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#I’m a clown lover too but….
goofalicousgooberface · 11 months
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just finished killer klowns from outer space. I loved it, loved debbie mike and Dave, loved the ending. I just have one question. ….why do y’all want clown dick so bad… the entire tumblr fandom for this movie is THIRSTING over them. LIKE?!?????
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cto10121 · 1 year
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R&J Clown Takes Special Edition (+ Shakespeare Clownery)—My & Juliet Angst Is Killing Me
The Folgers alas stooped to interviewing the ~geniuses behind the jukebox musical & Juliet, and so of course they got to air out both their R&J and their Shakespeare clownery for the whole Internet, the finest meat for my clown-eatery. We feast tonight! Spoilers, of course
R&J Hate Dumb
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Romeo is many things, but shallow isn’t one of them. If he or Juliet were, their love affair would have been over when they first found out they were each other’s enemy. There is only one thing shallow about Shakespeare’s play and that is Veronian society itself, deliberately depicted as such.
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These knuckleheads then go on to reference Romeo bro-ing with his bros as “proof” of this. Never mind that Mercutio and Benvolio weren’t supposed to know about R&J’s relationship, no one could, so Romeo getting them off his tail and being normal can be in no way performative. Juliet has her Nurse on the know so she doesn’t have to perform either. And again, she has to make sure her parents aren’t on her tail. Even then, though, she makes sure not to lie (technically).
The only point where either Romeo and Juliet can be said to be in any way performative is Romeo’s “love” for Rosaline and Juliet having to come up with a diplomatic response to her mother and nurse on the question of marriage.
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“Older pair of lovers” with “Teenage Dream” with nightingale and lark rip-off…it’s giving unintentional parody. It’s giving “no thoughts, head empty.”
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Romeo “I killed myself for my true love and honored my rival’s dying request to be lain with her because of course that is perfectly logical to me” Montague, an ego?????? This is arguably worse than Fey!Romeo. What is with modern musicals and their insistence that every single male love interest/character be a huge egotistical dick?
Shakespeare Hate Dumb
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Because of course a small town 16th century SAHM who ran a merchant house and stored 800 bushels of malt for ale would be more ~progressive about gender and social issues than a classics-educated theater actor and writer who traveled England and wrote genderbending social comedies and whose sonnets are frequently interpreted as bierotic. Because men smart, woman smarter, always!!! No thoughts, head empty!!!!
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Die (Reprise, andante con grande emozione).
Also, Something Rotten called, they’re suing you for copyright infrigement. Is this Shakespeare going to complain about how it’s hard to be the bard too? Seriously, wtf?
Okay, so Tumblr won’t let me add in another screenshot, but I have to talk about the fact that these numbskulls straight up confessed they wanted to do a Max Martin musical (per producer diktat) and came up with the R&J plot afterward because, and I kid you not…most of Martin’s songs are about young teen love. 😑 Yeah, dude, like 95% of all pop music ever since the Beatles.
Also, also, not all songs about young teen love necessarily fit R&J!!! From what I can tell, the songs they chose have little to no relevance to the characters or dynamic at all, hence this new fanfic plot. And judging by the excerpts, I don’t think they even bothered changing the lyrics to fit the new context. They really should have just changed the names à la West Side Story, but they definitely knew the show wouldn’t have sold as well without the tie-in. It just pisses me off, this consistent disrespect for the source material all the while exploiting it for profit.
Bonus: Very ~Apropos Song Lyrics
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Because of course these lyrics about a breakup completely fit a girl who just found her love dead beside her, having committed suicide. 🙃 No thoughts, head empty
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kdramacrybaby · 2 years
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Okay I have some thoughts about this drama that I need to get out cause I don’t know how to feel about it just yet
#alchemy of souls: light and shadow#alchemy rant#alchemy of souls#drama rant#so on one side i am wanting so hard for bu-yeon to regain her memories#i wasn’t sure if i would like the explanation of how they brought her back but it does make sense within their universe so that’s#an issue for me#and every time she remembers something new I’m there 👀 like a complete clown cause i know it’s too early in the story for her to actually#remember just yet#destined lovers and all that is a pretty good trope that usually works for me and probably will in this drama too#buuuuut… on the other hand this version of Bu-yeon is probably my favorite version#i liked Mu-deok a lot don’t get me wrong#but there’s something about bu-yeon i like more#so thinking about how she may change drastically when getting her memories back makes me a bit sad#they’re probably not even that different and I’m just being dramatic but still#and somehow the story of Uk finding new love would be just as good to me i think#of course they would have to explain a bit more about naksu really being dead and all that#but i really wouldn’t have been that mad if bu-yeon had been a new seperate character and a new love interest#but then again Mu-deok (and previous Bu-yeon) and Uk were such a good couple too#i really can’t decide what i want the most right now#i know of course (or y’know am pretty sure) how it’ll go#but yeah#idk how to feel just yet#either way though i will probably still love the drama so 🤷🏼‍♀️
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flowersforbucky · 3 months
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oil & water
bucky barnes x reader
prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."
shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡
warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!
word count: 5.8k
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“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 
As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 
Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 
“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 
“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 
“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 
You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 
“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 
You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 
You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 
Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 
As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 
Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 
“Thanks, but I think I can–” 
Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.
“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 
He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–
Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 
Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.
“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 
“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 
“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 
“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 
“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 
“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 
You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 
Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 
“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 
He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 
Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 
“Never because of me.” 
You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 
“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 
“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 
“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 
“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 
You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 
All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 
The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 
You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 
No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 
The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 
“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 
“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 
“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 
“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 
Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.
Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.
Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 
Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 
“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 
“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 
“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 
“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 
“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 
You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 
“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 
Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 
You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 
“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.
You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 
You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 
— — — — — 
When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 
You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 
What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–
“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 
“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 
You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 
“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 
“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 
Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.
“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.
He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 
“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 
“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 
“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 
“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 
You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 
“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 
“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.
He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 
“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 
“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 
Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 
“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 
His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 
— — — — — 
The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 
Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 
You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 
A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 
Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 
Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 
The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 
“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 
You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 
The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 
The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 
And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 
“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 
“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 
Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 
After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 
“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 
“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 
There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 
"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 
Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 
“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 
“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 
“How about we make a bet?”
— — — — — 
Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 
“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 
“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 
You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 
“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  
Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 
You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 
Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 
Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 
You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.
“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 
“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 
“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 
“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 
He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 
“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 
You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 
“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 
He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 
“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 
“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 
Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 
“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 
Truth. 
“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 
Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 
“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 
You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 
“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 
“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 
When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 
“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 
“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 
His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.
His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.
“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 
Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 
He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 
“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 
You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 
He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 
“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 
“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 
A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 
You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 
The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 
You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 
“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 
“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 
“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 
“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 
Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 
You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 
With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 
You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 
“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 
He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.
“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 
You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 
You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 
When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 
The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 
You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 
You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 
You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 
He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 
You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 
A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 
You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 
“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 
“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 
“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 
He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 
Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 
He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 
His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 
"You're goddamn stunning.” 
Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 
He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 
There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 
You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 
He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 
"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 
“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 
Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 
“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 
His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 
With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 
He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 
“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 
He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 
“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.
“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 
♡♡♡♡♡
my masterlist
2K notes · View notes
revasserium · 1 year
Note
Can i request OPLA zoro where he doesn't get along with reader but calls her my girl in front of a baratie waiter who was flirting with her.
my girl
zoro; 2,438 words; fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, fem!reader, straw hat!reader, lots of banter, slow...burn?
summary: just cause you don't see eye to eye doesn't mean zoro's down to watch you get hit on while he's in the same bar, either.
a/n: again. i've got no excuse. pls continue to send more requests feed my opla!zoro obsession u__u
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it is perhaps what therapists and psychiatrists would call an incompatibility of character. or maybe something about you and him that simply acted like two jigsaw pieces from completely different puzzles. or maybe luffy had just jinxed it when he’d said the first time that he sensed some “tension amongst the crew”, but it’s no secret that you and zoro don’t exact see eye to eye.
in fact, sanji thinks, it might only be a matter of time before you each try to take the other’s eyes out permanently.
