#i must ask queue a question | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gremlingottoosilly · 2 years ago

Text

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

14K notes · View notes

suturcd · 2 years ago

Text

@66yfze said: “I don’t need their names. The world doesn’t need to know their names. These fools wanted notoriety and I’m going to make damn sure they never get it.” i know their tea spilling sessions crazy...

BONES (SERIES) SENTENCE STARTERS // accepting.

Fran is reminded anew of the double-edged sword that is capturing Melone's attention. Her gaze lifts from the splay of medical textbooks in front of her to the swift, borderline-vindictive flash of his fingers jabbing at the keys. She cannot put a name to the tight line of his mouth, but it's as sharp as the gleam to his more visible eye as he speaks, zeroed in on the screen.

Frankly, she isn't sure how to respond. Fran has long-since approached the anger within Passione as a bomb to either be defused or swiftly distanced from, depending on the situation. There are times when Fran can calibrate a matter-of-fact statement that jabs just so at someone’s pride to cow the raging, grandstanding bulls of the gang's lower ranks without redirecting their ire to her, but someone like Melone is another beast entirely, and one unlikely to fall to the sort of infighting the less specialized ranks are prone to. Melone has a certain stability--at least within his squad, from what limited understanding she’s gleaned from some sparse interaction. This means that she needs to approach his laser-focus with caution so as not to ally herself against it. If she does, Melone will remember it. Frankly, it might already be problem enough that I’m memorable to him at all, but we've already crossed that bridge...

"...Mhh. You're right that for people like that, the greatest indignity is death without legacy. An irrelevant existence..." She thumbs absently at her page, smoothing and straightening an errant sticky-note attached to the side, then closes it completely. She preoccupies herself for a few moments with stacking the books from largest to shortest, aligning them just so as she mulls over how to word what she's about to say. "...There have been plenty of fringe groups like that, though, and they usually burn out on their own since they lack strong hierarchy or structure. I have to wonder what this group in particular did to make you so interested, Mr. Melone...” So I can avoid it, myself.

"...Well, it's not like you have to answer me, since it's none of my business."

#ic.#ic askmemes.#66yfze #fran interacting with melone every time like PLEASE believe i am boring it's so true. let's keep the conversation on you.#she cannot stop asking him questions though. fran-melone weird coworkers dynamic is just both of them being like #weird creature i MUST study you.#or something.dkfsghkdshgkl #this has been in my drafts for months and i haven't figured out what i want to add or remove here so. i will just put it out as is dkhgfkls #queue.

0 notes

kaiyunsim · 5 months ago

Text

just a boy —

pairing : fuckboy!jay x gn!reader

summary : you meet jay at a party where you reject him after making a move… he likes it when they play hard to get.

warnings : angst, fluff, more angst than fluff tbh, uni au, reader is a freshman, jay is older, featuring heeseung + jake, jisung from nct, and minju from illit

a/n : omg fun to write is actually an understatement. i hope it turned out fun to read :) also for my pookie @writhyv

queueing : just a boy - alaina castillo,

— wc : 6.6 — not proof read —

you don't really care about parties. they're loud, crowded, and always filled with people trying too hard. but minju drags you along anyway, insisting that you need to "experience the university nightlife" at least once.

"come on, it'll be fun," she says, looping her arm through yours. "plus, jisung bailed on me, and i am not third-wheeling jake and his situationship all night."

so now you're here, standing awkwardly in the corner of a frat house, gripping a red solo cup filled with something that smells suspiciously like gasoline. minju is already off somewhere, talking to a girl from her english class, and you're left to watch as people dance, drink, and make questionable decisions.

"you look miserable," a voice says from beside you.

you turn and come face to face with park jongseong, jay, as everyone calls him. you know his name, even if you've never spoken before. he's older, popular, and has a reputation that follows him everywhere he goes.

flirt. player. fuckboy.

minju has warned you about him. "he's hot, yeah, but he's the kind of guy who doesn't do relationships. he flirts, hooks up, and moves on. trust me, i've seen it happen."

but none of that matters, because you have no plans to entertain him.

jay grins at you, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. he's got that easy confidence, the kind that comes with knowing he's attractive and that people want him.

"not a fan of parties?" he asks, tilting his head.

you shrug. "not really."

he chuckles. "then why are you here?"

"minju."

his eyebrows raise slightly. "you know minju?"

"from high school." you say, keeping your answers short.

"interesting," he muses, eyes scanning your face like he's trying to place you somewhere in his memory. he doesn't seem to recognize you, though, which isn't surprising. you've never exactly run in the same circles.

"so," he says, shifting closer. "wanna dance?"

it's not a question, not really. it's the kind of offer people don't usually refuse, not when it comes from him. jay park doesn't get turned down.

but you just blink at him and say, "no, thanks."

his smile falters, just for a second, before he recovers. "really? you sure? i promise i'm a good dancer."

"i'm sure." you say with a fake smile, giving off the vibe that you’re annoyed

he lets out a soft laugh, like he can't believe you're actually rejecting him. his ego must be bruised, but he hides it well, still looking at you with interest.

"alright," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "then how about a drink? i can get you something better than… whatever that is." he nods at your cup.

"i'm good."

"wow," he murmurs, shaking his head in amusement. "you're really not making this easy for me, huh?"

"should i?"

he grins, running a hand through his dark hair. "most people do."

"well, i'm not most people."

jay studies you for a moment, like he's trying to figure out why you're different. why you're not reacting the way everyone else does. you don't bat your lashes at him, don't giggle or play into his flirting. and for some reason, instead of turning him away, it only seems to intrigue him more.

"i like you," he says suddenly.

you roll your eyes. "you don't even know me."

"not yet," he agrees, "but i’d like to."

there's something almost playful in his voice, but you know better. jay isn’t interested in getting to know people. he's interested in chasing, in winning. and right now, you’re just another game to him.

"keep liking me from a distance," you say, brushing past him.

you don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

for the first time in his life, park jongseong has been rejected. and somehow, you think that only makes him more determined.

—

you don't think much about your encounter with jay. to you, it was just another conversation at a party, one you barely wanted to be at in the first place.

but apparently, jay thinks otherwise.

it starts with small things.

you see him at the campus café, where he just so happens to show up right behind you in line.

"oh, hey," he says casually, as if running into you is pure coincidence.

you glance at him, unimpressed. "hey."

"what are you getting?"

you turn back to the menu. "haven't decided."

"let me guess," he hums, tapping a finger against his chin like he's solving some great mystery. "you seem like a caramel macchiato kind of person."

you raise a brow. "what does that even mean?"

jay grins, leaning in slightly. "sweet, but a little bitter if you get on their bad side."

"so basically, you're guessing."

"i call it an educated guess," he says, nodding at the cashier. "get one. my treat."

"no, thanks."

he lets out a dramatic sigh. "you really don't like accepting things from me, huh?"

"nope."

instead of looking discouraged, jay just watches as you place your order, an iced americano, completely different from what he guessed.

he chuckles. "so i was way off."

"yup."

you take your drink and leave without another word. jay doesn’t follow, but you swear you feel his stare on your back as you walk away.

it keeps happening.

and then, one afternoon, you’re sitting under a tree, trying to get through an assignment, when someone drops into the grass beside you.

"you always look so serious," jay muses.

you don’t even glance up. "because i'm trying to focus."

"right, right." he leans back on his hands. "but don't you ever take a break?"

"nope."

"come on," he nudges your knee with his. "five minutes won't kill you."

you sigh, finally looking at him. "do you need something?"

jay flashes you that same easy grin, the one that probably gets him whatever he wants. "just your company."

"i think you’ll survive without it."

he clutches his chest dramatically. "ouch. you wound me."

"you’ll live."

jay just laughs, shaking his head. "you know, you’re making this really difficult."

"making what difficult?"

"getting to know you."

"who said i wanted you to?"

he stares at you for a moment, eyes glinting with something unreadable. then, instead of answering, he stands up and dusts himself off.

"alright," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "guess i’ll try again tomorrow."

before you can process his words, he's already walking away.

"okay, what is going on?" minju asks a few days later, sliding into the seat across from you in the dining hall.

"what do you mean?"

she gestures dramatically. "you and jay. he keeps staring at you. he keeps showing up wherever you are."

"it's just a coincidence."

"coincidence my ass," she huffs. "he’s interested."

"interested in what? flirting with someone who doesn’t want to flirt back?"

"exactly!" minju exclaims. "he's never been rejected before! you’re like. like. his first loss."

"not a loss," you correct. "just… not a win."

"same thing in his mind." she leans in, eyes narrowing. "be honest. do you like him?"

you snort. "no."

"not even a little?"

"minju, he flirts with anything that breathes."

"true," she concedes, stabbing a piece of her salad. "but he’s never tried this hard before."

you roll your eyes. "and that’s exactly why i’m not interested. he only wants what he can’t have."

"so you think if you gave in, he’d lose interest?"

"obviously. but it’s not like i want him to be interested in the first place,”

but what you don’t see is jay, sitting at another table with jake and heeseung, watching you from across the room.

"so," heeseung says, "still trying?"

jay sips his drink, not looking away. "yup."

jake shakes his head, laughing. "dude, you're obsessed."

"i'm not obsessed," jay scoffs. "i'm just… interested."

heeseung raises a brow. "in what? winning?"

jay pauses. that should be the answer. that’s how it always is. he flirts, he wins, he moves on. but this time, it feels different.

"i dunno," he mutters, eyes still locked on you. "but i wanna find out."

and just like that, park jongseong makes it his mission to make you fall for him.

whether you want to or not.

—

you’re starting to think the universe has a cruel sense of humor.

there’s no other explanation for why jay park keeps showing up everywhere you go.

first, it’s the café… again. you stop by for your usual iced americano, and there he is, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. when he sees you, his lips curl into a smirk.

"you stalking me now?" he teases.

you blink at him. "this is literally my usual spot."

"yeah?" he muses, stepping aside so you can order. "funny. seems like it’s mine now too."

you ignore him and pay for your drink, but as you turn to leave, he suddenly holds out a muffin. "here."

you frown. "what is this?"

"peace offering," he says. "for annoying you so much."

"i don't want it."

jay tuts, shaking his head. "harsh. you don’t like sweets?"

"i don’t like you."

he laughs, completely unbothered. "that’s not true. you just won’t admit you think i’m funny."

you roll your eyes and walk past him, but not before he calls out, "see you around!"

unfortunately, he’s right.

the second time, it’s the library.

you’re sitting at a table, halfway through an essay, when someone slides into the seat across from you.

you don’t need to look up. "seriously?"

jay rests his chin on his palm, grinning. "seriously."

"do you even study?"

"i do now." he gestures to his laptop, which, sure enough, is open.

you sigh and turn back to your work, ignoring him completely. for the first ten minutes, he’s quiet, and you start to think maybe—just maybe—he’s actually here to study.

but then he leans forward. "you always this focused?"

"yes."

"cute," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

you finally look at him, unimpressed. "why are you here?"

"what, a guy can’t expand his knowledge?"

"you haven’t typed a single word."

jay glances at his screen, where his essay is blank. he shrugs. "i’m thinking."

"about what?"

"about how long it’s gonna take for you to admit you like having me around."

you let out a slow breath, standing up and gathering your things. "good luck with that."

"where you going?"

"somewhere quiet."

jay watches you leave, the smirk never leaving his face.

you think that’s the end of it.

until your professor assigns a group project.

"you’ll be working in pairs," she says. "check the list for your partner."

you scan the names, looking for yours, and freeze.

park jongseong.

"you’ve got to be kidding me," you mutter.

"what?" minju asks, peering over your shoulder. then she snorts. "oh. wow. the universe really has it out for you."

you groan, dropping your head onto the desk.

"who’d you get?"

you glance up to see jisung standing beside you, holding his own paper.

"jay," minju answers for you.

jisung grimaces. "yikes."

"yep."

before you can say anything else, someone taps your shoulder.

"guess we’re partners," jay says, voice far too amused.

you sigh. "don’t remind me.”

