shoulders. Crosshair watched you with his sharp eyes, feeling a sense of power as he towered over you.
"Okay, now what?" You asked, breath steady as you glanced back at him. You couldn't help but feel weak in the knees whenever he looked at you like that. He always had a hold over you, and him being so close to you now didn't help.
"Don't look at me, look at the target," he commanded. His voice, which usually dripped with venom, was surprisingly soft and alluring.
Turning away, you let out a small and surprised gasp as his hands come to your waist but to your surprise, he let out a small gasp himself.
“Wow princess,” he cooed, his fingers melting against the curve of your body, “I always knew you had a beautiful body but to touch it… stunning.” He breathes down your neck.
Your eyes widened at his words but you succumbed quickly to his touch, your back pressed against his chest as his hands begin to roam your body. “Y-you like my body?” You question with a hint of insecurity but your question is answered as he finally places his lips to your neck.
“I love,” he sighs, caressing your body from over your clothes, “every inch.”
You end up dropping his weapon eventually, it clanging to the floor with a thud and as you go to apologise, he spins you to face him, close and dominant. “Screw it,” he grunts, devouring your lips with his own.
That was enough teaching for one day…
Masterlist
My Kofi
Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @erellenora
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Just gonna leave the "Damian learns that Anya is an esper" ideas here because I need to get it out of my system
- At first if Damian catched Anya starring at him at school he went "Watermelonwatermelonwatermelonwatermelon" in his mind to prevent Anya from reading his thoughts. After a while Anya legitimately started believing that he must REALLY like watermelons
- Because Desmond's name attract trouble in a way of false friends and dirty pranks, Anya would sometimes seemingly at random pull Damian down to her and whisper in his ear if there are people out to get him. Becky quietly sqees everytime that happens, thinking that Anya tells Damian a time and a place for their secret dates this way
- At least once Anya told Damian "Don't think about the red monkey!" and giggled when he failed. He would try to argue that he didn't tho
- "If you're gonna cheat this test off of me - I'm not gonna buy you special peanuts I was planning to >:(" - he thinks in the middle of the exam. He buys her peanuts after tests every time
- When they're alone they have "talks a lot/listens" vibes, but they're actually both talking. Damian is just usually too tired to actually talk and Anya likes to not come up with the excuses to how she guessed what he's thinking everytime
- On that topic, Anya sometimes forgets that people don't know that she's an esper and accidentally anwsers to their thoughts
- Meanwhile Damian forgets that he needs to communicate through words. Audibly
- "Anya is alarmingly perceptive", "Damian isn't much of a talker", nah mate, they just got a little to comfortable with each other
- Damian once thought how cool the newest volume of spy wars was and Anya BEGGED him to stop because she haven't got herself one yet. Damian teaserd her a lot that day.
- "Sy-on boy, why everytime I touch you your thoughts all go "afsgfjdxjkxjxhufcfjkxyjx"?" <- clueless
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Hi I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song False God, I want it to be best friends to lovers, with the miscommunication trope. Like they were best friends and started falling for each other, and try to hide their feelings. Then then after a case they got into an argument, about Lockwood throwing himself in danger again and he kisses her, but she just gets even more confused and mad, she thinks that he only did it because he wanted to distract her from what happened, so she gets even angrier. The argument gets even more heated and they start even yelling at each other, then they stop talking to each other for days, and the reader just has enough and leaves and Anthony is heartbroken, and tries to find a way to get her back. The ending is happy. He gets her back, and they confess to each other.
I'm sorry this is very confusing. You can obviously add more things, so there is the miscommunication trope, and also, so the plot suits the song more. Thank you, you're amazing, I absolutely loved the I can see you fic, and it was everything I hoped for when I requested it.
False God - Lockwood x Reader
A/N: No worries, its not confusing at all! I'm really glad you liked the i can see you fic cuz its one of my favs too!! hope you like this one toooo :) 4k!
She groaned, shifting in her window seat, forehead fused against the window pane. It was too bright to be looking straight ahead at the glowing skyline, so she was staring down at the pavement baking in the sweltering heat. Summer was in full force, and today it took form by enveloping 35 Portland Row and every building in a five-mile radius with its heat. It was too hot to think straight, too hot to do anything but brood and stew in resentment. Even as she unseeingly looked out at the shimmering roads, all she felt was the same agony growing inside of her being reflected back into her eyes. Loving Lockwood truly was a special kind of hell.