“you’re really not worried?” he asked luffy as they’d watched zoro and you bicker all the way down the wobbling boardwalk leading up to the baratie, you sniping at zoro for getting in your way and zoro biting back something equally acerbic and childish about you being too clumsy to be a good pirate.
“huh? why would i be worried? they get along just fine!” luffy had laughed, eyes bright and round as he’d readjusted his hat and bounded off towards the entrance, whooping about being hungry enough to take down an entire sea cow.
“wh —”
“bit rich, since you and zoro are always at each other’s throats, no?”
nami bumps sanji’s arm as she strolls by him with a stack of empty crates. sanji squawks, readjusting his own bags before jogging after her.
“c’mon, you know that’s different!”
nami smirks but doesn’t grace that with an answer, instead, she lets her eyes flicker back to where you and zoro are still snarking at each other even as the bewildered looking fishman at the front leads you all around back to the kitchen entrance.
“— wouldn’t have been in that situation if you’d just —”
“yeah? and if i’d just stayed put like you said, the entire going merry would’ve gone up in smoke cause last i checked, wood is very flammable!”
“the merry’s not that fragile.”
“you wanna bet?”
“yeah, maybe i do —”
“what’s goin’ on here? didn’t i tell you lot to get lost?” zeff’s gruff voice interrupts your bickering as the peg-legged chef looks from zoro to you and then the rest of the crew, “gotta new one, didya? don’t remember you from the last time these idiots were here.”
“she’s barely an upgrade from the clown head —”
you slam your heel into the toe of zoro’s boot and he hisses, nearly dropping his armful of crates.
“what he means is that i’m the brains of the operation —”
“we don’t need brains —”
“oh, so you’re admitting that you didn’t have any before i got here?”
zoro glares, dropping the crates as luffy pushes past you both to clap zeff on the shoulder and offer him a huge stack of berry.
“we came to pay you back for the meal last time! and to buy a new one! and… maybe some extra food stuff if you’ve got it.”
zeff opens his mouth to answer but it’s drowned out by the sound of your voice as you jab a finger into zoro’s chest.
“— just because you can’t hold more than one cohesive thought in your head at once doesn’t mean that —”
“— what’s that even supposed to mean? like you can think about two things at once?”
“enough! you two — outta the kitchen, now! i won’t have your lovesick teenage yappin’ distractin’ my line chefs!”
you both jump at zeff’s voice, and an unpleasant heat creeps into your cheeks as you realize that the entire kitchen had indeed gone very quiet, most of the white-clad workers staring at you and zoro.
“i need a drink,” zoro says, rolling his shoulders as he sidesteps you and pushes his way out of the kitchen.
“look, sir, i didn’t mean —” you take half a step forward but zeff jabs a finger at the doors still swinging in zoro’s wake.
“i said out!”
you glance between zeff and the rest of your crew for a split second before turning and scrambling from the kitchen, looking abashed.
“oh no, c’mon zeff, you didn’t need to yell at her like that —” sanji sighs as he tries to go after you, but nami nails him in the stomach with one of her arms.
“nope. this is something they need to work out on their own. and you’re on grocery shopping duty with me, remember?” she flashes him a smile even as he deflates slightly and turns back to the work of haggling rations out of the baratie’s storerooms.
you find zoro already posted up at the bar, even though the hour is still early enough that there’s only a few other patrons, mainly keeping to themselves. you fight the urge to march up to him and give him an earful about embarrassing you in front of sanji’s old master like that but zeff’s words about making a scene keeps your lips clamped shut.
instead, you seat yourself as far from zoro as humanly possible and wait for the bartender to sidle over. he flashes you a winning smile, making no attempt to conceal the way his eyes drag from your hair to your face and then down to your cleavage, where his gaze rests for a beat too long before he clears his throat.
“what can i get you, gorgeous? something sweet and bubbly, perhaps? or maybe something a bit more dark and… seductive? i can have a custom drink whipped up for you in a few if you’d like… on the house, of course.”
he shoots you a wink that has your eyebrows hiking up your forehead.
“laying it on thick, are we?”
the bartender shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm.
“place like this doesn’t exactly breed subtlety.”
you make a noncommittal noise before sighing, “i’ll have a dirty martini, shaken not stirred, straight, with a twist, please.”
to his credit, the bartender doesn’t miss a single beat, “ah, a woman of taste, though i’ll admit that i prefer my martini’s naked instead of shaken, hm?”
he waggles his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the loud cough from down the bar drawing the bartender’s attention, you would’ve rolled your eyes.
at the opposite end of the bar, zoro taps his empty drink glass against the waxy hardwood, a vein ticking in his jaw. he’d listened to the entire exchange with a growing annoyance festering in the depths of his stomach. and here he was, hoping for a moment of quiet without the sound of your voice yammering in his ear. he shoots the bartender a glowering look as the man refills his drink and tries to make his way back down the bar to you.
zoro tosses the entire drink back in one and sets the empty glass down with a loud clack, clearing his throat as the bartender turns to stare at him. he holds the man’s gaze for a full three seconds before looking pointedly down at his glass and the bartender’s face visibly reddens.
“here you are, sir — the last three are on the house.”
the bartender lines up five identical drinks in front of zoro before marching away and zoro has to give it to the guy. he does make a good, stiff drink.
still, as he tries his hardest not to glance down towards where you’re sitting, sipping slowly at your martini, he can’t help overhearing the stilted stabs at conversation floating down the length of the empty bar. the bartender lavishes you with questions, asking about your travels, who you came with, where you’re from. you, for your part, never give him an answer more than three words long — travels were good, my crew, an autumn island.
zoro briefly wonders why you don’t tell the guy off like you so often did him. then, he briefly wonders if the fact that you’re always so easily set off by him means something. then, he not-so-briefly wonders why, if he’s always been so bothered by you, that he’s still thinking about you in the precious few hours he has to himself.
he clicks his tongue and downs another drink just as you finish your first.
“c’mon darlin’ — just a hint — what about the first letter? shall i try to guess?”
you sigh into your now empty glass as the bartender asks your name for the third time in a row, though to no avail. suddenly, a warm, solid presence appears next to you and the next thing you know, zoro’s arm is brushing up against yours as he leans over the bar to bear down at the bartender.
“right, now if you’re done trying t’pick up my girl, i think i’d like the check.”
the bartender blinks up at zoro, uncomprehending for a second before a blotchy redness seeps into his cheeks.
“y-your — you haven’t said a word to each other since either of you got here!”
you swallow passed a bewildered laugh as you glance up at zoro to find a challenge clear in his eyes. you slowly swivel back to the bartender with a light smile.
“ever heard of a lover’s quarrel?”
the bartender sputters as he stares between the pair of you for another long second before scurrying off to fetch the check. zoro chuckles under his breath, his earrings clinking softly in the dim light.
“damn — i really wanted another drink,” you say, staring at your empty glass.
wordlessly, zoro plops one of his in front of you. it’s the second to last.
you bring it up to your nose for a sniff before making a face.
“god that smells awful!”
“fine then, more for me.”
“i didn’t say i wouldn’t drink it!”
you bring the glass to your lips for a small sip. it’s tastier than you’d imagined but it still burns a line down your throat as you shiver.
“h-holy shit —” you cough, wiping at your mouth, “how many of these have you had?”
zoro shrugs, sipping on his own glass with a careless ease, “dunno. don’t really keep count.”
“ugh… this could knock out a war elephant…” you make another face before you take a second sip.
“figures you can’t hold your liquor, drinkin’ whatever girly shit you ordered.”
you round on him, “martinis are not girly!”
“tch. whatever.”
you settle into a huffy silence. zoro’s arm is still pressed against yours and neither of you makes to pull away. for a while, the only sounds in the bar are the soft clink of ice on glass and the light, liquid splashing of the ocean waves.