—

working with jay is… not as painful as you expected.

you still don’t like him. obviously. but he’s not completely useless.

turns out, he’s actually smart. and organized. he doesn’t slack off or make you do all the work. and—annoyingly—he’s kind of funny.

you realize this when you’re both at the library, bouncing ideas off each other.

"okay, so we could go with this topic," you say, scrolling through the research.

jay hums. "or we could pick something that won’t make me want to throw myself off a building."

you bite back a smile. "dramatic much?"

"you’re underestimating my ability to get bored."

"i think that’s just your problem."

jay gasps, placing a hand over his chest. "ouch. i thought we were bonding."

"we’re working."

"same thing."

you shake your head, but you don’t argue.

slowly, things shift.

you still tell yourself that jay is just playing a game. but sometimes, you catch him looking at you—really looking—and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like one.

like when you’re at the library, and you yawn without thinking.

"tired?" he asks.

"obviously."

without a word, he slides his drink toward you.

you blink. "what—"

"it’s an americano," he says simply.

you hesitate, then take a sip. "it’s sweet."

jay shrugs. "i like sugar."

you give him a look. "so you were way off when you guessed my order last time."

he grins. "guess so."

you shake your head, but you don’t push the drink back.

—

"okay, so he’s not the worst person alive," you admit later.

minju stares at you. "who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

"i’m serious," you say. "he’s… fine. actually kind of helpful."

minju sighs. "that’s how it starts."

"how what starts?"

"you start thinking he’s not that bad. then, before you know it, you’re catching feelings."

"i’m not catching anything."

she gives you a look. "just be careful, okay? he’s only this persistent because you’re the first person to say no."

you nod, but her words stick in your head.

you tell yourself you don’t care.

but then one night, you’re leaving the library, and jay is waiting outside.

"walking alone at this hour?" he muses. "dangerous."

you raise an eyebrow. "and you’re what? my bodyguard?"

jay smirks. "i could be."

"no thanks."

"still," he says, falling into step beside you. "i’ll walk you back."

"you don’t have to."

"i know."

you sigh, but you let him.

the walk is quiet, save for the sound of your footsteps. when you reach your building, you stop.

"this is me," you say.

jay nods. "guess i’ll see you tomorrow."

"guess so."

he hesitates, then lifts a hand, ruffling your hair before you can react.

you blink. "what the—"

he just grins. "goodnight."

then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heart doing something it definitely shouldn’t be doing.

this is bad.

really bad.

—

the next party is loud, too loud. music shakes the floor, conversations overlap, and the air is thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. you don’t even know why you’re here.

well. you do.

minju dragged you out, saying you’ve been too cooped up with schoolwork and your stupid group project (which, unfortunately, includes jay park). jisung backed her up, insisting you needed to “socialize like a normal human being.”

so now you’re here, standing in the corner of someone’s crowded apartment, gripping a half-empty cup of soda because you don’t drink, and pretending you’re interested in whatever minju is talking about.

until you see him.

jay.

you tell yourself you shouldn’t be surprised. parties are his thing, after all. loud music, dim lighting, a sea of people who’d fall into his arms without hesitation.

he fits right in.

too well.

you spot him across the room, leaning against the wall, that lazy smirk on his lips. there’s a girl beside him, standing too close, laughing at something he just said. she tilts her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. jay doesn’t move away.

he says something else, something that makes her giggle, and then he leans in,,, just a little.

your stomach twists.

it’s stupid. so, so stupid.

this is what he does. this is who he is. he flirts with everyone. you’ve seen it before. you knew this about him before he even knew your name.

but tonight, it bothers you.

you don’t know why, and you don’t want to think about it.

"you okay?" minju asks, nudging your arm.

"yeah," you say too quickly. "just… tired."

she eyes you but doesn’t press. "wanna leave soon?"

you nod. "yeah."

but before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you.

"hey," a familiar voice says.

you turn, and there he is.

jay.

his smirk is gone.

"what do you want?" you ask, not in the mood for whatever game he’s playing tonight.

he hesitates, glancing at minju, then back at you. "can we talk?"

"no."

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "please?"

minju looks between the two of you, then slowly backs away. "i’ll be over there," she says, pointing to jisung.

you cross your arms. "what?"

jay doesn’t answer right away. instead, he exhales, then jerks his head toward the door. "outside?"

you should say no. you should walk away. but there’s something in his eyes, something that makes your chest feel too tight, so you follow him out.

the cool night air is a relief against your heated skin. outside, the noise is muffled, distant, like the party belongs to a different world.

you stop a few steps away from the door, crossing your arms. "well?"

jay shoves his hands into his pockets. "you looked upset."

you scoff. "why do you care?"

"because," he says, stepping closer, "i do."

you laugh, but it’s humorless. "you flirt with someone else, then come running after me? what is this, jay?"

his jaw tightens. "it’s not like that."

"really? because it sure as hell looked like it."

"you think i do this with everyone?" his voice is sharper now, frustration leaking through. "yeah, i flirt, but this,whatever this is, is different, and you know it."

your breath catches.

different.

he said it first.

but that doesn’t change anything.

"do i?" you challenge. "because it looks exactly the same to me."

jay groans, running a hand through his hair. "i didn’t even realize what i was doing."

"that’s not making this better."

"i know!" he snaps. "i just—fuck."

he exhales, tilting his head back like he’s trying to find the right words in the sky. then, softer, he says, "it’s a habit, okay? flirting, keeping things surface-level. that’s just how i’ve always been."

you swallow, suddenly unsure. "then why are you here?"

jay takes another step forward, close enough that you can see the tension in his shoulders, the crease in his brows.

"because i don’t want this to be surface-level," he admits. "not with you."

the words knock the air out of your lungs.

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then you say, "so what? you want me to believe that you’re suddenly different?"

"i don’t know," he admits. "but i know i don’t want to fuck this up."

you stare at him, at the raw honesty in his expression.

this is dangerous territory.

you should walk away.

you don’t.

but then you think about that girl inside, the way he leaned in so easily, the way it took him this long to come after you.

"you say that," you murmur, voice quieter now, "but you still went back to your usual thing the second i wasn’t around."

jay flinches.

"it didn’t mean anything," he says, quickly, desperately. "i wasn’t even thinking about her."

"exactly," you say bitterly. "you weren’t thinking at all."

jay opens his mouth, then closes it.

"you don’t even realize what you’re doing," you continue, voice tight. "you don’t realize how easily you slip into old habits. you say this is different, but are you sure?"

"yes," jay says, without hesitation.

you laugh, but it’s broken. "then why do i feel like i’m just setting myself up to get hurt?"

he doesn’t have an answer for that.

silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating.

jay looks like he wants to say something, to fix this somehow, but what is there to fix? he’s still the same jay park who flirts with everyone, who doesn’t think before he acts, who only realizes too late that he might actually care.

"you’re not ready for this," you whisper.

"i am," he insists, but there’s something fragile in his voice, something that tells you even he isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth.

you shake your head. "i don’t think you are."

jay reaches out, just a little, like he wants to touch you, like he wants you to stay.

but you step back.

his hand drops.

and with that, you turn around and walk away.

jay doesn’t call after you.

he doesn’t chase you this time.

and maybe that tells you everything you need to know.

—

you avoid him.

it’s not hard at first. you’re in different years, different circles. you stop going to the café where you know he likes to hang out between classes, ignore the parties minju tries to drag you to, and duck your head whenever you spot him on campus.

the only problem is that jay notices.

you’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, jay park—fuckboy, campus heartbreaker, the guy who shouldn’t care—is suddenly watching you.

you feel it in the way his eyes linger too long when you pass by in the hallway, in the way his conversations falter when you’re around, in the way his whole demeanor shifts whenever you deliberately turn away.

he doesn’t chase after you.

but he’s not ignoring it, either.

and that’s what makes it worse.

it would be easier if he didn’t care, if he went right back to flirting with someone else like nothing ever happened. but he doesn’t.

and that terrifies you.

so you run faster.

"okay, what is wrong with you?"

jay exhales sharply, gripping the pool cue tighter. "nothing."

"bullshit."

heeseung snatches the stick out of his hands before he can even attempt a shot. jay scowls, reaching for it, but heeseung just leans away.

"bro, you’ve been in the worst mood for, like, a week," jake says, spinning an unmarked beer bottle between his fingers. "just admit it."

jay glares. "admit what?"

heeseung rolls his eyes. "that you’re being a little bitch about this whole thing."

jay scoffs. "about what?"

"oh my god," jake groans. "are you in denial, or just stupid?"

jay clenches his jaw. "neither."

heeseung and jake share a look, and jay hates that they’re silently communicating in that annoying, knowing way that only best friends do.

"listen," heeseung starts, "you don’t do feelings. we get it. but this? whatever’s happening between you and—"

"don’t say their name," jay mutters, looking away.

heeseung smirks. "oh, so you do care?"

jay exhales, tilting his head back against the worn leather of the booth.

fuck.

he doesn’t know what this is.

he just knows that it sucks.

he didn’t think avoiding them would be a big deal. people walk away from him all the time, sometimes before he can even do it first.

but this?

this feels different.

it feels like something is missing. like something is slipping through his fingers and he’s too fucking slow to catch it.

"you don’t even like people," jake points out.

jay sighs. "i like you guys."

"yeah, but we don’t count," heeseung snorts. "we’re basically required to deal with your bullshit."

jay scoffs, shoving his shoulder, but heeseung just grins.

then, quieter, he says, "this is the first time you’ve actually looked miserable over someone."

jay doesn’t answer.

"so what are you gonna do about it?" jake asks.

jay exhales, drumming his fingers against the table.

he doesn’t know.

but he knows he can’t keep pretending this is nothing.

not anymore.

—

you don’t know why you look.

it’s just a normal afternoon. you’re heading toward the library, minju walking beside you, talking about something jisung said earlier.

and then you see him.

jay is standing near the campus courtyard, golden light catching the sharp edges of his jawline. he’s not alone.

there’s a girl with him. she’s standing close—too close. her hand is on his arm, fingers curling lightly around the sleeve of his jacket. she laughs at something he says, head tilting, eyes locked on his.

and jay?

jay just smiles.

it’s the same smile you’ve seen before, the same effortless charm, the same easy confidence that has made him a campus legend. he leans in slightly, talking low, his posture relaxed like he’s done this a thousand times.

because he has.

your chest tightens.

"hey, you okay?" minju asks beside you, nudging your arm.

you snap your gaze away, pulse quickening. you shouldn’t care. you knew what he was like before you even met him. you knew he flirted with anyone he found attractive, that he never had to try, that he never faced rejection.

you knew he was never meant to be serious.

so why does it feel like something inside you is caving in?

"yeah," you mumble. "just remembered something i have to do."

minju frowns, but you don’t give her a chance to question it. before she can say anything, you turn and walk the other way, ignoring the burning feeling in your chest.

you don’t look back.

and jay doesn’t notice you leaving.

yet, jay can tell something’s wrong.

he doesn’t know what it is, but he can feel it.

it’s in the way you won’t look at him, the way you walk past him like he’s just another face in the crowd.

at first, he thinks he’s imagining it. you were never friends to begin with—maybe you were just busy, maybe this is normal.

but the shift is undeniable.

before, you’d at least acknowledge him. you’d give him a polite nod, a passing glance, sometimes even a subtle eyeroll when you caught him flirting.

now?

nothing.

he sees you on campus, and you don’t even flinch.

he walks past your usual café, and you’re not there.

he catches you in the library and for a second. just a second. he swears you meet his gaze.

but then you turn away.

like he’s not even there.

he doesn’t plan to confront you.

but after a week of this, of whatever this is, he finds himself standing outside your dorm, hands shoved in his pockets, frustration bubbling under his skin.

he doesn’t even know why he’s here.

it’s not like you owe him anything.

but still, he knocks.

no answer.

he exhales sharply, rocking back on his heels, debating whether to try again.

then, he hears footsteps.

"what are you doing here?"

jay turns, finding jisung standing a few feet away, arms crossed.