It had been a funny sort of week. On Monday, Lockwood had used a napkin to wipe some sugar off her nose after she had bitten into one of Arif's doughnuts, and he looked just as confused as her when he realised what he was doing. On Wednesday's job, she tripped on a loose floorboard so badly that her knees buckled under her, leading to some very ungraceful stumbling in Lockwood's arms, and when she was finally able to find her feet she brushed past him, face beet red, mumbling an apology.
On Thursday, Lockwood was bandaging up a scrape on her wrist, and she had been so transfixed by his swift, confident movements that she hadn't even realised he was done until he snapped the first aid box close. Later that night, while they were scouting out a new location, his fingers drifted on the edge of her bandage occasionally, as if checking to see if it was alright. Part of her love-addled brain couldn't help but hope that he was checking if she was alright. He apologised profusely each time, stepping back in an attempt to at force at least some physical distance between them. She nodded absent-mindedly, trying to soothe the somersaults her stomach made when she felt his rapier-calloused fingers graze her palm.
So when they were dividing themselves up for Friday's case, a part of her knew it wasn't smart to team up with someone in front of whom she became a stuttering, vacant fool. It wasn't that she daydreamed about him or felt butterflies in her stomach, but there was something about him that short-circuited her systems when he got too close. But now, Lockwood looked so cool, so nonchalant. She couldn't avoid him forever. She had to work through whatever this was, and spending time with him was how she was going to do it.
"Yeah, sure, those teams sound great. Lockwood and I together works." But even as she raised her mug to take a sip, she briefly met Lockwood's gaze, and the look in his eyes triggered this sudden vision of the entire mission going up in flames. Her eyes darted away, and when she looked back, he was looking at something on the thinking cloth interestedly. She struggled to take a sip of her tea with the lump in her throat. Must have been a trick of the light. Not that it helped her get it out of her head.
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Lucy and George were starting on the first two floors, so Lockwood and her took the elevator up to the third floor. Two floors away, they could no longer hear George and Lucy's footsteps or voices, as if they were in an entirely different building. They split up, and she was relieved for the distance between them, the chance to finally think straight for a while.
However, they weren't having much luck. She ran her fingers over the walls for what felt like the hundredth time, frowning and straining her ears. Every time she felt like she had just gotten the right focus, Lockwood would shift somewhere behind her and break her concentration.
"Quit it."
"What?"
"The shifting. I can't hear."
"What shifting?"
She pulled her ear from the wall to look at Lockwood and immediately felt her spirits dry up. Lockwood was looking at her questioningly, not far from the position she had left him in, and right behind him was a Spectre a split second away from lunging at Lockwood.
It all happened so fast; even now she wasn't quite sure how she had managed to recover her wits so quickly. She barrelled towards the ghost, fingers closing over Lockwood's bicep as she closed her eyes and thrust her rapier in front of her, hoping her blade met the visitor before she did. There was a hissing sound, and then silence. She opened her eyes to see the Spectre gone, and Lockwood looking as pale and shaken as she felt. His lips quivered, forming amorphous words, and she feared she might break down if she looked at him being vulnerable for too long.
She turned detachedly, sheathing her rapier, considering the objects around them until she found one with overwhelming psychic charge. She pulled out her iron net and draped it over the source, and the temperature went up considerably. By then, Lockwood look mostly alright, if a little nervous.
They returned to the elevator, and as the doors shuddered to a close he tilted his head towards her, coughing awkwardly, though his eyes were still fixed to the floor. "You didn't need to...foolish t-to, what you did there...erm-"
"Lockwood, shut up. I'd die for you." She hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but it made her heart stumble erratically when she saw him sprawled on the floor, moments away from certain death. It made her want to strangle him for being so stupid, then fling her arms around him and hold him close. For so much of her life she had felt like an island, alone and desolate, and she had so little, but Lockwood would forever be something for her to keep, even if it was only all in her head.
She looked up, startled by the dark look in his eyes, rushing to get the words out, but it was a bit too late. "And Lucy. And George." Even she could hear how flimsy that sounded, echoing in the starkly lit rattling elevator. Yes, she would lay her life on the ground for them, but with Lockwood, it was just...different. Anything to do with Lockwood just had to be complicated.