“why didn’t you tell him off?” zoro’s voice is quiet and when you turn to look at him, it’s to find him staring. you hold his gaze steady and don’t look away.
“why should i? he’s no one to me.”
“you don’t seem to have a problem yellin’ at me.”
you shrug, your eyes flickering back to the too-strong drink in your hand.
“i don’t tend to waste my breath on people i don’t really care about,” you say, your voice soft and careful and honest. zoro sucks in a slow breath, his mildly alcohol addled brain trying to process what you’d just said but his thoughts are interrupted by a peel of loud, raucous laughter echoing in from the dining room beyond.
“c’mon, sounds like dinner is served,” you say, grinning as you push off the bar, jerking your head towards the dining room door.
zoro lets out the breath before downing the rest of his drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar to follow you.
at dinner, you bicker less than usual and zoro is even more quiet than he normally is. though he wastes no time ordering another round for the table. no one really comments till zeff comes round at the end with the check.
“dinner’s already paid for but i was told that this is for the ‘lovebirds from the bar’,” he says, as he drops the drinks bill in front of zoro with a deadpan sort of look.
for a full ten seconds, no one moves. and then, usopp’s jaws hit the floor as sanji’s eyebrows jerk towards the ceiling. nami sits back with a satisfied smirk as luffy nods happily at the two of you before turning to grin at sanji.
“see? told you they get along fine!”
sanji has the decency to sputter just as usopp leans forward to point between you and zoro.
“wait… whaattt?”
you make to tug out your wallet but zoro slaps a stack of berry on top of the bill.
“give our compliments to the bartender,” he says with a slight smirk as zeff takes the money, glancing up at the two of you.
“yeah? what’d he make that’s got you so impressed?”
you purse your lips as you make a show of shrugging, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.
“oh, just a mean dirty martini.”
zeff lets out a loud bark of laughter as he takes the berry and clomps back towards the kitchens, shaking his head. zoro chuckles beside you as he stretches an arm over his head and lets it settle casually on the booth back behind you.
later, as everyone is making their way back towards the going merry, nami catches up to you on the docks, looping an arm through yours and pinning you with a meaningful look just as sanji sidles up to zoro and bumps him with a shoulder.
“so…” nami says, grinning as she tugs you forward a few steps.
“so.” sanji clears his throat, casting zoro a sidelong glance.
“wanna tell me what that was about?” nami asks.
“care to elaborate on that back there?” sanji questions.
you and zoro both take a deep, long breath. zoro glances up to see the way you toss a lock of hair over your shoulder, your bright laughter carrying back on the breeze. you allow yourself a smile, and you don’t have to turn to feel zoro’s eyes on you as both of you turn to your respective companions and say —
“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
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opla!zoro reqs are (as always) open!!
3K notes · View notes
sortagaysortahigh · 13 days
Text
Operation Exemies to Lovers | Cregan Stark
A/N: Now yall know i have not written and finished a fic in a hot minute so sorry if this reads a bit wonky. Yk I'm an enemies to lovers and exes to lovers girl, so why not combine them both into a modern!cregan stark fic? Also, this is dialogue heavy as that's kind of my thing, if it's not yours, welpt keep scrolling boo I aint mad!. I also fixed the inc*st family tree so you'll see that in this as well (i'll prob keep it for future modern AUs). Anyways lmk what you think and enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so I pull quotes from my fics, sorry not sorry pookies
Summary: “So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-f*ck it out”
Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors (sue me!), kissing, mentions of smut/allusions to smut but no smut, arguing, Alyssane Blackwood slander (sorry girl), somewhat mean!reader, this is an AU where Aegon's not a bad guy!!!! just a clown <3, mentions of an ill parent, Baela be hitting Aegon (he earned it!), Aemond is still missing an eye sorry to the Aemond girls
Word Count: 6.4k (period I stuck to keeping it short and sweet)
Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader
“He’s staring at you again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, doing your best to focus on highlighting the passages about the few Westerosi Civil Wars that had happened centuries ago. It was already difficult enough to focus in the crowded library, midterms were killing everyone. 
It wasn’t a shock for the once quiet and almost empty library to be packed, especially with student athletes who were desperately catching up on their studies in attempts to pass all of their midterms, write endless essays, and practically beg their professors for extra credit via email. 
You should’ve been able to focus on the task at hand, studying with your best friends Baela and Rhaena for your upcoming history midterm, the exam itself would focus heavily on the several majors wars that shaped westerosi society as a whole, and would even include the transition from government leadership as a monarchy into a democracy. 
Hell you’d even have to describe what was once known as the ‘Iron Throne’ and its historical significance. Truthfully the large metal hunk of junk was now sitting in the King’s Landing Red Keep Memorial Museum.
Usually the library was the easiest place for the three of you to study, it wasn’t as loud as your fourth floor flat in one of the student apartment buildings off campus, it was usually pretty clean and well kept, plus every resource you could possibly need was somewhere within the large building. 
However today, your usually comfortable red leather-lined chair felt stiff and was making you hot, not to mention the lack of air flow and increased temperature due to the amount of body heat on each floor, then the lights were either too bright or too dim, and all you wanted to do was slam the books shut, grab your laptop and leave.
“Let him stare.” you muttered as you tried to keep your gaze on the text in front of you, however it was getting increasingly difficult as a very specific pair of eyes were practically burning a hole into your side. 
Gods, he was so obnoxious.
“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to hold onto the grudge against him, of course he totally earned it! I’m not downplaying your emotions but anytime he’s around you stiffen up like a virgin afraid of dick” your jaw dropped at Baela’s words, now staring at her, brows furrowed in shock.
“Baela! You can’t say things like that” Rhaena almost immediately swatted at her sister’s arm, shaking her head before tucking one of her loose locks behind her ear. “You really take after father sometimes.” 
Baela simply shrugged, glancing back at the two tables that were usually empty, now they were filled with six of the school’s hockey players, all spread apart with a plethora of books, laptops, pens, and notepads covering the tables. That’s also not counting all of their bags laying on the floor besides their chairs. 
“I get that you two broke up on not so good terms, but you should be showing him that you don’t care about him! Not that he makes you so angry you’re about to explode like a bomb in Mario Party”.
With that Baela turned her gaze back to her laptop, however at the sound of several texts chiming in at once to both Baela and Rhaena’s phones, you knew that their cousins had texted them once again. It made sense that they’d all shared a group chat, especially considering how close in age they were, and how large the Targaryen/Hightower/Velaryon family was. 
Of course the first time Baela had broken down their family tree you were incredibly confused. Her mother Laena Velaryon was married to Daemon Targaryen, who happened to be the uncle to her cousins Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s mother Rhaenyra. 
Now, Rhaenyra was married to Dr. Strong (or just Harwin as he’d asked you to call him once at a family gathering you’d been invited to, to which you quickly declined as he was your Literature professor), but based on the Targaryen’s political status within Westeros, their sons took their mother’s last name, not their father. 
Then comes Aegon and Aemond, now truthfully you’d met Aegon your second week of classes a few years ago when he’d caught you off guard, asked for your number, then got mad when you’d ghosted him after finding out he had a girlfriend! (Shame on him, truly). But you actually ended up being pretty good friends with the goof. 
Anyways, Aegon and Aemond were the children of Rhaenyra’s best friend, and now sister-in-law Alicent Hightower who married Rhaenyra’s only brother Baelon Targaryen. 
It’s also important to remember that throughout this entire family tree, which was in fact drawn out on construction paper for you, Alicent and Baelon also had two other children, Daeron and Halaena, both of them attending Sunspear University together. Then of course Rhaenyra and Dr.Strong (Harwin), have two much smaller sons, Aegon and Viserys, which was even more confusing considering you’d already met an Aegon.
Rhaena and Baela shared a look, and it was a look that worried you, so of course instead of being rational and brushing it off, you clenched your jaw as you slowly turned around, making eye contact with none other than your ex-boyfriend who’d been leaning his head against his hand and staring at you with what could only be described as a mournful lovesick expression.