"looking for y/n," jay says. "they’ve been… acting weird."

jisung raises an eyebrow. "and you just noticed?"

jay frowns. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

jisung exhales, shaking his head. "they saw you," he says simply.

jay’s stomach tightens. "...what?"

"the other day. in the courtyard. with that girl."

jay blinks, the memory slotting into place. shit.

"they saw you smiling at her," jisung continues, his voice even but firm. "letting her touch you. looking at her the way they thought—" he stops himself, sighing. "never mind."

jay’s pulse kicks up. "you think they—"

"they think they were stupid for believing you might actually be different with them," jisung cuts in, sharper now. "they think they almost fell for the same bullshit you pull on everyone else."

jay clenches his jaw.

fuck.

he wasn’t thinking. he didn’t even realize.

but now, remembering the moment, the way the girl had laughed, the way she had leaned in, the way he hadn’t pulled away—

he understands.

and it feels like he just lost something important without even knowing he had it.

"if you’re gonna say something, make it worth their time," jisung says. "because right now? they don’t want anything to do with you."

jay doesn’t answer.

because for the first time in his life, he’s the one who got it wrong.

he’s the one who let something real slip through his fingers.

and he has no idea how to fix it.

but he knows one thing—

he has to try.

—

you don’t expect him to be waiting for you.

it’s late. you just finished a study session with minju, and all you want is to go back to your dorm, crawl under the covers, and forget about everything—forget about him.

but as soon as you step into the dimly lit hallway leading to your room, you see him.

jay.

leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes dark with something unreadable.

your heart stutters.

you hesitate, debating whether to turn around, pretend you didn’t see him. but then he looks up—really looks at you—and you know there’s no escape.

"we need to talk," he says, pushing off the wall.

fuck jisung for letting him in.

"i don’t think we do," you mutter, stepping past him, reaching for your door.

but before you can, jay moves, his hand catching your wrist—gently, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

"please," he says.

you freeze.

he’s never said please before. at least, not like this. not as desperate as this.

slowly, you turn to face him, sighing. "jay—"

"just let me say this," he cuts in, eyes burning with something raw, something you’ve never seen on him before. desperation.

you press your lips together but nod.

jay exhales, running a hand through his hair. "i—fuck, i don’t know how to do this," he mutters, shaking his head. "i’m not good at this."

"then don’t," you say, voice sharper than you intended. "don’t stand here and feed me some excuse about how you 'don’t do relationships' or 'didn’t mean to hurt me.' i don’t want to hear it."

jay flinches. "that’s not what i was gonna say."

you cross your arms. "then what?"

he swallows hard, eyes flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. "i—i don’t know how to do this, because i’ve never felt like this before."

your breath catches.

"i didn’t even realize what i was doing," jay continues, voice quieter now. "i didn’t think. i’ve never had to. flirting, messing around—it’s just… easy. but you—" he exhales sharply. "you make things different."

you shake your head. "jay—"

"i don’t want anyone else," he interrupts, stepping closer, voice steady. "just you."

your chest tightens.

"and when you get bored?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "when someone new comes along?"

jay shakes his head immediately. "i don’t think i could ever get bored of you."

it’s too much.

too much to believe, too much to trust, too much to risk.

"how am i supposed to believe that?" you ask, eyes searching his face. "how am i supposed to believe you won’t wake up one day and decide i was just another name on your list?"

jay exhales, stepping even closer, until there’s barely any space between you. "because no one’s ever made me feel like this before."

your pulse is loud in your ears.

"i don’t know how to do relationships," he admits, voice low, honest. "i don’t know how to be what you deserve. but i want to try. i want to figure it out—with you."

he’s so close now. close enough that you can smell the faint scent of his cologne, close enough that you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the fear of being rejected, of losing you.

you shouldn’t.

you should walk away.

you should protect yourself, guard your heart, not fall for the one person who could break you the easiest.

but then jay reaches up, fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch hesitant, almost trembling.

"please," he murmurs, his voice almost breaking.

jay park—unshakable, confident, the fuckboy—is breaking in front of you.

and against all logic, all reason—you fall.

before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you close the space between you.

his breath catches, just for a second, before his lips press against yours, warm and desperate.

jay kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like he’s trying to prove every word he just said. his hands cup your face, pulling you closer, holding you like you’re something fragile—something precious.

and when you kiss him back, letting yourself believe—just for this moment—that maybe, just maybe, this could be real, he sighs against your lips, like he’s just found something he’s been searching for all along.

—

your relationship with jay park is different.

you knew it wouldn’t be easy, falling for someone who never had to try, who never had to work for love. but you never expected this.

never expected him to try so hard.

at first, it’s awkward. jay doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s used to effortless flirting, meaningless hookups, relationships that start and end in the span of a night.

but with you?

he wants to be better. he wants to be different.

so he does things he’s never done before.

he waits for you after class, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"did you eat?" he asks one day, falling into step beside you.

you blink. "uh… yeah?"

jay nods, looking relieved. "okay. cool. just—yeah. cool."

he’s awkward. jay park, campus fuckboy, the smooth talker who never falters, is awkward.

you bite back a smile. "did you eat?"

he hesitates.

you raise an eyebrow. "jay."

he clears his throat. "…no."

you sigh, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him toward the campus café. he lets you, grinning like you just gave him the world.

the first time he reaches for your hand, it’s so casual that you almost miss it.

you’re sitting next to each other, watching a movie in the dorm common room. your hand rests between you, fingers brushing against his.

then, slowly, hesitantly, jay links his pinky with yours.

your heart stutters.

you glance at him, but he’s staring straight at the screen, his jaw tight, his ears slightly red.

you bite your lip.

then, without a word, you let your fingers slip fully into his.

jay stiffens for half a second. then, his grip tightens, and he exhales, shoulders relaxing.

he doesn’t let go for the rest of the movie.

he’s not used to jealousy.

or rather, he’s not used to his own jealousy.

he’s seen people get possessive over him before, watched girls glare when he flirted with someone new, felt the heat of their disappointment when they realized he wasn’t theirs.

but now?

now he understands.

he understands because he’s standing in the middle of campus, watching some guy—some random guy—smile at you like he has a chance.

and jay hates it.

he crosses the distance before he can think, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

"hey, baby," he murmurs, voice low, casual, possessive.

your eyes widen. "jay?"

"who’s this?" jay asks, looking at the guy.

the guy blinks, glancing between the two of you. "uh, just—just a classmate."

jay smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "cool. yeah. we gotta go, though."

you barely have time to say goodbye before jay is leading you away, his grip firm but gentle.

once you’re out of earshot, you elbow him. "what was that?"

jay shrugs. "didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

you roll your eyes. "you can’t just—"

he stops walking, turning to face you, eyes serious. "i know i don’t have the right," he admits. "but i don’t like it. i don’t like the idea of someone else thinking they can have you."

your breath catches.

"you’re mine," jay says, voice softer now. "right?"

you stare at him for a moment.

then, finally, you sigh, reaching up to flick his forehead.

"yeah," you mutter. "i’m yours."

jay grins, rubbing his forehead. "damn right."

heeseung and jake pretend to be disgusted.

"you’re whipped," jake says, shaking his head.

"nah, man, this is worse than we thought," heeseung adds. "he’s holding hands in public."

jay glares at them from across the table, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

"you guys are just mad i have a functional love life," he says.

jake snorts. "yeah, sure. functional."

"bet he calls them ‘baby’ over text," heeseung whispers loudly.

jake gasps. "you think he—"

"shut up," jay groans.

you’re trying not to laugh. "do you?"

jay glares at you, but his ears are red. "i hate you."

you grin. "you love me."

jay rolls his eyes.

but then, under the table, he gives your hand a squeeze.

and you know—

even if he’ll never admit it out loud—

he really does.

—

you constantly look back and don’t know when you started believing him.

maybe it was the first time he held your hand without thinking, his fingers curling around yours so naturally, like he didn’t need to pretend anymore.

or maybe it was when he let you steal his hoodie, even though you were sure he’d never let anyone do that before.

or maybe—just maybe—it was when you saw the way he looked at you.

because it’s different now.

jay park, the guy who used to flirt with anyone just for fun, the guy who never stuck around, only looks at you.

"okay, but seriously," jake says, pointing a fry at jay. "how the hell did this happen?"

you’re sitting in the corner booth of a diner near campus, squeezed between jay and the wall. heeseung and jake are across from you, both staring like you’re some kind of unsolvable mystery.

jay takes a slow sip of his drink. "what do you mean?"

"you!" heeseung gestures wildly. "relationship jay. committed jay. ‘not flirting with every breathing human’ jay."

"it’s called growth," jay deadpans.

"it’s called ‘i fell first, and i fell hard,’" jake teases, smirking.

jay huffs. "whatever, man."

but he doesn’t deny it.

heeseung leans forward, grinning. "okay, but who confessed first?"

jay opens his mouth—

"me, obviously," you interrupt.

jay’s head snaps toward you. "what?"

you shrug. "you’re a coward. took you forever to admit you liked me."

jake laughs. "ohhh, he got you there."

jay glares at you, but you just smile, nudging his foot under the table.

you laugh, “joking, it’s complicated.”

heeseung rests his chin in his palm. "man, i never thought i’d see the day."

"what day?" you ask, amused.

"the day jay park became a simp."

jay groans, burying his face in his hands. "i hate all of you."

you pat his arm. "no, you don’t."

he exhales, tilting his head to look at you. his eyes soften.

"yeah," he murmurs. "i don’t."

—

later that night, after jay walks you back to your dorm, you linger outside the door.

he doesn’t leave right away.

instead, he leans against the wall, hands in his pockets, just looking at you.

you tilt your head. "what?"

jay hesitates, then exhales sharply.

"it’s weird," he mutters. "this whole time, i thought i had everything figured out. i thought i knew what i wanted. but then you came along, and suddenly, nothing made sense anymore."

your chest tightens.

"i didn’t get it at first," jay continues, eyes flickering to the ground. "why i got so annoyed when you ignored me. why i kept looking for you in every room. why i couldn’t flirt with anyone else without feeling like it was wrong."

he finally meets your gaze.

"but now i do."

your fingers tighten around the door handle, heartbeat loud in your ears.

"i don’t want to be the guy i was before," he murmurs. "not with you."

you swallow. "jay—"

"i know i’m not good at this," he cuts in. "i know i’m gonna mess up. i know i don’t deserve you."

his voice drops lower, almost hesitant. almost afraid.

"but i want to try. and i want you to let me."

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then, finally—

you sigh, shaking your head. "god, you’re such an idiot."

jay blinks. "huh?"

you step forward, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down until your foreheads touch.

"you’ve had me this whole time," you murmur.

jay’s breath stutters.

then, slowly—hesitantly—his arms wrap around you, holding you against him, warm and real.

"yeah?" he whispers.

you nod. "yeah."

jay exhales a shaky laugh, squeezing you tighter.

"thank god," he mutters. "i don’t think i could’ve handled losing you."

you smile against his shoulder.

neither could you.

762 notes · View notes

chrisstvrns · 5 months ago

Text

𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦…

warnings: head under the desk, head while live streaming, swallowing cum, hair grabbing and light tugging, no use of y/n, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!!

word count: 811

based off of this request!

it had been nearly 3 hours since matt and chris started streaming. you had been napping for most of the stream, and you woke up an hour ago. and you woke up about 45 minutes ago. you were startled awake by matt screaming at chris for something, presumably something on the game they were playing, chained together.

“okay, matt, im sick of this! can we play something else?” chris shouts, annoyed

“like what?” matt asks, groaning

“whats that game we used to play with justin? the escape room?” chris rambles, continuing on about how hes gonna text their older brother

“okay, you get it set up, im getting water.” with that, matt turns his camera and microphone off, turning to you

you look at him with tired, sympathetic puppy eyes

“you woke me up” you grumble, rubbing your eyes

“im sorry baby” he whispers, walking over to the bed, wrapping you in a tight hug

“can i sit with you?” you murmur, clinging to your boyfriend

“im playing the game, pretty. wanna sit near me?”

thats when a smile crept up on your face, pulling away from the hug

“can i sit under the desk? its cozy down there, and im cold. the heaters right under your desk, matty.”