"I know. But still. Thank you."
She gasped, scrambling to her feet, hand clutching the sleeve of his coat before her brain caught up to what she was doing. It was almost comical, the way she had to blink at her hand and Lockwood's face before realising what she had done. She dropped her hand immediately, straightening, but Lockwood's expression didn't change. It was a weird mix of curiosity, contemplation and what looked to be worry. So it hadn't been a trick of the light.
She inhaled, raising her chin to meet his gaze. His eyebrows raised imperceptibly and she felt the air around them shift. She blinked hesitantly, much less confident than she was a few moments ago.
They silently boarded the elevator again, which was miraculously still working, and an uneasy feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. For once, neither of them had made any effort to sweep the electricity between them under the rug, so now it hung in the open, the elephant in the room. It was pure insanity - no, idiocy, to acknowledge the charged air between them. She didn't know about Lockwood, but she was having a hard enough time dealing with the urges that compelled her to run to his side at the first sign of danger.
This was new territory, and these uncharted waters frightened her so. As soon as her attention drifted elsewhere and this tension between them took a backseat, she would look into Lockwood's eyes or feel him brush against her, and she would be certain that it was only a matter of time before she was pulled under. It made her head spin, and yet, she craved it.
Her hand trembled as she pushed her hair back from her eyes, and Lockwood reached out and interlocked her fingers with his own, still staring straight ahead at the dull metal doors. His stoic expression belied the intimacy of the action, and she felt the first strains of annoyance begin to bubble up. How could he just stand there so unaffected, as if he had every right to make her fight for her own breath?
The elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and not a moment too soon. The thick floors had meant that the two groups had no idea what was going on with the other group, and Lucy and George were fighting by the skin of their teeth to stay alive among the hoard of ghosts surrounding them. Lucy was keeping the visitors back while George ducked and rolled around the lobby, frantically looking for sources. Lockwood and her joined Lucy, and soon enough they had the upper hand.
Once the final source was neutralised, they sat in silence, only the sound of them catching their breath filling the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lockwood tugging at his rapier that was somehow embedded in the wall, before he suddenly stilled. He was looking in her direction, a familiar fear clouding his eyes. Somehow, a part of her realised exactly what was happening.
She turned, hand on her rapier, stopping short. She certainly felt the chill, and there seemed to be a haze in the air, but she couldn't quite make out anything tangible. She reached out, almost as if in a trance, before she had the wind knocked out of her.
One minute she was standing, and the next she was lying on the floor, a figure crouching over her, blocking her vision, as if shielding her. A few moments passed before the figure looked up and straightened, kneeling now, light falling on the gaunt face of Lockwood. George was sheepishly holding up a musical box draped in a silver net. "Sorry, missed a source. They should all be gone now."
Lockwood turned back to her, offering a hand to pull her up, but there was this weird sort of static buzzing between her ears now. She propped herself up on her own, shoving him, and walked away fuming while he toppled over in an undignified manner.
Fucking Lockwood.
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The air of the group was fraught with tension on the way back. She signed the report with such force that she ripped a hole in one of them, and she kept rebuffing all of Lockwood's attempts to try to talk to her. Now, they were back at 35 Portland Row. She went straight to the kitchen and started making tea, slamming the drawers, uncommonly violent. Lockwood stood a few feet away from the table, closer to the door, as if furiously working out what exactly he wanted to say to the floor. She saved him the trouble.
"What the hell was that?"
"It was a Phantasm."
"Yeah, I guessed. I mean the part about you rushing in without any equipment."
"I was out of flares and my rapier was stuck. I didn't choose to do that."
"No Lockwood, you did choose. You made that choice when you decided to run in-"
"What the hell was I supposed to do? Watch you get ghost-touched?"
"-throw all caution to the wind, playing the hero-"
"I only play the hero because I have to. You're all my responsibility."
"-because never mind the three people who work in your agency, live in your house, and care so deeply about you that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if you died-"
"So I'm just supposed to stand around and watch the rest of you die?!"
"-but no, the great Anthony Lockwood has bigger plans, like being an absolute - you won't even look at me!"
She sat down at the table, cradling her growing migraine, muttering to herself. "God, I can't talk to you when you're like this."
"Like what?" Lockwood gripped the chair opposite hers aggressively.