You rolled your eyes, quickly turning back around before anyone else would look at you and do something that would probably piss you off. 
It also didn’t help that the cousins texting Baela and Rhaena were also seated at the table with your ex boyfriend. 
“Jace said that Cregan wants to talk to you but you blocked him, I don’t think you want to know what Aegon said, but it involved an eggplant emoji and a bed” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh while sitting up straight and shaking your head.
“He’s apologized a million times and has yet to tell me why he decided to go out of his way to not only break things off with me and tell me he still loved me in the same damn sentence, then go out the same night and end up on Aegon-Aegon of all people’s instagram story sucking face with that Blackwood bitch while she was on his lap.” 
You let out a cynical laugh of sorts, rolling your eyes once again. 
“Tell Cregan Stark that I’d rather fuck Aegon after one of his alley-way vomit sprees than ever talk to him again” however, before you could focus back on your studies, an amused laugh came from behind you before the chair next to you was pulled out, only for you to meet the gaze of Aegon Targaryen himself, a lopsided smile on his face with his brows wiggling in a playful suggestive manner.
“Well if I knew the easiest way to get you into my bed was to go drinking until I’m sick then I would’ve invited you out sooner baby” with that he leaned closer while making kissing noises, only to be met with your hand shoving his face away.
“Aeg, for the last time, she doesn’t want you like that” he feigned hurt at Rhaena, sliding back into the chair with his hand over his heart. 
“You wound me dear cousin! You wound me!” then he sat up straight, now looking back at you “so I was sent over here as a trusted messenger. My boy back there, you know him quite well, if y’know what I mean-” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down again, then you shoved him “-anyways, Cregan has been like all sulky and heartbroken and he really misses you. And he doesn’t want anything to do with Alysanne! She came onto him!, so can you give him another shot?”
With that you simply shook your head, quickly packing your things up while scoffing. 
“Tell your “boy back there”-” you spoke with air quotations “-that if he really gave a fuck about me, he shouldn’t have dumped me after two years for no god damn reason, then fucked that Blackwood bitch-who by the way is a fucking whore!” 
Your outburst was met with the looks of many, Rhaena quickly clearing her throat watching as you packed your things away. “What she means to say is, she doesn’t want to talk to him. I think it’s too fresh still”
Aegon scoffed “it’s been four months people! Four months! The summer ended, it’s a new semester, I think she can talk to him now” he glanced around the table, eyes widening as he watched Baela grasp quite the hefty textbook while glaring at him.
“Baela don’t hit me! I’m just saying! Listen-” but before he could finish you’d already gotten up and mumbled that you’d see them at home while you walked away.
Aegon paused, watching as you walked away, blatantly checking you out for a few moments, then you’d disappeared. He then turned around and motioned for someone to come to the table, this is what led both Jace and Luke to walk across the room and now sit where you were sitting and in the last empty seat of the table.
“Listen, we’re all tired of being caught in the middle of this awkward divorce alright. So we came up with a plan!” Baela shook her head while Rhaena sighed slightly.
“No offense Aeg, but your plans are always horrible, need I remind you of Aemond’s missing eyeball?” Luke winced slightly, remembering the day he’d accidentally hit Aemond in the eye with a firewood poker when swinging it behind him.
Truthfully, Luke had no idea Aemond had entered the room when he and Aegon were ‘dueling’ one another, however he’d felt his poker hit something, and he heard Aemond’s loud scream of pain. 
They’d all been kids when that happened, and to make it worse it occurred on their grandfather’s birthday when everyone had traveled to King’s Landing for a large birthday dinner/family holiday.
“She’s got a point there Aegon, but-guys-we all came up with the idea together!” Luke placed his hands on the shoulder of his cousin and his brother, smiling widely while Baela and Rhaena both shook their heads in disappointment.
“Okay, you win, but if the idea is bad, Baela’s going to smack Aegon with that textbook, so pray it’s not bad” they all nodded, Aegon scooting back slightly.
“So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-fuck it out”
He paused to take a quick breath “But we can’t let them in on the plan, otherwise Cregan’s gonna be all like ‘oh my god no she hates me, the love of my life hates me I can’t torture her, blah blah blah, I’m so nice and honorable, blah blah’ and she’s gonna be like ‘fuck that, I’ll kill him for fucking that Blackwood bitch and dumping me for no god damn reason’. Also I don’t think he ever fucked Alysanne-but I did-niether here nor there though!” 
Jace and Luke looked at Baela and Rhaena as if they were waiting to be yelled at by their mother, meanwhile Aegon smiled and nodded after his long winded explanation.
Rhaena spoke first “y’know honestly, your impression of her is pretty spot on.” Baela nodded her head in agreement before adding in “but if this doesn’t work, and she finds out, she’ll want to kill all of you and Cregan. I’m sure you all have realized being on her shit list isn’t exactly the best”
Jace nodded, glancing back at Cregan who was finally focusing on his statistics work with a stoic expression on his face. “Listen, if it doesn’t work and she kicks our asses that’s fine, but we at least have to try! I mean come on Rhae you told me that she cries over him still! And he’s no better. There might not be tears but he’s so long winded and mopey”
He then sighed, patting Luke on the back “I think this is our best shot. I mean c’mon they’re some of your guys' closest friends, and Winterfell over there’s my best friend that I’m not related to-oddly enough they’re pretty rare these days. They used to be so happy together! Now look at them both”
Baela sighed, nodding her head as she finally set the books in her hands down “she’s definitely not really herself anymore. Maybe if it doesn’t work, then at least they’ll both get closure from their relationship”.
Aegon smiled, nodding rapidly again “see! You guys get it!. Also don’t tell Aemond either, y’know he’s too ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass’ sometimes. We can call it operation-uh what’s the book trope that Helaena called it again-one second everyone!” he paused, grabbing his phone from his pocket before quickly calling his sister.
“Hey Hel, yeah yeah I’m good, what did you call that book again! The one where they were like forced to be around eachother then fuck it out and get married and shit?” 
Several hundred miles away, Helaena was grasping her nose bridge as she let out a deep sigh, her brother truly was a character.
“Oh-okay! Got it-thanks so much Hel, love you too! Give Daeron my love and remind him to wrap it up with those Dornish baddies!” with that he hung up the phone before meeting Baela’s disgusted glare.
“You’re so gross, Aeg. And stop saying the word baddies-you sound so cringey!” he simply shrugged at her.
“Anyways, now that we’re done being rude and judgemental to our baddie eldest cousin who’s super smart, funny, and beautiful, we’ll call it operation enemies to lovers!” 
Rhaena raised a brow “wouldn’t it actually be exes to lovers? Since they’re exes? I guess they might also be enemies based on the way she wants to wring his neck-and not how she used to-” with that her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth.
Jace sighed “don’t worry Rhae, we already know about the shit he let her do to him. Young love, what can I say” 
Aegon nodded his head, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again, then he slightly elbowed Luke, who met his gaze with a laugh before they both spoke in unison “kinky innit”.
“Anyways-are we doing this or not? I’ve got a history midterm to study for and you three are interrupting it, and it’s bad enough that Aegon already made the smartest person we know leave” It was clear that Baela was losing her patience.
“Oh come on Bales! Y’know if you’re still interested I can set you up with ol Benji over there, heard he’s a freak in the she-” there it was, the book smacking him in the face “-ow Baela! Jesus! You’re just like your dad! Mean and ever so beautiful to look at” he winked.
“Gross man, she’s our cousin!” he shrugged “didn’t stop our ancestors, okay fine-fine! I didn’t mean it okay! Shit. you all are so violent. The blood of the dragon I guess”.
-
Three days have passed and the TarVelTower group chat had been in constant communication about ‘operation exemies to lovers’ with the additional confused replies from those that were not present in the library that day.
They were planning a game night, it was something they’d all done in the past, inviting their other friends to come along as well for drinks and a night of utter tomfoolery. Baela and Rhaena had done everything but swear on the Old Gods themselves that Cregan wouldn’t be there, meanwhile Jace, Luke, and Aegon had to practically beg Cregan to come to Jace’s for the game night.