“under the desk?” he questions, smiling “okay, sure. you can sit under the desk”

you pull away from the hug, taking your blanket with you, crawling to sit under the desk. within a few minutes, matt comes back with 2 bottles of water, one for him and one for you. he turns the mic and camera back on, eventually joining the game with chris, going back to streaming and playing the online escape room.

you rested your head on his thigh, your fingers gently toying with the strings of his sweatpants, periodically brushing your fingertips over where his dick would be. a few minutes later, you noticed a tent in his pants growing, and you smirked.

you lift your head, repositioning your body on your knees, between his thighs. you stare up at him, smiling as you gently start undoing the strings of his sweatpants.

as if on queue, he slams down on his keyboard, chris shouting

“matt! whered you go, what happened to your camera?”

“uh, i dunno. must be something with your computer? i can still see me” he lies, looking down at you between his legs “can chat see me?”

and immediately, chat floods with the answer: no.

he smirks, his microphone still on as he gently lifts his hips, allowing you to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing free and hitting your stomach.

you smile, looking up at him as he continues to play the game. you take ahold of his cock, gently stroking him up and down, your eyes locked on his face as he clenches his jaw, still playing the game.

you continue gently stroking him, periodically kitten licking his tip. each time, he slightly hisses, playing it off as doing something wrong in the game whenever chris asked.

you stroke him a bit faster, his breathing getting more heavy and rapid, ending up in him shouting something out.

“give me- give me head!” he shouts, his hand immediately flying to his mouth, eyes widening when he realizes he has the perfect opportunity to play it off.

“chris, give me the statue head!” he states, looking down at you as you slowly wrap your lips around his tip, throwing his head back

you begin to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip.

he continues playing his game, one of his hands finding its way to your head, gathering your hair and clutching it, tightening his grip as you continue to bob your head, bringing him closer to his release.

after some more bobs and gags, he nearly rips out your hair as he slams the microphone off, throwing his head back.

“fuck, baby, m’so close. keep goin’.. yeahhh, just like that” he rambles, his eyes slammed shut

“im cummin’, baby, fuck im cummin’” he mutters, his jaw slack as he shoots his warm release down your throat, bringing you to stop your movements.

you smile, pulling off of him and swallow, wiping your bottom lip and staring at him. he reaches down, brushing his thumb over your cheek and gently pulling you up

“youre fuckin’ gorgeous, baby. mine. my pretty girl.” he mutters, gently pecking your lips and pulling you onto his lap.

you curl up into him, resting your head on his chest as he turns his microphone and camera back on

“matt! there you are! whered you go?” chris shouts once his brother returns

“sorry, man, something was happening with my system. technology shit, y’know?” he smiles, rubbing small circles into your thigh with his thumb as he holds the controller in the other hand.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: im tired im going to sleep and scheduling this to post int he morning goodnight i love you all thank you for reading

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws @sturns-mermaid

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #rory's blog𝜗𝜚 #© chrisstvrns #auroras blog𝜗𝜚 #aurora's fanfics ੈ✩‧₊˚

767 notes · View notes

gothicfied · 6 months ago

Note

can you write for thanos x reader where the reader is really stoic and calm, not mean, but just does not express much emotion and it drive thanos crazy trying to impress her and get a reaction? Thanks :)

Hard to get - Thanos / Player 230

Pairing: Thanos / Player 230 x calm!reader

Summary: Thanos will do anything to get a reaction out of you, even if that means he has to put himself in danger.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, gunshots, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff (kinda lol), not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 971 Words

A/N: hii, I hope this is alright and what you had imagined!

When you woke up in a random bed, in a new environment with random people, you almost started to have a panic attack. Usually, you don't really show your emotions, you just keep them locked inside you and let a war rage in your mind while appearing to be calm about a situation you can't be calm about. After the initial shock wore off, you made your way to the middle of this area filled with beds, where other contestants or players with different numbers started complaining to the guards, that wore pretty ridiculous outfits you thought, about where their belongings went and other stuff.

After getting to know the rules of this.. 'game' you guys were playing for money, as everyone including you was here because of huge debt or money problems, you were led to the first mini game. Everyone went up the stairs while upbeat music was playing in the background, the fun colors of this environment stinging in your eyes. Suddenly, you hear someone whistle behind you: "Señorita!" The voice of a man seemingly called out to you. Without stopping, you turned your head around to face a purple-haired guy with a shit eating grin on his face. "Wow, what is a pretty thing like you doing here?" Without giving him a reaction, you just shrugged and went on, feeling your legs grow tired of climbing these stairs.

"What? You don't know?" Player 230, the numbed on his chest, seemed relentless. "Well, yeah, I obviously know. You do too, we're all in here because of one reason." you answered him, matter-of-factly, not giving him the time to speak to his face. "Have I already told you how pretty you are?" This guy's flirting techniques weren't really that great. He continued to shower you with compliments, to which you mostly didn't reply or at most said "Thank you."

When arriving at the top, every player had to take a picture in front of some screens. Conventionally, Thanos, as you gathered his alias was from others who seemed to know him, was waiting in the queue next to you, now talking with.. his fans? You didn't quite get it, but apparently he was some sort of rapper you had never heard of. A few players wanted to take a group photo with him and when he said yes, he looked at you, still waiting in line for your turn. "Hey, you there. Come on, you can be in the picture, too." Thanos said, signaling you to come over to him. Raising your eyebrows slightly, you just waved it off, with it now being your turn to take a picture.

Entering the open-roof arena of sorts, with the femald voice explaining the rules of Red-Light-Green-Light to the players, you found yourself next to Thanos, again. "So, you don't know who I am?" You just said 'no' and looked at him expectantly, like you wanted him to explain who he was. It seemed to annoy him. The man went on about how he was a rapper, even demonstrating that to you with some cheesy rap he came up on the spot, until he was interrupted by some guy, yelling that everyone who'd move during red light would die. How drastic.

"What is he talking about?" Thanos whispered, but you didn't show a reaction and rather listened to what Player 456 had to say. It started to really get on Thanos' nerves that he couldn't even coax one reaction or emotion out of you. No matter gow charming he was or how many questions he asked, you remained aloof. He kind of liked it.

"Must be on drugs, huh?" Another attempt of him to talk to you, to which you shushed him. The man in up front was talking about how you'd get shot if you moved, that being disqualified just meant they'd execute you. You didn't want to believe him, like, this sounds too crazy to be real, right? Yet still, you were determined to follow his directions. Everyone lined up on the white line, the mechanic girl doll thing staring you down. It was big and scary, also mysterious in some way. How would they shoot eliminated players? Would she shoot lasers out of her eyes like in some kind of film?

You found out pretty quickly that it was just guards who did it, as one girl panicked when a bee landed on her and that set off a chain reaction with others trying to run for their lives, just to get it taken away from them. You were floored. Splatters if blood landed on your face from one woman being shot right in front of you, Thanos not far away experiencing the same. Player 456 was screaming everyone to either run or freeze, depending on if it was red light or green light, guiding the remaining players through the game quickly.

Thanos and you had been locking eyes everytime you were supposed to freeze, him sending you a small wink everytime he saw your disturbed face. Unbeknownst to you, to everyone, he had taken some kind of pill out from his cross necklace, some kind of drug, and was now bouncing all over the place, like this wasn't serious. He reveled in the fact that he was able to get a reaction out of you now: you were mortified everytime he did something even remotely dangerous. Aww, you cared for him!

Going as far as pushing other players over, getting them killed, you concluded that this guy was mental.

The last few seconds of the given time were scary. You had made it over the finish line, saving yourself from a gruesome death, just like Thanos.

"Glad to see you on this side, Señorita. Would've been too bad if I couldn't have seen your pretty face ever again."

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #squid games x reader #squid game x reader #squid games #thanos x reader #thanos #thanos squid game #player 230 x reader #player 230 #t.o.p #t.o.p x reader

932 notes · View notes

kyri45 · 4 months ago

Text

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 25/02✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@esmailsadeh ha chiesto: Kyri I have a question...please don't end your amazing masterpiece (LMK AU) there are literally a ton of people that love it , so why must you end it? please reconsider for your fans >.<

The question is... why must I end it? Well cause it's a story and I don't like unfinished fics ahah.

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Sorry, random dumb thought Think that Wukong or MK would go "kachow" when they're tryna look attractive for their respective partners? 😭 Imagining Macaque or Redson being really into admiring their partners just for their idiot to go "aha, ✨ Kachow ✨ " when showing off intentionally LMAO

haha well they could!

@meisawkwardashecc ha chiesto: Are shadowpeach switches?

Macaque is mostly the top

@anidiotkid ha chiesto: So, does Wukong or MK ever get cramps? And if so, how do they deal with it? (...totally not projecting here 😭)

yes they do! Wukong is a drama queen. MK will neglect his meds until he faints. (and then proceed to be scolded by Mei)

@captain-space-kin ha chiesto: Okay so, I happened upon the Shadowpeach bio parents au update today and then binge read the whole thing instead of doing college work. And I just wanted to say watching your art grow and change is really encouraging to me as an artist. I often times get stuck thinking my art isn’t improving “fast enough”, but seeing the progress you’ve made over the course of comic is really cool! And it also kinda making me want to try out making comics finally. Anyway! Love your art, and I’m very excited to see how the rest of goes!

Thank you!!

@itzlilith32 ha chiesto: Hello kyri, I just came here to say that I really love your Au. Lmk was already consuming my life since I discovered it like a year and a few months ago. And now I also have your Au consuming my everyday, but I wouldn't have it any other way. :3 I've discovered your au like between part 2 and 3 I think, so a while ago. And it's been the most fun rollercoaster of emotions I've been on. I like everything about it, from your art to the storytelling, I honestly can't put into words how much I love it ^^ Since we're in part 9, and the final from what you said, I wanted to say this. These past months have been wonderful, from discovering this au and seeing how it evolved, to now, where we're near the end. Although, correct me if I'm wrong, but I have a tiny bitty feeling that this is just the end of a big chapter. And I can't wait to see what happens next. :D 🫶

Awww thank youuu!!

@virtualjellyfishcolor ha chiesto: uh kyri…. did macaque hear all that…?like uh mk and redson..

Luckily his powers were still too weak. He most likely WILL hear what might happen in the future

@busterwarrior2099 ha chiesto: So what's going to happen to Li Jing and heaven now? Because I bet mk and the others are not going trust them again after the stunt they try to pull by kidnapping the guy who defeated the bull demon king,the lady bone demon,azure lion and prevented the world to end all because they learn about his heritage so yeah not a good impression at all

I have... plans.

@kid-of-chaos ha chiesto: Kyri will we get to see the mini monkeys at the Coronation or just around in general again I miss my gremlin friens :d

aww we can bring some of those little guys yes

@blairjojo ha chiesto: yo Kyri are u gunna make this into a full comic and publish it edventioaly (I need to buy it) @amyrosewithoutshadow ha chiesto: Hello! Brazilian fan here! How are you? First of all, love your art. Really, it makes me fell so safe and happy when I see it. Second, do you plan on doing a book or a web comic book with all the parts together when you end the Bio Dads au? I Would die for having the comic in hands and read it when I want and can. Thank you 💕

maybe, not now though (I don't have the time). I need mods and people who help me with the logistic first and a lot of planning

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: Your art is so genuinely great that I accidentally got invested in these fictional characters that I don't know just so I could see more of it. So like yeah, good job. I stumbled into it a few days ago and have re-read it like at least 3 times now and every time I get to the giant-kaiju Shrek 2-reference song-sequence I just feel an emotion that is very intense but that I have no idea how to quantify. I think the emotion is positive but there's also such a deep incredulity to it. It is glorious and unhinged and I am absolutely here for it. Loving whatever the hell this whole AU is, you have made me care very intensely about characters from a show I did not know nearly anything about. I've pieced together enough lore to understand enough of what is happening but you have made me want to actually watch the show.

awww tysm!!!