"This! You get so-so distant, like you couldn't be more disinterested in other people. In me. You detach yourself and step away and I know it's all a lie." She felt her heart rate further destabilise. "I see it when you look at me, like I'm some fresh, exciting thing to marvel at. You can get mad at me, or hate me, or strangle me, but I never bore you, Lockwood."
He bent forward by two inches, angling her head in his hand, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. It couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but they were both breathless when they broke away, faces no further than a few inches apart. Her rage was barely quelled, if not aggravated. Her face was white with anger. Even now, all he wanted to do was distract her, as if he knew it wouldn't take much. In a brief flicker of panic, a part of her worried that he knew how she felt, that he knew all along, and all of this was some sick game to screw her over. She wanted to smash his facade, watch him come undone the way she was on the inside, goad him into feeling something. "Go on, then. Do it."
"Do what?" Her breathing was uneven. The past few weeks of fleeting stolen glances were bad enough, but with his face so close to hers, she could feel her brain turning into jelly. Part of her knew what she was about to do wasn't fair to him, but their relationship had gone too haywire for her to care. There was nothing fair about the way he consumed her anyways. Whoever said it hadn't loved anybody as hard as she loved Lockwood: nothing is fair in love.
"Get rid of me. Wake up to happier mornings where I'm not around, since I'm such a burden." She wasn't entirely aware of what she was saying, or if she meant it. She was grasping desperately for any respite from the brutal assault of her emotions, so all she could do was the one thing she did best - withdraw. She leaned back, welcoming cool, grounding air into her lungs as her tears threatened to spill over the ruins of their crumbling friendship. It was as though she had been struck for having the sin of hubris, for believing her and Lockwood were built to weather the storms of affection beyond platonic love. "Fire me, whatever. Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? Being all official and important? Because all Anthony Lockwood cares about is being the biggest prat in the room, whether it be by throwing his precious life away-"
"So my life is 'precious', but yours is fair game?"
"I didn't say that!"
"You didn't NEED TO!" Lockwood was gripping the chair so tightly he looked just about ready to smash it into bits. He took a few ragged breaths, as if physically trying to control his emotions. "Words only express so much-"
"But they express just enough for you, don't they?" she said bitterly. He set his jaw, hardening against the venom of her words. She placed a hand on her forehead weakly, stumbling out of the kitchen up to the attic. There she sat now, cynically judging the trees for being too green.
Over the next few days, she stayed in the attic, forcing down morsels of the food Lucy brought up to her, preferring to communicate non-verbally. After three days, she began to feel as cold and long-forgotten as that tea she was in the middle of making that day. She watched them gear up and lug their equipment into cabs from the window, but none did so as resolutely or with as much mechanical efficiency as Lockwood. She missed them, she missed working, but she wasn't about to go running down the stairs to Lockwood's room, begging for forgiveness. No; she had more pride than that.
Instead, she wiled away the hours staring at the clock and then staring out the window, until her eyes ached. It was so hot, time seemed to be slowing to a stop. The seconds hand ticked occasionally, when it felt like it, and her shirt plastered itself on her back. The heat was so oppressive and glued her eyelids shut, and it felt as though the whole room was submerged in molasses. It just wasn't the right kind of weather to reconcile.
Occasionally, her thoughts drifted to when she first joined the agency, and the words of advice Lucy had given her. "Lockwood, er, he's hard to read," she had said. "Best to leave him to it, most of the time. It takes a special kind of trust to really get to know him. You need a lot of blind faith, and it's certainly not easy terrain...but I think it's all worth it in the end."
Still, she couldn't live at the window forever. Which is why she went down to the kitchen after a fitful sleep on the third night, gingerly choking down some toast, when the rest returned from the job. Lucy hugged her from behind and George immediately set out four cups as he started to brew some tea. Despite all that, Lockwood still regarded her as stiffly as before, speaking into the distance rather than to her.
"I'm not going to fire you, if that's what you're waiting for."
In that moment, when Lockwood disowned any kind of feeling for her yet again, the last vestiges of her hope slipped away. She thought she knew him. Hell, she thought she loved him. But life was full of mistakes and disappointments, and this was yet another she had to contend with. "Fine. I quit."