It was also a plus that most of them lived in the same building. Dragonstone University wasn’t that large, not compared to other schools such as Sunspear, Driftmark, or even Harrenhall-although it was rumored that Harrenhal U was in fact haunted, that’s probably what brought so many to the school in the first place.
Baela and Rhaena had to drag you out of your bed after your post-class nap and usher you into the shower, stating that you ‘stunk of outside’, which was rather rude considering your only classes today were virtual. 
They’d mentioned the game night several times, and each time you asked if Cregan would be there, they’d said no, which you found a bit odd considering Jace was literally his best friend and probably closest confidant. Maybe his father had come down from Winterfell again, but you were thankful that he wouldn’t be present to ruin your mood.
All you had to do was take the elevator up two floors, so all you did was shower and throw on a pair of sweats and one of Aegon’s many discarded team sweatshirts. It had his number on it and even after washing it what felt like a million times, it still smelled like his overly strong cologne that he claimed ‘the ladies love’.
He’d also told you that maybe you were an ogre for not loving it, which of course even further solidified your friendship with the moron (lovingly).
You took time to braid your hair, knowing that you’d probably wake up hungover without a want or a need to brush it, so this was just easier. Then you’d foregone makeup, knowing you truly didn’t care how people saw you, especially not your friends. 
Of course the one thing you’d always contemplated wearing sat on your desk, the thin gold chain adorned with a small charm in the shape of a howling wolf. It was as if it sat mocking you because almost everyday you’d stare at it while getting ready.
You’d worn it everyday for a year after Cregan gifted it to you. He randomly showed up at your door one day, slightly out of breath, a wide smile on his face with his disheveled hair pulled back. One hand rubbed against his short beard, while the other held a small black gift bag. He looked as if he’d run here, then was contemplating the decision to run in the first place.
Then he’d kissed you gently, a smile you rarely wore now, adorned your face then.
When you invited him in, he was quick to follow, shutting and locking your door behind him while you made your way to the small kitchen, grabbing him something to drink as he caught his breath.
Then as you spun around to hand him the drink, he held the bag out for you, practically forcing you to open it (it wasn’t forceful at all, rather when you declined opening it immediately, he didn’t hesitate to place the strings of the bag between his teeth before picking you up, then plopping you down onto the couch, soft giggles leaving your lips when he climbed right on top of you.).
You remembered him watching as you opened it, he held himself up overtop you, while you easily pulled the small jewelry box out of the packaging, then when you opened it he looked almost nervous, as if you wouldn’t like it.
But you’d kissed him, pulling him down into your lips, thanking him between rushed kisses. 
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it before grasping the necklace and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d tell yourself-until you’d go looking for a pen and see it again.
Rhaena’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts completely, she stood in your doorframe, her posture a little too straight, which would’ve normally thrown you off, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you were trying to shake off the feeling of heartbreak.
“You ready? I’ve got the snacks already packed to bring up, you’ve just got to grab our blankets. Baela’s already there helping set up. Aeg said he’d give her twenty bucks if she’d actually arrive earlier than him for once” you laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.
It was no secret that Aegon and Baela were incredibly competitive, and as cousins, they had what could only be described as a sibling rivalry, always trying to one up one another when they could, and making stupid bets over random things.
You actually liked that they were all so close, when you’d befriended Rhaena, you never thought that she and her sister would come with a large family that would welcome you in with open arms.
“Yeah, just, let me-um-get my shoes, yeah my shoes. Sorry” you were mumbling and stuttering as you walked to the shoe rack beside your door, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers before following Rhaena to the living room, grasping the small pile of throw blankets before the both of you left your apartment. She was quick to lock the door, then you both headed upstairs.
You were still technically early when you arrived, and as you entered the apartment Aegon was handing Baela a $20 bill, while she smirked. Luke was laying on one of the couches on his phone, Jace was putting drinks in the fridge with the help of Benji who honestly looked happy to be there. Meanwhile Aemond sat reading whatever random philosophical book he’d chosen for the week, and to your surprise, Helaena was pulling what smelled like cookies out of the oven.
“Hel! You’re here!” she smiled when she saw you, placing the tray down before meeting your embrace. “Yea, I actually was visiting my parents and Aegon picked me up earlier.” you smiled at that, you enjoyed her company, even if it was a rare occurrence. 
By the time everyone was settled in, around forty-five minutes had passed, and everything was nice. For the first time in a while you weren’t on edge, which was definitely noticeable, and you’d actually managed to relax into the large bean bag below you. Even if it did remind you of a certain someone.
Then, it was as if you’d summoned the asshole himself.
Jace was quick to shoot up and walk to the door, glancing at his phone nervously. Then he opened the door, nervously laughing for a few moments.
Then you spotted him. Not before Aegon, who was already tipsy, had managed to shoot up from his spot on the ground “Cregan! Glad you could make it man!”.
Baela and Rhaena watched as you let out a deep sigh, it was clear you didn’t want to ruin the night, so you simply turned to face away from the door, burying yourself further into the bean bag, covering yourself in the throw blanket as much as you could.
It’s important to mention that the bean bag happened to be big enough for two people, and for a long time, it’s where you would sit with Cregan, well technically, given his size, you’d be cuddled up together, and now, as his gaze found you ignoring him on that bean bag, the gloomy cloud that followed him around had resurfaced.’
After a few tense moments of silence, everyone commenced what they were doing.
Aegon, still standing, held up a deck of cards.
“For today’s game night we’re gonna need to partner up! Rhaena, you’re with me tonight! I need your smarticle particles!” you blinked slowly, Rhaena was usually your partner. Then you sat in silence as you watched everyone partner up.
Baela was shoved into Benji-literally shoved by Aegon. 
Aemond chose Luke as he stated their team needed “balance”, which actually made a lot of sense considering Aemond was always somewhat brooding, and Luke was a ray of sunshine.
Jace glanced between Helaena and Cregan, but when Baela shot him a pointed look-missed completely by you-he chose Helaena.
Which of course left you with the one person you wanted nothing to do with.
Rhaena tried breaking the ice, watching as Cregan awkwardly sat in the armchair beside the beanbag. “It looks like our old winning team is back together!” you were the first to scoff.
“Hey! They used to cheat!” you couldn’t stop yourself from responding to Aegon “actually he waited until we broke up for that”. As you spoke, everyone’s eyes widened, meanwhile you remained in your spot, staring at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram.
However, as good of a guy that Cregan Stark is, you were the only person that was ever able to bring a different side out of him. You two rarely fought, but when you did, it was almost catastrophic and usually ended in very rough sex, or a heartwarming apology after ignoring one another for a few days. 
But you’d never broken up, you both took time to cool off in whatever way you needed.
Things are different now.
“For the last time, she came onto me! I’ve told you this thousands of times!” As he raised his voice, the frustration in his tone was evident, and his accent sounded thicker than usual-a key indicator that he was upset. So instead of backing down, you scoffed, now looking at him, fury evident on your features. 
“Yeah because a man your fucking size was so easily overpowered by her right! She just waltzed right up to you and beat you into submission or something?! Oh fuck you Cregan!” 
The two of you held eye contact, anger and frustration evident.
Aegon slowly sat down, leaning towards Jace and whispering “I think it’s working”, meanwhile Jace shook his head, having been witness to the few fights that you’d actually had with Cregan in the past.
“What would you have wanted me to do, I was shitfaced! Was I supposed to shove her to the ground and tell her to go fuck herself?!” you nodded your head at that, now sitting up, even closer to him than before. He stared down at you as you stared up at him.
“Yeah actually, that’s the best fucking idea I’d say you’ve ever had!” he scoffed.
“We weren’t even together and you hold that against me! Still!” That's what sent you over the edge.
“You fucking dumped me for no god damn reason, told me you loved me, and then went and fucked that Blackwood Bitch! The same fucking day! As if I meant nothing to you, we were together for two years Cregan! Two fucking years!” 