@gtuguzbuzbu ha chiesto: Will Wukong ever know what happened down there? Like he sorta knows that Mama got himself hurt but he doesn't know what exactly happened.

yeah Macaque eventually told him everything and he was condemned to 2 days in the hug-prison

@lordmageofart ha chiesto: Wait.. this instantly hit me but I have to ask! Is Macaque gonna Courtnap Wukong again? Will Wukong try yet fail to courtnap just to show Macaque he loves him? Or is it just going to be like a normal conversation like their normal people? (Probably won't be the last one but I still have to ask)

nah this time they just want to go straight to the point

@metalheaded-freak ha chiesto: Kyri, I just wanted to say… thank you, for creating the Bio Parents Au, it’s been such an emotional journey and honestly? If it wasn’t for you then I wouldn’t have gotten into the fandom the way I did. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you were the gateway for me to fully embrace this fandom and not be afraid to show what I do, so once again thank you!

Thank youu!!!

@classystudentmugdonut-blog ha chiesto: Hello I just want say I love your work I keep rereading it from the beginning even though I should be resting I got sick but anyways I want to who is YOUR MOST favorite in this lmk

MK. he is baby

@cranberrychaos ha chiesto: Considering you now got red bubble merch of the shadowpeach au... would you ever consider us paying to you to color in our favorite scenes from the comic? I got a couple I'd like to see colored and have in my house or wallpaper 😭

I don't take commissions

@redsontheredbull ha chiesto: Do you have a lady bone demon design?

mmm not really.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Do you think Red (or DBK) would get offended if people used cow/bull terms? Like bullshit? Or if they are driving and pass by a cow farm? Stuff like this pops into my head a lot and I wanted to know what you would think because all I can imagine is Red Son come face to face with a cow and it being so awkward 😭😭 Bye <3

mmm i think so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I honestly think it would be funny to see how confused people would be if they just started being nice to each other, with no context as to how or why (Not like all their problems are fixed nice but just treating each other a bit better after their talk)

LOL i think everyone is either confused or glad they finally resolved their sexual tension

@roseltelle ha chiesto: Since Wukong is trans can he get pregnant too?!? Is this something he and Macaque have to worry about?!?

yes he can get pregnant.

@vivian-devoid ha chiesto: "kilani-123 ha chiesto:Does Mk know that Wukong and Macaque are still engaged?👀" WAIT WHAT?! I nearly choked on my water(stay hydrated) when the hell did this happen!?

the day before the brotherhood tried to take over heaven

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for everything?! Just wanted to ask if you have other comics you plan on making once lmk is over aside from sky❤️

first i finish the sky comic, then I'll see

@violetcookie2007 ha chiesto: Do you personally have anymore nicknames for Shadow peach or Spicy noodles? I like all the ones you have in the comic and think they are all very cute and was wondering if you have any more. Also I love you art!

mmm not really. im open for suggestions

@gaybirdlovescrackers ha chiesto: How does it feel to singlehandedly keep a fandom afloat. To keep it trending by pure gay.

it feels illegal to hold this power

@steadylandface ha chiesto: Are we gonna get a Spicynoodles child in the future 👀

Yes, go watch Ninjago Pilot episode 1

@lonelydarkrai ha chiesto: Is there anyone dubbing your comics?

lots of folks are dubbing my comic.

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: I suppose now is as good of a time as any to wonder if this means Red Son has accidentally left his jacket with MK. Just like, as a concept.

oooohh yes

@nocturnaldaydreamer ha chiesto: Oh no, realized this a little while ago... But MK is not only the son of the Monkey King, but is gonna be crowned a Celestial Prince. Red Son and MK better be careful, there might be some crazies out there trying to Courtnap him...

Red son will be hissing like a cat to anyone who tries to come closer

@leve4ever ha chiesto: If season 6 comes out will you make more shadowpeach bio parents au?

yeah why not.

@nomadiclegends ha chiesto: 四耳孫小天 ...so is it pronounced "Sì'ěr Sun Xiǎotiān" ??? my mandarin's pretty weak sauce and I'm curious 😶

yes

@this-one-gay-person ha chiesto: For the LMK bio parents au is there like a specific post schedules?

every other day at 1Pm ET

@anxiety-beans ha chiesto: I need you to know that this comic is what converted me into a Shadowpeach shipper. It altered my brain chemistry, I swear.

let's goooooooo

@bonbonfoxyton ha chiesto: A little late asking this buut I'm curious, how did courtnaping go between macaque and Wukong exactly? Is it okay if you'd explain it, it's a 100% okay if you don't want to since I read your boundaries thing and everything to make sure your good with this question

I'll let the fans picture how it happened

@cutvdo ha chiesto: Have you thought of putting your fan comics ISAT: Sky CotL AU and LMK: ShadowPeach Bio Parents AU, on a different website? like tapas

you can't publish fan-comics on Tapas

@the-immortal-restless ha chiesto: Do you think that Macaque or Wukong’s hair ever falls forward? Like MKs does on purpose because style but like… Wukong and Macaque both have the longer fur so does it stay out of their face or does it fall forwards something in your au/opinion? (Petition for Wukong and Macaque to be Mukong… because if sun Wukong is swk then Mukong is MK!)

I think it could, maybe they use gel?

@wolfsbanex-x ha chiesto: KYRIII!!! Hello, I love your art so much. I just want to say that stream where you talked about motivation was very inspiring! I LOVE your comic so much, it’s been a shoulder for me whenever I have had a rough day. I hope you continue to gift us with even more amazing art (sorry if I’m rambling here). YOU CAN DO THIS!!! WHOOO!!!!☺️🥳

Thank you!!

@eneska31 ha chiesto: so we know when MK got his court napping thoughts, when did Redson get his? and can we see what happens in his POV in like a small comic at some point? p.s I absolutely love your art and this comic has brought me so much joy ☺️💛🐵

After MK called him beautiful

@factmeegg ha chiesto: Okay question, When first made this fan comic or whatever. What were your thoughts on this when you first started up to now?

that it would have been a really short and silly thing

@mischiefmelody ha chiesto: Question! Will MK be in his monkey or human form for his coronation? Either way he'll be gorgeous but I wanna knowwwww

He'll be in monkey form

cherrummi ha chiesto: After reading the latest update, I made an animation, but apparently asks don’t support video sooo here’s some key frames instead (I’m going to post my full animation in my blog, so if you’re interested you could check it out): Also: Will something like this happen in the story? 👆 How traditional is DBK and PIF would you say, comparing them to traditional human families? Could you give more insight on demon etiquette or courtnapping? Thank you so much for making art! It’s incredible! ❤️

uhh yeah in a way

they are very traditional, but they know when to put some traditions aside in sake of Red Son happiness

Courtnapping rooms are a must, old schools courtnapping usually last around a year but now days it's at best 2 weeks. The courtnapped person must consent and if not they can leave. The courtnapper must provide everything for their partner, including their hobbies, favourite food, family visits, etc… (it's basically a pre-dating very complex honeymoon

@huntershyperfixation ha chiesto: Your art is beautiful and the lmk fandom adores you ☆

ADFZBFD AGAER THANK YOU

@ithinkimprobablyweird ha chiesto: What is mk in the au? Like gay bi pan or something else?

Demisexual, trans masc, bi.

@cryptoknightpatch ha chiesto: Hi lol I’m curious did you come up with the court-napping idea by yourself or was it actually anything referencing Jttw?

it's a fan headcanon of the LMK fandom

@axtonorian ha chiesto: First up, I LOVEE YOUR ART Its really fun to look at and aesthetically pleasing in my opinion. Second I know Wukong had/has nightmares about Mk but what about Mac? And even if it all worked out in the end would his nightmares about those two get worse after everything that just happened?

he sometimes dreams of hurting him. a lot of cuddles ensue everytime he wakes up with wukong close by

@jinxdrawsstuff ha chiesto: Hi Kyri! Just wanted to pop in real quick and say thank you for your Shadowpeach AU <3 it’s getting me through my first college year, every update makes my day a lot better!

you're welcome!

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

265 notes · View notes

notsopersonalcharlie · 11 months ago

Text

Don't Care, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Bucky is capital J-Jealous

Warnings: A guy being overly nice at a bar, drinking at 1pm, nothing else I can think of

Notes: Short little thing I thought of when i was visiting home and witnessing my sister's boyfriend be jealous lol. I just love jealous Bucky sorry not sorry. More Biker!Bucky here

“Oh hey sweetheart, you look lonely over here.” You looked up from where you were engrossed in the book you’d left behind the bar for days just like this, the crew was too busy to talk and the regulars weren’t your favorite. The man wasn’t a regular, not horrible looking and was dressed alright. You were confident he had stopped by because his car was in the shop. The demographic that frequented the bar that was not the vibe that this man was giving off.

“Oh you know, just waiting for my order,” you supplied with a polite smile. He had plopped himself onto the bar stool beside you and raised a two finger salute to Bruce, who was the daytime bartender.

“Waiting for your car?” he asked, “Nice girls like you don’t usually come around here.” Your eyes narrowed, an eyebrow going up.

“I’m a regular. And you? Waiting for your car? Since I haven’t seen you around.” Bruce came over, giving you a look that said ‘if this guy is bothering you I’ll toss him out’ and you knew he would. Bruce “The Hulk” Banner was not exactly known for his polite way of answering rude customers. You shook your head. No need to alienate a customer just because he got a little friendly at a bar.

“What can I get you, man?”

“Whatever IPA you have and whatever the lady is having I’ll put on my tab.” Bruce grinned at that and you were near protesting. You never paid for a thing at the Howling Commando, but you knew Bruce and you knew he was putting your lunch right on this guy’s tab.

“Sure thing.” Bruce turned away.

“Must just have not been around on the same days as you.” You glanced around the bar. It was pretty empty today, but it was still early. Your bosses had required you to use some of your PTO before they had to pay you out for it, and you were truly more than happy to oblige a staycation. After another glance around, Bruce still keeping an eye on you out of the corner of your eye, you decided it would be entirely harmless to engage in conversation.

“Not sure. I’m here every day. Basically. You here getting your car fixed?” You asked again. He gave you another sleazy smile, this one reminiscent of your male coworkers who thought they could get any more than a polite smile or handshake at a work happy hour.

“Waiting for my car yeah. Only place this convenient to get a decent bite and drink while waiting for them to get done.” As if on queue, Bruce slid over your usual burger and sweet tea, and then an IPA for the guy.

“Closed tab?” Bruce asked, putting his hand out for the card. The guy did a suggestive look over at you.

“You know? Keep it open.” You rolled your eyes at your sandwich, slightly regretting that you had begun a conversation with this man, and took a bite. Some of the tomato juice dripped down your chin and you snapped at Bruce to get his attention.

“You’re going to learn one of these days,” he sighed, tossing you a stack of napkins. You chewed and swallowed and then gave him a grin as he walked back over.

“You keep saying that, but I never do.”

“Good luck…” he looked at the tab as he slid it under a cup in front of the man, “Colin… you’re going to need it.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, you knew he didn’t mean good luck with you, or at least not the primary part.

“So you’re really a regular regular huh?” Colin was eyeing you with near a frown as he took the first sip of his beer. The clock behind the bar read a quarter past one.

“Yeah, lots of friends who work here. Just not usually in during the day. Sounds like you’ve been here before?” You took another bite before he could pivot the questioning back to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been before. They did a shit job though…” He started to ramble but you were quickly uninterested when the side door opened and a sweaty, grease stained Bucky Barnes walked in, squinting at a ticket.

“Paulson? Fucking Yelena and her handwriting. This is fuc-oh!” It was almost comedic to see Bucky go from a serious, frowning massive man to the grinning, golden retriever man he became when he looked at you. Bucky attention had turned squarely on you as he walked over, the ticket partially crumpling in his hand as he tried to wipe them off before he got over to you. The grease stains on some of your clothes were impossible to get out just from his grabby hands.