Even Lockwood was momentarily stunned as she slipped past him up to the attic, blurrily throwing in anything that looked vaguely like hers into a her bags. Lucy had followed her, trying to talk some sense into her, but it all fell on deaf ears. Only George was in the kitchen by the time she was done packing, and he looked oddly forlorn as he waved at her distractedly. The door to the library was open as she shouldered past the memories of the life they had on her way to the front door. Lockwood was in his chair facing the fireplace, back to the door, glaring a hole into his book, looking as furious as she was just a few days ago.
She didn't have anything to say to him, which was just as well, because he clearly didn't have anything to say to her. She stepped out into the night, twisting sprigs of lavender in her hair, walking off into the night. George came up to the library, sighing loudly at the door, and Lockwood jerked up irritatedly.
"What?"
"Couldn't wait till after tea, could you?"
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Three weeks later, her memories of the three of them were more diluted than she would have liked. With the little savings she had, she managed to rent a cramped apartment which didn't leave much room for decoration, which was just as well, as she didn't have many mementos. She wasn't the best at preserving memories, so all she had were some odd photos on the few times she remembered her camera.
Lockwood was in the pictures too. As hard as she tried, she couldn't just cut him and his presence out of her life; they were too irrevocably tied together. Some nights, before sleeping, she would trace the outline of his face on the one focused photograph she had of him, and wonder if she'd still recognise his voice. In spite of herself, she wondered if he ever thought about her the way she dreamt about him.
The summer heat faded, and these days rain drizzled from the sky like a leaky tap. In her case, that also meant a leaking roof, and the constant drip of the water into the bucket drove her nuts. It was the little things like the leaking roof and the refrigerator with a loud hum that never allowed her to truly rest, always kept her on the edge, that made her new life distinctly more uncomfortable than her old.
She heard a faint disjointed knock on her door. She opened the door to see a gaunt and wane Lockwood, significantly paler than she remembered. She was speechless, not quite sure what to do, and he just seemed relieved enough to see her in person. He still stood the same way he did when meeting new clients, with an air of formality, and she half-expected him to shake her hand. Instead, he pulled her into a hug; a proper one, where his arms went all the way around her. The kind of hug that made you want to cry.
She gripped the sleeve of his coat not unlike the way she did all those weeks ago, and she was suddenly aware of how little the weeks passed meant. Nothing had changed between them, except for this deep yearning tainting the fervour of their grip on each other. He still felt this need to protect her but sucked at communicating, she still reached out to him instinctively in danger but yelled at him for not putting himself first. Strife and misunderstandings were still rife in their relationship, but she had never missed fighting and loving someone the way she had missed Lockwood.
"I'm sorry," he was mumbling into her hair. "I don't know why it took me so long to realise you felt the same way I did. I guess we just express fear in different ways."
"You always were slow."
He pulled back, softly smiling in a way that erased some of his wrinkles. But the smile slipped away, and she felt the worry tugging down the corners of his mouth. "It's just...I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know how to express it all the time so sometimes it just feels easier to convince myself it's not there. But it Smooths things over, you know?" He inhaled shakily, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. She could feel how hard it was for him to admit all this. "I felt it most when you were gone. It...it weighed on my mind. Never let me be fully at peace." His lips quirked into a small smile. "Much like you. I'd do anything for you, and I think that scares me."
"It scares me too. I guess the only way I could think of handling it was proving you were more scared than me. As if that would somehow make me strong and not...weak. Or vulnerable." She sighed, as if all the exhaustion of the past few weeks had all caught up to her in this very moment. "You make me crumble, Lockwood, but I've never felt stronger."
His eyes unfocused as his hand on her cheekbone slipped. "What if I can't protect you? What if I can't drive away every single visitor in time? What if you get hurt? How do people live like this?"
She held his hands, stopping his spiral. "I think I have enough experience driving away people who are more than a little obsessed with me."
He laughed, pulling her into a hug. What once felt overstimulating was now oddly comforting. The beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breath, the vibrations of his laughter...she wanted to feel that every day for the rest of her life.
"What I did...it really was different. You do realise that, right?"
"Yes."
"I had my rapier with me."
"You did."
"You didn't have anything."
"Hmm, I panicked." He continued hastily under her stern gaze. "What I mean is, I will try to be more careful. Promise." He put on his most angelic expression. She rolled her eyes. She took his hand as they stepped out in the final drops of summer rain. Life together wasn't always going to be smooth-sailing, or even remotely manageable, but she had a feeling that they would be alright.
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