He heard the crack in your voice, everyone did. As you stared at him, he could see the way your eyes glossed over, he knew you too well. He knew the tears were coming.
“I tried to talk to you-you didn’t wanna hear anything!” you shrugged, gathering your things as fast as you possibly could, now looking anywhere but him.
“You don’t fucking deserve to talk to me you asshole”. Then you stood up and did what you always do in these situations, you ran away and left.
He was left there in shock, staring at the door, jaw clenched while he watched you leave. 
“Well that’s one way to start a game night” 
“Aegon shut up!” cue the smack “Ow! Baela! Stop hitting me! Go hit Benji, he likes that shit!-ow! Seriously?! Jace and Luke, get your cousin!”
Then in unison “she’s your cousin too!”
And finally, Benji piped up “is she talking about my cousin?” 
Instead of watching you waltz away, Cregan stood up, grabbing his things and mumbling his own apologies. Then he left, he knew exactly where you lived, so instead of taking the elevator, he rushed down the stairs, trying to cool off. 
When he stood in front of your door, it felt like a routine, something his body was so used to. As if this was muscle memory for him.
Then he knocked, once. No response. 
Twice. Nothing. 
Three times-maybe third times a charm. Nothing.
He stood there, his forehead leaned against the door. Cregan Stark was not a man of regrets, hell he prided himself on actually being a good guy, he was raised to be respectful, to be kind, to be strong, Stark men were not assholes. They weren’t childish, they weren’t selfish, they were supposed to be honorable in every way.
But here he is, leaning against his ex-girlfriend’s door, still in love with her, full of regret for ever breaking things off. He hadn’t even explained himself. He wanted to-he’d tried that day, but you stormed out, tears that he’d caused flowing down your cheeks. 
Then he felt the door shift, and you stood there, wrapped in the same blanket, eyes red as you stared up at him.
Gods, all he wanted to do was tell you he loved you, that he needed you, that you made him feel whole.
“I don’t have any fight left in me Cregan. It’s been months, why can’t you just leave me alone.” 
“Because I love you.” you sighed, shaking your head “no you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left me.” 
Sure you might’ve been being dramatic, but truthfully, you’d been heartbroken for months, following your breakup you’d lost ten pounds in two weeks. You’d never felt worse, and now, you were starting to feel alright, but it was no secret that there had been many nights full of tears, hugging a sweatshirt that you’d never washed, hoping to preserve the smell of his cologne.
“Can you just fucking listen to me for five minutes, please, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, just please-let me talk to you” you shrugged.
“Why?” he blinked a few times, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair-hair that you used to always touch, forcing him to sit between your thighs while you braid his hair, laughing when he’d complain, or when he’d do poses for you after you’d finished.
“I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you, I go to sleep at night and my dreams are filled with you, your smile, your laugh, even your fucking frowns. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. My heart fucking yearns for you. I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way your breath felt against my neck, Gods, I think about you 24/7! I think about everything that I did, the way that I screwed up-I screwed us up. I love you! I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if that’s what you want!” 
You didn’t bother wiping away your tears, instead you stepped aside, leaving room for him to come in.
“You want to talk then talk.”
Then he walked inside, and shut the door the same way he used to. 
It truly was muscle memory, the way he walked to the couch and sat down in the same spot he was always in, then he waited for you.
He watched as you slowly sat next to him, still wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito-Gods he spent too much time around Aegon. He didn’t hesitate to wipe the tears from under one of your eyes with his thumb, repeating the action on the other cheek.
“I didn’t want to break up with you. I never wanted to break up with you. My father’s-well he’s sick at home, I was going to leave, go back to Winterfell to take care of him, to take care of everyone. I just-I didn’t want you to be alone here, and I didn’t want to be your long distance boyfriend that you only ever see on fucking facetime. I just-I couldn’t do it.” 
You were silent, watching as he broke slightly, his voice cracking at the mention of his father, then at the mention of you being alone. 
It was no secret that Cregan and his father were close, you’d met Rickon Stark twice, and each time he’d embraced you with open arms and a warm heart. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shrugged.
“Because, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to know my duty to my family, I’m supposed to be there for them, and it was hard-hard to say that I had to leave you for an unknown amount of time. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go a day without seeing you, you make me crazy in the best way, even now, whenever I see you on campus my heart practically flies out of my chest. Seeing you at my games, you’re like a ghost haunting me.” 
You slowly nodded, listening to him, watching the way he’d blink away his tears, the way his brows would furrow and jaw would clench slightly. 
“My dad’s the one who told me to stay. Told me not to throw my future away, that he’d be alright, y’know he’s a fighter-always has been. Told me to get my girl back-” he let out a small chuckle, the laugh laced in sadness “-but I think she doesn’t want me back. I went back up after we split up, just for a week, and he told me I was an idiot to leave it all behind. A full ride to Uni if I kept playing hockey? The girl of my dreams? Called me a bloke before he told me that he’s okay, he’s not letting go anytime soon” 
Cregan hadn’t been looking at you, he was focused on his hands, fists clenching slightly as he tried to swallow his own emotions. He hadn’t noticed the way that you’d been inching closer, not until your arms were wrapped around him, head leaning against his shoulder.
“You could’ve just told me from the beginning. I would’ve been your facetime girlfriend y’know? Would’ve figured out a way up there”
The familiarity of it all was what made him break, a small sob leaving his lips while you held him. It didn’t take long for you to shove him further into the couch and climb into his lap, the same way you used to when all you wanted to do was be as close to him as possible.
You held him, sat atop one of his thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried into your shoulder. His arms gripping your waist, holding you against him. 
This is what should’ve happened all those months ago.
“I’m sorry for being a bitch” he laughed at that, and you felt his small smile. Meanwhile you ran a hand through his hair, fingers dancing through the dark locks before slowly running against his scalp. Your other hand traced small circles against his shoulder blade, you missed this.
You missed him.
“You weren’t a bitch-I probably deserved that.” you scoffed, moving back slightly, now holding eye contact with him as you brushed his tears away. “I was a bitch, I was the biggest bitch ever.”
He smiled, shaking his head “She really did come onto me. I did push her off-” you shushed him “I know. I believe you, I just-I dunno. I was hurt, then I saw that and it just stayed with me. I figured you dumped me for someone else, someone better-” he cut you off with a kiss.
It was so gentle, so soft, so sweet. Then he pulled away “there’s no one better than you for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I just-I didn’t want to look weak and I didn’t want to leave you and-” you shushed him again, this time holding a hand against his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up Cregan Stark.” Your tone was light hearted as you shook your head “You’re not weak for having emotions, and you aren’t weak for wanting to care for those that you love. Don’t be stupid, we’ve both been stupid enough.” he nodded his head, then you slid her hand down, now caressing his face, your thumb lightly pulling on his bottom lip.
“I missed you” you smiled, a small giggle leaving your lips.
“Based on the way you stare, I could tell” he rolled his eyes “gotta commit your beauty to memory somehow” you slightly shoved his shoulder “you cornball!” 
“I missed you too loverboy”
Then you kissed him again, a slow, passionate kiss full of emotions, smiles, and even a few giggles. He then slid his hands under your sweatshirt, and you quickly pulled apart, letting him take it off, leaving you in just your bralette, then his lips were on yours again.
Before anything else could happen the front door swung open, startling you both, leading to Cregan’s grip against you tightening, meanwhile Aegon and Jace both hit the floor, while Luke stood there awkwardly, Rhaena shook her head, and Baela looked as if she was being held back by Benji. Meanwhile Helaena and Aemond were nowhere to be seen.
At least until they moved closer to the doorway, both of them shaking their heads and muttering “fucking Aegon” in unison.
“I told you guys it would work! Look at them! Kissing and close!” Aegon still spoke, even from the floor while Jace was on top of him. Then Jace slowly rolled off, letting out an ‘oof’. 