“Paulson, that’s me.” Both you and Bucky turned to Colin, as if he had just returned to existence. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and you could see them flicker across the length of the empty bar then back to where Colin had seated himself beside you. He knew it had to be him that sat beside you because not two hours gone, Bucky had come in for some water and to smack a kiss to your lips right where you sat now.

All concern for grease stains went right out the window.

Bucky came up behind you, reaching over your shoulder to take a few fries off your plate, the hand with the crumpled ticket going around the other side to hand it to Colin, effectively entrapping you between his arms and away from the guy.

“Your car’s done. You can settle it up in the office.” Colin stared at Bucky, who after handing him the paper, wrapped his arm around you and pressed your back to his chest, chomping on fries and reaching for your sweet tea.

“Did they make your burger good?” Bucky asked, “The new cook got specific instructions.” You elbowed him lightly.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a control freak.” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“They know I’m the control freak.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll go get my car then. Nice to meet you.” Colin left his mostly full IPA on the table and forgot to pay his tab, near running out the front door.

“What was that guys problem?” Bucky asked jokingly, spinning your stool so you were facing him. You wrinkled your nose.

“You’re stinky.”

“I don’t think you care,” Bucky rumbled, leaning down to press a long warm kiss to your lips.

“His problem was I was getting ready to deck him,” Bruce said, setting down a pint of Bucky’s favorite on a coaster beside your food. He whisked away Colin’s drink and wiped down the watermark.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Bruce responded before disappearing back towards the kitchen. Bucky plopped onto the stool beside you and waited for you to respond.

“He was just trying to chat me up. That’s all.” Bucky sipped his drink before taking a massive bite out of your burger.

“Hey! That’s mine! Smaller bite!”

“I’m just taste testing the new cook.” You bickered over your lunch as the rest of the garage crew began to filter in, a few of the regulars making their way through the front as well.

“Heyo! I heard someone was trying to flirt with-“ Bucky hit Steve in the arm, but Sam had already heard it from where he was clocking in behind the bar.

“Is he dead?” he yelled. The group devolved into ways that Bucky could have murdered this man. All of you failed to notice Colin walking in the front door, where he paused and stared at the group of massive, tattooed bikers calling out forms of torture that could have been inflicted on him. Sam saw him first.

“Oh hey man, what can I get you?” Everyone turned toward him and Bucky got to his feet immediately, having been the only one who could have identified him.

“Just-“ the man’s voice came out high and you suppressed a grin, already feeling a little bad for him. He cleared his throat, face red.

“Just the tab I left.” There was a quiet murmur of “ooooos” as the group dispersed, keeping an eye on you and Bucky.

"Sorry," you started, but Bucky shifted around the side of the bar, picking up Colin's card where it was sitting by the register. Policy was 20% on any leftover cards and Bruce had already closed it out with your meal on there.

"Here. Get lost." Bucky's expression had gone dark.

"Buck, he didn't know."

"Don't care." Colin took a few steps back.

"Man, I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't know she was your girl, she was talking to me too."

"Do. Not. Care." Colin fled under the close watch of the bikers.

"You didn't have to do that," you sighed, rolling your eyes at the men around you, "You're going to lose a customer."

"Don't care," Bucky muttered, back by your side, "You're mine, honey. Don't care what anyone else says."

"I am yours. He was just being nice." Sam had started the music for the night, and it whafted through the speakers.

"Dance with me, belle?" You laughed.

"When have I ever said no to that? In fact, kill me if I ever do because its an evil clone trying to take over my life." He laughed, the sound more than enough music to your ears for dancing. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and smacked a kiss to your lips, taking your hand and whisking you off to the dance floor.

#charliewrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #biker!bucky fluff #bucky x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #bruce banner #notsopersonalcharlie

679 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 3 months ago

Text

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part nineteen

Hello from the queue! I've been writing this at the speed of light again, so here's the next one already 🤭 I promise you we are getting so much closer to these two actually fucking working things out

Warnings: Garcia is on to these two!!!!, oh Hotch is so down horrendous it's rlly starting to show, once again idk if this is how things would be handled with two-decade-old files so just go with it, dare i say...more flirting?

Hotch barely sleeps. He’s at the BAU an hour and a half earlier than normal the next morning — which is almost three hours earlier than everyone else.

Garcia stops in her tracks when she sees Hotch’s light on in his office. She has just arrived, a little earlier than usual only because since hearing the unsub left a note at your door, she wanted to have as much time as possible to do some more sleuthing.

She grabs her laptop and heads back into the bullpen, knocking softly on Hotch’s door. “Early bird gets the worm, huh?”

Hotch chuckles softly. “Morning, Penelope.”

“Want some coffee?” she asks, bracelets jingling as she grabs Hotch’s mug off his desk. “More coffee?”

“Please,” he says, barely looking up from the files scattered on his desk. “Thank you.”

He’s looking back into your father’s case. All old files that were only recently digitized, but he wants the physical paper. The pen strokes that might be hiding something.

It’s odd, seeing Rossi’s signature and handwriting. Even odder seeing your name pop up when he gets to the kidnapping.

He needs to talk to you about it. It says you never saw your kidnapper’s face, and Hotch believes that, but there must be something, anything that you do remember. Even though it has been two decades. This kind of stuff doesn’t just leave you, though. He knows that. There must be something you can tell him.

For now, he keeps reading and re-reading, hoping to find something new. All he finds is what he already knows. You were fourteen, you were taken at the bus stop after school, you didn’t see his face (but it was a male, of that you were certain), and you were let go without a scratch almost three days later, thanks to your father’s help when he turned himself in. He had been missing — or at least, your mother had no idea where he was — for a few months at that point, until you were taken. Then, he reappeared quickly as if he had been in town the whole time. Maybe he was.

Garcia returns with two steaming cups of coffee, sugar and cream packets in another empty mug tucked into her elbow. “Go crazy,” she says, setting them all down, careful to avoid the files. “Anything interesting?”

Hotch sighs. “No.”

Garcia settles down into the chair across from Hotch. “Anything I can look into?”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, setting his pen down to pick up his mug. “Were there any other solid suspects in the murders Richard Monroe committed? Anyone they took in for questioning? I’m not finding anything here, and I can ask Rossi again but—”

“But it was twenty years ago,” Garcia finishes with a nod. “I’ll look into it some more. It is harder, looking this far back, but—”

“There has to be something,” Hotch finishes this time, setting his mug down without even taking a sip. He runs a hand through his hair before shutting his eyes. “What are we missing?”

Garcia watches him carefully. Everyone is worried about you, about the implications of this unsub seemingly locked in on targeting only you. Everyone on the team is worried because they care about you, but Hotch… It seems to run deeper than that. There’s a certain desperation that Garcia can’t place, but is surprised she never saw it before, because it’s so obvious now that—

Oh my god.

Hotch has a crush. A raging, blushing, all-consuming crush on you. Of course he does.

It’s playground-like, almost. That age-old saying, if a boy picks on a girl then he must have a crush on said girl. Garcia has always hated that saying, felt like it was bullshit because it is, but it might be true with you and Hotch, to some degree, at least. It makes sense for the two of you, the way you match each other’s energies and apparently have since the day you met ten years ago.

Despite Garcia’s meddling tendencies, she doesn’t mention this new revelation. Hotch probably doesn’t even know, same with you. She’d bet money that if she brought it up to either of you, she’d get an eye roll and a laugh — both of which would not be convincing in the slightest.

For now, she does extra digging, going down avenues she hasn’t explored yet, others she has, retracing steps of the FBI and local law enforcement from twenty years ago. Barely half of the files on the local level are digitized, and they’re done poorly. Garcia has tried contacting them for physical copies but met the expected defensive attitudes or no reply at all.

“Sir,” Garcia says, and Hotch looks up immediately, hoping she had found something. “A lot of this stuff hasn’t been scanned and uploaded, and what has gives me nothing. I’ve tried requesting the physical files, but—”

Hotch nods. He knows how they can be. “I’ll make some phone calls.”

“Thank you,” she says. “You know how I hate dealing with the stupid, arrogant—”

“Garcia,” Hotch interrupts, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got it.”

She nods, going back to searching. They both continue their research until the sun rises.

Morgan is the first one into the office, bounding up the stairs to knock on Hotch’s door frame. “Partying all night, huh?”

“You wish,” Garcia grins, stretching her hand out for Morgan to come closer and he does, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We’ve been doing some early-morning sleuthing.”

“Find anything?” Morgan asks.

“Nothing new,” Hotch answers, eyes still fixed on the files before him. “I’ll make phone calls to the local departments in a few hours when everyone is awake and in office.”

Morgan snorts. “Yeah, you know they’ll love a phone call from the FBI.”

“I’m not really interested in what they’ll enjoy,” Hotch mutters, looking up after a moment when neither Garcia nor Morgan reply. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Garcia says softly. “We’re all worried about her.”

Hotch shares a quick glance with Garcia before nodding. “Yeah.”

Prentiss and JJ arrive next, and everyone returns to their desks down in the bullpen while Penelope heads to her cave. There’s still no sign of you or Rossi, and the only comfort Hotch has is one text from Rossi an hour ago saying he was going to take you out for breakfast, so not to expect the two of you before lunchtime.

It’s enough for Hotch to relax slightly. At least you’re safe and with Rossi, someone you can stand to be around right now. Someone that seems to bring you comfort to talk to, and Hotch understands why. It must be comforting, in a weird way, to reconnect with the man who helped find you and who helped put your father away all those years ago. Someone who understands because they were there. That’s something Hotch can’t give you.

Just as Hotch is about to make the phone calls to local departments, which he knows will take forever until he actually gets through to someone, his phone buzzes with a text. From you.

Hey, it reads. Out at breakfast with Rossi. Going to stop at my apartment on the way to the BAU to grab some things. My dad wrote letters to me. Sorry if I didn’t mention them, I tend to forget about them. See you soon.

It’s proof of life and Hotch hates how relieved he is to see it. His chest expands with warmth at the fact too that you messaged him yourself when you easily could’ve had Rossi pass the message along. It’s not much, but it’s something. And Hotch will take whatever he can get.

Okay, Hotch sends his reply. Take your time.

He’ll deal with your apologies later, if you try to apologize to him again for not mentioning the letters. It’s nothing you need to apologize for. Hotch can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling in the middle of all of this, and if he hadn’t been such an asshole to you this entire time, maybe you’d be close enough that he could ask you how you’re doing and it not result in a fight.

Hopefully you’ll get there. If he can do enough groveling, and he will. He’ll try. He’d take fighting with you over the strange dissociated, disconnected silence he’s been getting now.

Hotch sets his phone aside, facing up just in case you need anything else, and then begins his phone calls. Maybe JJ would be more equipped for this, but he’s not going to subject her to any unnecessary passive aggressiveness that these guys are bound to give. He’d rather take his frustrations out on them when they inevitably give him flak.

+++

The letters are easy to find. You keep them in the same place as everything else you kept from your mom’s house when she passed away and left it all to you. You didn’t keep much, figuring at the time that it was easier to take the sentimental things, pass off a few others to some of her family if they answered your calls, and sell the rest before selling the house.

The brown boxes at the bottom of your coat closet give nothing away to Rossi. He insisted on coming upstairs with you, and you didn’t have it in you to argue, just in case the unsub had been back. (He hasn’t.)

After opening a couple, you find the one with the letters, all of them rubber banded together and sitting on top of one of your mom’s old quilts.

“Here.” You hand the letters off to Rossi. “Those are just the ones he wrote to me.”

“There’s more?” Rossi asks, a touch incredulously as you dig around in the other boxes.

“Like I said, he wrote less to Mom, or at least she only kept a few,” you shrug, fingertips finally connecting with the small bubble envelope that your mom kept all of her letters in. “Here.”

Rossi takes it with furrowed brows, peeking inside. “We’ll have to get Reid on these,” he tries to joke.

For what it’s worth, you do let out a soft chuckle as you stand up. “Yeah.” You shut the closet door. “I wouldn’t mind reading through them again. It’s been so long and I’m a lot more…disconnected from him now. I don’t know.”

Rossi nods. “I understand. If you ever need a break, you don’t need to ask. You can take the time you need.”