“Were you all eavesdropping?” Aegon blinked a few times at your question, glancing back at everyone else. Then you noticed the flush on Luke’s face and Rhaena’s awkward expression. Plus Jace was nodding his head. 
“Why did the Gods make him our brother?” Aemond shook his head “I truly do not know.” 
“So are you two back together now?” 
You sighed, standing up and grasping Cregan’s hand, pulling him towards your bedroom.
Cregan glanced back, still laughing at the scene “yes. Now please, fuck off mate”
With that you pulled him into your room and locked the door.
“They’re all the worst” he nodded his head at you, he’d expected you to pull him into your bed, however you walked towards your desk, rummaging through the different drawers until you found something. 
You glanced at him “can you help me with this”, while holding up the necklace.
“I’d be honored” you rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face while he walked over, taking the necklace then as gently as possible, clasping it around your neck. Then he left a line of open mouthed kisses from below your right ear, to the edge of your shoulder. 
“I love you” his voice was soft, a whisper, almost as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.
You smiled, spinning around, one hand now on his face, the other on the back of his neck, fingers tracing circles through his hair. “I love you too”
-
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Girl it dont exist LMAO
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srjlvr · 13 days
Text
,, 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT MY EX ’’
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JUST when you thought your life couldn’t get any worse after your biggest break up of the year, someone posted your (very) much hateful list about your ex.
PAIRING. Ex!jake X Ex-fem!Reader
GENRE. fluff(look at me putting this first in genre) , angst , exes to lovers.
WARNINGS. y/n is kind of a bitch towards jake ig, jake is a big big player, lots of miscommunications, also very much not proofread!! i shall add more if i missed something!
WORD-COUNT. 7.8k+
NOTE. there we go again with this story cover, im outta here, graphics and me are not friends UGH i gotta start paying for someone to actually do this for me smh. anyways!! everything here is FICTIONAL!! i do NOT see jake nor any of the characters like that in any way!! if you don’t like it—youre very welcomed to skip!!
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you thought you had your brightest future in your hands.
being an ace student, scoring A+ in all of your tests and winning the teacher’s favoritism, all of that while also being the most popular cheerleader of your school.
you’re literally living everyone’s dream, not only being a popular student, but also dating the most popular student who also happened to be your highschool’s basketball team leader, jake sim.
girls swoon for him, beg him to notice them, even go as far as to send him gifts that costs probably more than their own house, but no, his eyes search for one person and one person only, and that’d be you.
“i’m sorry, i can’t continue all of this”
“this? what do you mean—“
“i mean us, this relationship, i don’t think it’s going to work anymore”
“oh”
“that’s all you got to say?”
“do you expect me to cry and get on my knees, begging you to regret this?”
“what?”
“speechless now, are we? i’ve been waiting for this day”
denial was your best friend, and you might’ve realized it a bit too late.
you were hurt, fuck you wanted to break down and cry. but he doesn’t deserve to see that.
you ignored so many red flags in your relationship, you were lovesick and pathetic, all for him, it broke you apart. but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
“y/n…”
“i don’t want to hear it jake, i’m actually glad you took this step”
you’re not glad at all, you do love him.
“i wish you the best” he said quietly and left.
this whole relationship felt like a mistake for the both of you, it was toxic, too toxic.
like those you see on TV shows where the popular girl and guy just date for fame and nothing more, yeah, just like that.
but you loved each other, you really did. communication was your biggest enemy, and that’s what lead to this whole toxic relationship mess.
“what a fucking asshole! it hasn’t even been a month and he’s already all over the girls! pathetic”
“yeji!”
your best friend rolled her eyes, “am i wrong? he was always a player”
you shook your head.
she wasn’t totally wrong, even before you started dating he used to hold a different girl in his hands every other day.
big player indeed.
you on the other hand, no matter how popular you were, you stayed reserved. many boys tried their luck, but it was no use.
though being reserved, you didn’t mind the looks the other boys gave you, and took every chance you had to show yourself off.
therefore it was so surprising to everyone that you and jake started dating.
the biggest player and the reserved popular girl, dating? this had to be a joke.
the truth is that jake had been keeping his eyes on you for long, and he knew that he has to hold you in his arms and show you that a player like him can actually love.
at first it took him time to break down your walls, but he did his best to assure you that he’ll never let anything bad happen to you.
that was….well, until he decided to break things off.
“yeah, he was, once a player, always a player” you agreed with her, glancing at jake and rolling your eyes when noticing that the girl he was flirting with is having too much fun.
“let’s just go, i’m tired of watching those clowns” you sighed and walked away.
“y/n! i’m sorry you had to witness….well—“
“it’s okay sunghoon, really”
before you and yeji could walk too far, sunghoon stopped you.
sunghoon is jake’s best friend, you and him weren’t the best at making conversation while you and jake were still together, but when you broke up, something changed between the two of you.
“don’t mind him, he can be a total asshole sometimes”
“sometimes?” yeji chuckled and sunghoon nervously scratched his nape.
“thank you sunghoon, i’m fine though” you gave him a weak smile and walked away.
“well if there’s one thing that’s good about jake is that his best friend is smoking hot and totally into you!!” yeji clapped her hands.
you rolled your eyes in disbelief, “yeji i don’t think you get it, he’s just being nice because he feels bad about his best friend acting like a dickhead”
“oh y/n, i can read face expressions, he’d definitely ask you out if only things weren’t so difficult”
“don’t push it!”
“that’s the ONLY good thing about jake though, i feel bad for that walking red flag, he’s so bad at keeping his relationships”
“i should make a list of things that i hate about him and send it to every girl in school so they’d know they need to run away from him!” you joked.
“i’d definitely help you, i’m sure as hell that it’ll make his ugly face vanish” she was joking as well.
you both were joking, you knew it very well.
so how the hell did you find yourself sitting in your room desk, writing a list about the things you hate about your ex?
“one, he’s smoking hot, his visuals can mess up your mind” you’re writing everything down as you’re saying them out loud.
complimenting him on your first point? way to go girl!
“two, he’s a big fat player, once your date is over he’s already probably running to find his next” you rolled your eyes to this one.
not even a month passed and he’s already flirting with others? what a loser!
“three, so full of himself! it actually hurts to see a person who loves himself so much he could probably die!”
that one time he wouldn’t stop talking about how many girls asked him out in one night? yickes!
“four, so toxic and possessive! don’t want you around any guy while he walks around and talks with any girl he sees”
when he got jealous that you spoke with your childhood friend about the most random thing ever? disgusting!
“five, puts milk before cereal, i don’t even need to explain!”
a walking red flag or what?
after finishing the rest five points you had to make, you decided to call it a night and drifted away to dreamland.
“psst”
“hm?”
“i know we were joking about the hateful list yesterday, but i actually made it”
“what?!”
you put your hand over yeji’s mouth and giggled.
“it just felt so good! i feel so relieved now! i don’t even want to post it, but it just felt so right to just let everything out”
“so proud of you, girl! finally let it go and move on!!” she pat your shoulder and then proceeded to hug you.
“where did you hide that list?” she raised her brow.
“i just brought it with me today, i put it in my locker and i’ll probably burn it by the end of the day, i just wanted to show it to you first before i do it”
“now that’s my girl!”
yeji is the bestest friend you could’ve ever asked for. she was always there for you.
ever since you were little you were stuck like a glue, you had each other’s backs and you were more than thankful to have her in your life.
“hey y/n! i was just wondering, do you perhaps have notes for the last maths class? i missed it because of practice and i’d really like some help” sunghoon showed up with a grin.
“sure, they’re in my locker, i’ll bring it to you” you nodded and he shook his head.
“i’ll come with you”
“oh? okay”
he followed you to your locker and waited for you to give him the notes.
“what’s in this paper?” he asked as he looked at the very cute designed paper.
“oh? that’s nothing really” you shrugged it off and quickly closed your locker, “bring them back to me when you finish”
“i will, thank you!” he said and walked away.
you opened your locker again to take out the paper, you sighed heavily and shoved it into your bag.