You offer a small smile. “Thanks.” You glance around your place, taking a deep breath. “We should get going.”

Thankfully, Rossi doesn’t try to put it off any longer.

When you walk through the doors of the bullpen, everyone practically leaps from their desks to greet you. It looks a little bit like a scene from a cartoon, and you can’t help but laugh at them.

“I missed you guys too,” you tease, accepting Penelope’s hug. “I’m only like…four hours late. And not by my doing! Someone wanted to go somewhere for breakfast.”

Rossi holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I regret nothing.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the smile remains. You can’t deny that it was nice, getting breakfast and coffee and taking the morning slow. You can’t do that every morning, but doing it once was nice, you’ll admit. And needed, after yesterday and with the inevitable day of exhuming more secrets that lays ahead of you.

“What’s those?” Reid asks, pointing to the letters that Rossi has tucked under his arm. Rossi looks to you for an answer.

“Uhm, they’re from my dad,” you reply, reaching out to take the stack of letters addressed to you. “I kind of forgot about them. I try not to really think about them much, but I figured, with what’s going on, maybe there could be some clues in them.” You shrug. “Should we take over the round table?”

“I’m down,” Emily nods.

“As long as you’re good,” Derek says, with his usual Big Brother look and tone.

“Yeah,” you say, meaning it. “It’ll be easier with you guys helping me.”

“We’ve got you,” Penelope says, squeezing your arm.

Your eyes glance up at Hotch’s office for the first time since walking in, though your mind had begun to wonder where he was and why he hadn’t come down. Sure, he’s been acting weird ever since admitting to you that he’s known about your dad almost the entire time, and you’ve been giving him what has to be the most award-winning cold shoulder known to man, but he picked up your call last night. He rushed to your side within minutes. He called the police, he called Rossi, he kept you safe. He did everything, so you didn’t have to -- not that you would’ve been able to. You were frozen, and he kept you safe.

That’s worth something. Especially to you. You can be angry at him for betraying your trust, and be grateful that he stepped up when you needed him. Even if you don’t want to admit that you needed him at that moment. But of course you did. Because why else did you call him?

“He’s on the phone with local police departments,” Penelope says, mostly just for you to hear.

You look back down at her, a little sheepish at being caught. “What for?”

“Well,” she sighs, “not everyone is as caught up with the times as I’d like, meaning a lot of case files from two decades ago aren’t fully digitized or digitized correctly.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “So he’s making calls…to get the files?”

“Exactly,” Penelope nods. “I’m glad he’s doing it, too. They’d never listen to me, and I really don’t have the time to hack them and then explain why I had to do the hacking. So he’s been making calls for an hour.”

“Wow,” you murmur. It’s not that it’s unlike Hotch to make phone calls when necessary, but you know how he hates dealing with nonsense like this. And he’s doing it willingly, so Penelope doesn’t have to, and so it can help you.

It’s something he would do for any agent of his team, though, you’re sure. So you decide not to read too far into it.

“If only I had an eidetic memory like the kid,” Rossi jokes. “Then I could tell him everything from twenty years ago.”

“If only we had a time machine,” you add with a laugh. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee, but I’ll meet you guys in the conference room.”

Everyone disperses and you head over to the small break area, grabbing a mug. You’re waiting for the coffee to finish brewing when you hear Hotch’s office door open.

You’re not aware that he’s coming to you until he appears beside you, empty coffee cup in hand.

“Need another hit?” you joke, nodding to his mug.

He lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between a scoff and tired exhale, neither directed at you, though. “Desperately. How was breakfast?”

“It was good,” you say, staring at the coffee pot instead of his eyes, though you can feel him watching you. “Penelope told me you’re willingly making phone calls to local police departments,” you can’t help but crack a small smile as you steal a glance at him.

His lips tug into a smile, too. He rubs his forehead, “Yes, I am. They’re not happy about it, but they’re faxing files over.”

“How badly did you threaten them?”

Hotch does scoff then, but it’s playful, for probably the first time around you. “I don’t threaten them.”

“Mhm, suuure,” you nod slowly, drawing out the sound with a smirk.

The coffee pot finishes, not taking long for just two cups, and you pour your share, turning then to pour Hotch’s. He looks shocked when you motion for him to move his mug closer, but he doesn’t question it. You put the pot down and start to stir in your sugar and cream.

“Are you joining us?” you ask without looking up. “Everyone’s in the round table room. I brought the letters back.”

Once again, he looks shocked, his brain stuttering as he tries to form a reply. “Yeah, I can. The files should be faxed to my office in the next hour, so we’ll have those too.”

“Cool,” you say, finally looking up at him. “And thank you for coming last night. I don’t know if I thanked you.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to.”

He thinks you’re going to have some rebuttal, but you don’t. You just turn and head up into the conference room, leaving him standing there with a steaming cup of coffee.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #The Gambit

185 notes · View notes

thevalicemultiverse · 6 months ago

Note

“party city’s going out of business” would be a good line right before you kicked someone in the nuts.

Inevitable High School

Alice: Perhaps, though I'm not sure I'm the right person to say it. It's a one-liner that doesn't fit me.

Smiler: While I'd say it, but I'm not the kind of person who generally gets into situations where someone has to be kicked in the nuts.

Alice: Should I summon you the next time I need to boot someone in the crotch then?

Smiler: Why not? That would REALLY confuse them.

#~M: I want some questions! now! (ask)#~M: grin without a cat (anon)#~V: Inevitable High School #party city's going out of business #~C: Alice Liddell #~C: Smiler Alton #((not that I don't trust Alice to come up with a decent one-liner if she had to #but this one is definitely more Smiler's style #but as they are a lover not a fighter #their forces must combine))#~M: with this hand I will lift your queue

0 notes

sqgeism · 2 months ago

Note

anaxa and phainon with a reader who has nightmares? :c (i havent slept in a week plz help me ╯︿╰)

hru doing btw? i hope ure good <3

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

love mail — hi anonnie!! thank u for the request, and yes i'm doing well ♡ ≡(＞。＜) i genuinely miss my colors sk bad... writing this in a bus since i wanna finish up some requests! hope you're alright anonnie :( hugs n kisses ! i hope u sleep good soon MUWAH

i don't think anaxa gets nightmares often, but he knows you do. actually, you got one on the very first night you two began sleeping together.. queue a somewhat panicked anaxa who is unsure how to help.

now that you two have lived together for a while, he's been trying to find different ways to help. big or small gestures, whatever stops your trembling form and shaky breaths.

one night, while you sleep in and anaxa stays up late in his lab — his usual silence is changed by a knock on the door, attention shifting from his research to something more important; the pretty little thing at his door. "it's bothering you again?" he doesn't even hesitate, turning his chair around as you throw yourself into his lap, curling against him to fit nicely as anaxa sighs. not of annoyance, far from, just.. worry. "i'm here if you need me. must it be words of comfort, or just a shoulder to lean on, i'm here."

hands that he's believed were unloveable slowly rub against your back, and in this moment anaxa can only think; they are safe here. it isn't exactly a statement, no, he's processing it. you find comfort in the shell of the person he once was, when he believed that no one could love him for who he was. yet you're here, seeking his warmth, his existence. to hide away from the nightmares that eat at you.

anaxa's research is forgotten, he doesn't mind. he'll be there for as long as you need him.

waking up panting and afraid sets something off in mydei, and he's just as fast to get up as you are. he turns on the bedside lamp and gently cups your face, guiding you to look at him and ground you back into the moment. you're not in a nightmare, you're home. you're with him, as you should be. unlike the terrors that rob you of peaceful slumber, you're with the embodiment of assurance.

slowly, carefully, he rubs your cheeks with his thumbs and shushes you softly. "you're here," he mumbles, kissing your temple in a way that lingers. "nothing can hurt you. not when i'm at your side, i'll sooner burn the bridges between life and death than let something hurt you.

if you fall back asleep quickly, he cuddles you as the big spoon and whispers comforting scenarios for you. hoping it'll trick your mind (the only form of manipulation he'll do) and give you sweet dreams instead. his firm, warm arms keeping you safe and quick to wake you if you start fussing again.

if not, and you seem to be too shaken to fall asleep, he'll help you do things you love to calm you down. tracing his markings, asking him questions or stories of his life, and his personal favorite.. letting him kiss all his favorite parts of you. honestly, just an excuse to lavish you in affection, but he's glad it helps. it soothes the silent battles of his mind, after all.

phainon's probably the most lighthearted of the three, when you jolt up from the initial nightmare, he's already holding your hand and letting you squeeze him as tight as you need it. sometimes, he lets out a fake wince so you snap out of it for a second out of concern, he takes that opportunity to compose himself and tease you about being a worrywart. he notices you frown, but begin to smile as he brings your hand to his lips — kissing your knuckles as he offers an ear to listen.

should you choose to talk about your terrors, phainon takes your words seriously and sincerely. he rests on your lap, or the other way around, and you play with each others hair depending on how it's positioned. (you like how soft his hair is, it kind of looks like cotton candy..) he listens to you and comforts you with little words of affection. "i'm so sorry, i'm here for you", "that's horrible. but you're here now, alright? i love you." and something along the lines of; "nothing will ever happen as long as i'm here, okay? i'll make sure of it."

if you don't, either too tired or just don't want to talk about it, phainon tries to make you laugh instead. embarrassing tales of his adventures, stupid jokes, even showing you saved videos on his phone. little things that he's noticed help you greatly.

and when you finally yawn, and he knows his job is done, he lets you lay on top of him and 'cages' you there. listening to the heart that beats for you as you drift off again, a reminder that you'll never be alone when you wake up, because you know you'll always have someone waiting for you.

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #mydei #mydei x reader #mydeimos x reader #anaxagoras x reader #anaxa x reader #anaxagoras #phainon x reader #phainon hsr x reader #phainon

384 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

Text

Long Snake Moan 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you're not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Loki glowers at the people around him as you approach. You have to resist the urge to turn and run away. Thor helps in that. You know he won’t let you turn back. Not to mention the man who sent you.

He looks over as Thor calls his name and slaps his arm, “told you, not very long at all.”

“Mmm,” Loki narrows his eyes and his lips thin. He sends you a cursory sneer. “You came all this way for... Stark’s minion?”

“I believe her title is Executive Assistant,” Thor corrects him.

You give a helpless look. A pursing of your lips that must look painful. Loki doesn’t look at you again. His cheeks tauten and his eyes roll towards the ceiling.

“Right, um, this isn’t very easy to say so... um, Mr...” You look at Thor and he just shrugs. “Loki, erm, alright. So the thing is--”

“Oh, you know, there’s a cafe I’ve been wanting to try. Steve, you know Steve, he recommended it. Why don’t we sit down and discuss?” Thor claps your back and nudges his brother. You grimace and Loki looks less than impressed.

“Be out with it.”

“Oh brother, don’t be rude. Come. You could do with a bit of a treat. You’re in a foul mood.” Thor reproaches.

“I wonder why that would be,” Loki hisses.

“Well, as I was saying, I saw they have a special on. A turtle donut? Turtle on a donut? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” he rambles and drags you both across the lobby.

“It’s not... well, doesn’t matter,” you let the murmur drift off.

You don’t have much of a choice, or the strength to resist him. You’re ushered out of Stark Tower and towards the cafe you pass on your way in. You stopped in once for one of their holiday lattes but you don’t often get the time to have coffee outside the stale breakroom brew.

Loki shakes off his brother and follows behind. Thor lets you in first and holds the door. He makes his brother go ahead of him and you join the queue around the counter.

“What would you like?” Thor asks.

You bob up and down as you search the cafe. You flinch as you realise he’s talking to you. “Oh, I’m fine--”

“I insist. Now please, coffee or tea? A late?”

“Latte,” Loki corrects him.

“Yes, that.” Thor laughs at himself.

“Well, I’ll just have a small tea. That’s fine. Um...” you look up at the menu, “Earl Grey is fine.”

“Black tea, large,” Loki starts before you’re even done speaking. “Since you’re being generous.”

Thor grins and leans over to look inside the display case. “No sweets?”

“No thanks.” You answer. Loki doesn’t acknowledge the question, instead glaring at those who stop to stare at his brother. Several lenses are aimed in Thor’s ambivalent direction.

“May as well find a seat,” Thor stands as the barista motions him up to the cashier, “I’ll find you.”

You glance over at Loki as he ignores you, rather pointedly as he lifts his nose. You shuffle away and go to an empty table in the corner. You sit against the wall and twiddle your fingers over the table.

To your surprise, Loki sits across from you. You fidget as your eyes continue to wander around him, never landing on him. He sighs and you chew your lip.

“Get on with it. I am not in the mood for socializing, especially not with... whatever you are.”

You tilt your head and your mouth. Right, this is not going to be fun. He has the right idea of it though. It’s best to just get it over with.

“Okay, uh, right, Loki, sir,” you twist your hand around your finger. “Prince?”

He blinks dully. You nod, egging yourself on.

“Mr. Stark sent me to tell you something. And I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this but--”

“Tea.” Thor booms as he drops into the chair next to his brother, nearly dropping his armload.

He doles out the cups and gleefully unwraps his donut. You’re sweltering as you notice the audience behind him, entranced by not only his size but his fame. Loki’s cheeks pinch in irritation as he peeks over his shoulder.

“So let me just get it done with. Um, you... you...” you frown and your eye brows dip down then pop up. You struggle to find the right way to say it. There really isn’t on. “You cannot stay on earth.”

Loki spins back to you, his chair scraping on the floor, and Thor chokes on his mouthful of chocolate, pecan, and dough. Both of them make confused noises.

“You’re being deported. I... I’m sorry.”

“Deported? Who says I cannot stay in Midgard? Who would make me leave?” Loki scoffs.

“It... it wasn’t my decision. I was only sent the paperwork and I tried to give it to Mr. Stark--”

“No doubt he had a hand in it. How can this be? I am a refugee. It was to my understanding that the status guarantees me safe harbour.” He blusters.

“Brother, please, don’t be angry at the little one. She is merely the harbinger.” Thor coaxes.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, squirming as your body’s encased in flame, “I understand it’s not ideal but--”

“You understand?! You understand nothing. My home was destroyed.” He snarls. “How is it I am to be dejected and my brother is free to stay?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I wasn’t... I didn’t...”

“Brother, please, she cannot be held responsible--”

“Don’t tell me who or what!” Loki shoves him away. “Curse this planet and curse Stark.”

A green flash has you flattened against the back of your chair and your vision speckles. You blink as only an empty chair remains next to Thor. He shakes his head at it and takes another bite. He looks at you and shrugs.

“Let him have his tantrum. We’ll simply have to try again.” He breaks off a piece of his donut, “you must try this. It doesn’t even taste like turtle. Much sweeter.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #series #long snake moan #au #drabble #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

310 notes · View notes

rogue-durin-16 · 2 months ago

Text

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XVII/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, violence, blood

A/N: god knows I wasn't gonna post this shit tomorrow if I had let it sit in my drafts for another day, so here comes yet another chapter written at an unholy hour. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

'I don't owe you an answer.'

'People fuck, Joe.'

'Calm down.'

Her words bounced inside my head like fucking ricochet. Up, down, side to side, hitting every spot of my skull, driving me insane with her faux indifference coated by the thinnest layer of sympathy.

What was even worse is that she wasn't wrong, was she? People do fuck, and she did not owe me answers. But after an entire day of looping those three sentences over and over and over until they lost their meaning, who was wrong or right mattered little.

The snow cushioned my bootsteps as I stalked across the Bois Jacques, cold biting through every layer like it wanted to take me out too. Ahead, the boys sat in a loose circle around what passed for lunch lately; cold beans, stale bread and shit jokes.

Chuck had his profile to me. That stupid lazy laugh of his carrying in the air like everything was fine. His face pivoted to my frame when he caught the determined movement in the corner of his eyes. My expression must have been too unmoved for him to read the room correctly.

"I'm not givin' you my beans, Lieb." He started, soft amusement stringing his tone. "You go make that queue like all—"

The punch landed square against his jaw—a clean right hook. No hesitation, no warning. Just frostbitten knuckles to bone and the thump of Chuck hitting the ground beside the lodge he had taken as seat.

"Jesus Christ!" More, who was the closest to Chuck, jolted up.

"What the hell, Joe?" Popeye questioned, kneeling down to pull up Chuck.

"What a fuckin' friend you are." I hissed, zeroed in on the blonde man, still too stunned to understand what had just happened. He blinked the sharp pain away, his gloved hand shooting up to his bleeding nose. Confusion danced in his eyes, as if he didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

That just made it worse.

Alley must have read it in the way my foot shifted forward as if I was planning to lunge at our friend again, because he was the first to grab me, pulling back hard by the arm. "Hey—hey, knock it off—"

"Let go." I growled, shoving him off.

"What's going on here?" Lieutenant Compton's voice cut in like a whipcrack as he approached, eyeing the blood on Chuck's face, then looking at me. "What's this about?"

My laugh scraped my throat on its way out, a pointer finger motioning at my friend. "Oh, he knows what this is about."

Chuck got up with Popeye's help, droplets of blood dripping past his lips and down to the snow. They bloomed red against the white like a goddamn warning flag.

His hand cradled his jaw, fingers checking for something broken with a wince. "Are you nuts?!"

"I don't know," I snapped, voice cracking with rage. "Am I?"

The men around us shared worried glances, some looking away, some staring too intently like I was a pinless grenade about to go off.

"Who told you?" He asked without shame or or any intention to pretend cluelessness, which only made the blow hit harder.

"Who the fuck else is gonna know, Grant?"

Silence. Heavy silence and a sorry glance from Chuck was what I needed to get the memo. The sarcasm hadn't landed because I had asked the wrong question. No one met my eyes when I vehemently searched for confirmation among the group of soldiers.

I was the last to find out.

Something in me buckled under the weight of it. The air turned heavier, bitter in my chest, burning down the little restraint I had when it came to fully take it out on Chuck.

"She told you." It wasn't a question, and it didn't need an answer. He sighed, wiping the blood off with his sleeve. "The hell'd she tell you for?"

I didn't even consider responding, choosing to throw another inquiry at him instead "You really weren't gonna tell me you fucked the—" I stopped myself, teeth grinding. "Her?"

"Somebody better explain to my what's going on." Buck command was clearly directed at me. I consciously chose to ignore it.

"You knew." I accused the bloodied man, guilt plastered all over his face in the same pathetic way heartbreak was plastered over mine. "You knew and you still fucked me over."

"I was gonna talk to you—"

"You're so full of shit."

"Liebgott." The officer's attempt to get my attention were useless. "You're out of line."

"I don't know what the fuck she told you," Chuck began, now obviously pissed. "but it was her idea."

"And you just—what? Rolled with it?!"

"So what if I did?!" Chuck yelled, losing whatever patience he thought he owed me. "Get your head outta your ass, Joe! She's a grown woman," his arm motioned at what seemed a general direction. Until I turned and saw her.

She stood right outside the scattered circle, trailing after Muck and Penkala with her recently poured portion of lunch, eyes slightly widened as if she was keeping herself on check in order not to give away too much.

"—and you're a big boy too, okay?" Chuck continued, taking a half step in my direction. He shouldn't have. "If you're so pissed maybe you should—"

An ugly crack echoed in the woods when my fist connected with Chuck's jaw again.

"LIEBGOTT!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

"GRAB HIM FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Everyone's panicked words meshed together, two pairs of hands grabbing me while my friends crowded around Chuck. The world blurred a little.

I didn't dare to look at her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The iced ground crunched like broken glass beneath our boots—sharp and loud in the quiet of the night. We weren’t that far from the treeline, but with the moon half-choked behind clouds, it felt like we were walking through the ribs of something long dead.

They'd sent us out to patrol the edge of Easy's perimeter. Said it was routine. Said it was quiet. Didn't mention how convenient it was, how it did the trick to keep us both out of everyone else's hair.

We knew what they were doing—keep us busy, keep us separate from the rest of the company, keep us from getting someone killed. But putting us together? That wasn't exactly brilliant.

In their defense, Y/n had been a last minute addition to Winters' charity collection of broken minds. I wasn't told exactly why she was here, and I didn't ask. Sink's runner had spread the word that she had lost it after seeing Toye and Guarnere torn up during a bad barrage. Maybe it was true, or maybe not, but after all she had been put through —all I had put her through—, a bad crashout was long overdue.

I just wished it would have happened a couple of days earlier, when every edge between us had been smoothed by the cold and the exhaustion, and not when we could barely look at each other.

Y/n walked three paces ahead, but I could see the tension in her shoulders nonetheless; the way her rifle was clenched too tight in her hands, the way she hadn't looked me in the eye once since they handed us this bullshit detail.

We moved through the woods, past the shell holes and splintered roots, Foy still visible in the distance. Her steps quickened. Mine decelerated out of spite.

"Slow down, will ya?" I muttered.

She didn't turn around. "Try to keep up."

The nerve.

"You always gotta run your goddamn mouth?"

That stopped her.

She turned slow, face shadowed by her helmet, eyes meaner than the forest we were trapped in. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." I took her halt as an opportunity to catch up until I was right beside her. "All night with that tone, like I'm the fucking problem here."

She took a half-step forward, close enough that her breath hit my collar when she spat out, "You are the fucking problem."

I couldn't help but scoff, looking past her to avoid aggravating myself even more. "You fuck Grant, out of everyone, and I'm the problem?"

"Who I fuck or don't fuck is none of your business." There was a twisted condescendance in her tone, tainted with smugness, as if she had me figured out and was done with it.

"It's none of my business?" I repeated, my voice jumping an octave out of indignation as I leaned forward just enough to be eye to eye with her. "You made it personal."

"I made it personal? Me?" She breathed out a humorless laugh, her index finger pointing at her chest.

"You went for my friend."

The sour smile twisting up the corner of her mouth vanished, his arm falling limply at her side. I could see the cogs in her head turning, crafting something that would hurt me. I spotted the exact instant in which she found it, and it was bad enough for her to hesitate.

She still said it.

"She looked like me."

With gritted teeth, my boots slid a little on the frost when I closed the space even more a bit too fast. "You gotta learn to shut up."

Her hand snapped out fast, gripping the collar of my jacket. "Do not get in my face, Liebgott." The side of her fist pressed against my chest, forcing a short distance between us; a false sense of safety. "I will fuck you up."

I didn't flinch. I didn't move. The question slipped out with bottled up resentment before I could think twice about it.

"More?" My lips twitched; not quite a smile. Not quite anything aside from a sign of me finding the moment fucking comical. "Maybe I should be the one fuckin' you up."

That hit something. Her hand clenched tighter in my coat, dragging me a little closer. We both swayed slightly at the sudden movement, boots slipping just an inch in the frozen mud.

"What?" she whispered. "You gonna try and break my jaw too?"

I stared at her, taking in the way her words landed like a punch to the ribs. "You think I'd hit you?"

She didn't blink. "Maybe."

"You don't fucking know me, then." I growled, tasting the way pain and anger mixed together in my tongue.

Her eyes narrowed like she was set on making me break beyond repair. "I know enough."

I grabbed the side of her jacket, mirroring her grip to yank her half an inch to me until we were toe-to-toe, our breaths fogging together in the frozen air.

"Let go of my damn uniform, Y/l/n."

"Fuck. You." she spat, venom coating the short sentence. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, inhaling sharply. Whatever she was about to say refused to reach my ears, so she swallowed and settled for something else. "Quit trying to mess me up."

"You first, sweetheart."

Our noses bumped when she angled her head with defiance and, for a second, what I felt wasn't rage. It wasn't betrayal. It wasn't the war or Chuck or the blood still stuck under my nails. It was just heat. Heat in the freezing dark and the fire burning her down behind glassy eyes.

I didn't know if I wanted to kiss her breathless or scream in her face until the knots twisting inside my throat loosened up. Maybe both.

I did neither.

83 notes · View notes