“six, he can’t keep his promises! if he’ll ever tell you he’ll play some video games with you, don’t believe it!!” yeji read it out loud and laughed.
you laughed with her, suddenly finding this list so funny.
“seven, his puppy eyes are definitely misleading! he’s a one manipulative bitch and he won’t be afraid to use his cute puppy eyes!” she rolled her eyes, “is that a good or a bad thing?”
“bad thing obviously! it’s literally written there that he’s manipulative!”
“girls love puppy eyes! you should know that!” she preached and you rolled your eyes.
you spent the rest of your lunch break giggling and laughing about this stupid list.
“i’m returning this to my locker, i’ll burn it after practice today” you told her and she nodded.
“i need proof of that, video call me when you do it!” she said and sent you off to practice.
arriving at the field, you found your friends and practice started.
“hey, y/n!” as you were packing everything in your bag and exiting the dressing room, sunghoon, who was already there waiting for you called you.
“hey, you” you grinned.
“will you let me do the honor and walk you home today?” he asked ever so nicely.
“sure!” you smiled and began to walk with him, completely forgetting about the paper you had to burn.
“i can’t believe you forgot the paper in your locker! what if someone steals it?” yeji complained over the phone right after you texted her that you forgot about it.
“yeji! no one knows it’s there except you! it’s not ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ story! you can calm down” you sighed.
you were right though, who knows this locker holds up something that can completely ruin not only yours but also your ex’s image?
“i guess i’m gonna let this slide today, but i’m going to burn this paper with you tomorrow!”
“hm”
“how was your walk with sunghoon~?” she teased.
“it was cool, he’s such a cute guy, surprised that he’s still single honestly”
“i think we both know why”
“i’m gonna go sleep!” you changed the subject and before she could ask any more questions you hang up.
the next day you found yourself yet again a victim to yeji’s new gossips while trying to take out a few things from your locker.
“so as i was saying—are you even listening to me?” she looked at you while you looked at the mirror that was hanged in your locker and applied your lipstick on.
“hm? oh yeah”
“you’re a lost case”
“we’re gonna burn this paper today! and then i will finally be able to feel free from this relationship” you smiled, explaining to her that it was the only thing on your mind.
“you’re damn right! this hate list about jake is going to be burnt today!!”
“this hate list about who?”
you jumped hearing someone else’s voice behind you.
“oh! yena, didn’t see you here” you chuckled nervously.
“just here to tell you that coach said there’ll be another practice today, i came here privately because, you know, you’re too busy in other things to care” oh she’s a one of a kind bitch.
you gave her a sarcastic smile, “i already know that, but thank you”
she returned the fake smile and walked away.
“that was so close!”
“you should be more careful, this girl is just looking for something that’ll bring you down” yeji whispered and you nodded, “i guess you’re right, at least she didn’t really hear all of this”
school ended and so did your practice, yeji leaned on the wall next to your locker as you searched for the paper.
“i could’ve sworn i put it right there!!”
“y/n think!! maybe you put it in your bag?”
you handed her your bag for her to search it.
“oh! i found it! it was between those notebooks” you giggled, “but i could’ve sworn i put it under all of my books”
“at least you found it” she sighed and put her hand over your shoulder.
“let’s burn this bitch!”
looking at the little fire you made with yeji made you feel excited and mostly happy.
you let all your thoughts together with this paper to burn.
your relationship was toxic, but this time was the most beautiful time in your life.
you and jake really did love each other.
one time you were sitting together in the library, trying to study the new material your teacher gave you.
“what are you up to?” he asked.
“studying, that’s why we’re in the library” you smiled.
“that’s so boring!” he pout. you giggled and pecked his lips, “you can be on your phone or something until i finish”
“no” he shook his head, “i want to do something with you”
“jake—“
“let’s go! i’m taking you on a date!” he grabbed your hands and dragged you out.
you spent the rest of your day together, sharing a few snacks and joking around.
it was the perfect kdrama couple everyone dreams of.
you ended up sleeping at jake’s house that day, and he made sure you knew how much he loves you.
“i can see our future together,” he smiled and held your hands, “me, a famous basketball player and you, my pretty partner”
you were sitting right across him on his bed and raised a brow, “oh? so i get to do nothing?”
“i’ll make sure to work hard so you could rest and never work for your entire life” he hugged you and pecked your cheek.
“remember that promise, i’ll use that against you in the future” you joked.
“that means…..you too see a future for us?”
“of course”
he put his hand on your cheek and moved you closer to him, he kissed you so deeply you could feel his love to you was sincere.
that small flashback of this romantic moment made you smile, you really do miss him.
but a dark memory came right away, not leaving any place for the sweet memories to stay,
“oh so i didn’t pay attention for you for once and now you’re giving fuck eyes to my best friend?” he yelled.
“you’re such an idiot sometimes! sunghoon was actually kind enough to apologize on your behalf! you were basically embarrassing me in front of everyone!”
“so now sunghoon’s the hero? go to him then!”
“why are you so stup—“
“i don’t want to hear your complains, y/n!”
“oh really?—“
“yes! go away!”
thinking about those moments reminded you why you’re still here looking at the hateful list you made about him.
he was toxic, possessive, and full on narcissistic, it was so hard to love him sometimes.
yeji came up to hug you when she noticed a few tears streamed down your face.
“let it go now, you already proved yourself you don’t need him” she smiled and you nodded.
“let’s go home”
the next day felt a lot better than the others, the sun was shining brightly, birds were singing, a big smile was smeared all over your face and most importantly, you felt free.
“morning, y/n!”
“morning yeji! lunch is on me today”
“i look up to you so much, my queen” she faked a bow and you giggled.
the day is going to be amazing, and so are the other days! you’re so sure of it.
you decided to keep up with jake’s game and even started flirting with other guys, not even minding if your ex was watching or not.
usually you would, but not now, or never again.
“what’s your fucking problem?”
while talking to some guy you don’t even remember the name of, jake grabbed your wrist and stopped the conversation.
“what do you mean—“
“i mean flirting with him, he’s supposed to practice—“
“you don’t return from break for the next ten minutes, i can talk with him in the meantime” you rolled your eyes.
“coach said—“
“don’t make up things now and don’t act like you care, we’re already over”
“y/n—“
“don’t play this game with me now jake, you can return to your fangirls and leave us alone” you scoffed and released his hold on your wrist.
he rolled his eyes in annoyance and walked away.
“did you see the way he looked at you? i bet you my whole money that he still loves you” yeji sounded as annoyed as he was.
“be ready to go bankrupt because there’s no chance”
“this asshole thinks you’re still in a relationship, he’s sooooo pathetic!”
“yeji, let’s stop talking about him” you groaned and she nodded.
you were in a really good mood today but he totally just ruined it.
the next few days went by so fast, you felt happier by each day that comes by, and nothing could ruin your mood.
that was until today’s morning.
as soon as you stepped your foot in the school’s hallway, people started gossiping.
“y/n! about point five, does he really put his milk before cereal? that’s disgusting!” a random student just popped up and asked you that question straightforwardly.
“huh?”
a few more students gathered around you and you couldn’t even understand a bit of what they were saying.
“excuse me! coming through!” yeji yelled and pushed everyone aside.
when she noticed you in the middle of the circle, she grabbed your hand and dragged you away.
“are you crazy? why would you post the list?!” she asked frustratedly.
“what list?”
“don’t play dumb!”
“no i’m really serious, what are you talking about?”
she glanced up at you and showed you her phone.
“no way!” you gasped.
someone posted your list!
“yes way! are you that stupid?”
“yeji that wasn’t me! i would never do something so dumb!” you reasoned yourself.
right, why would you even post this if you knew it was going to ruin your reputation?
she sighed and walked back and forth.
“it wasn’t me either!” she said almost instantly.
“yeji, you’re the only one who knows about this list” you said suspectedly.
“y/n, do you really think i’d post this? after shit-talking about him and threatening to kill him multiple times?” she looked genuinely hurt.
you know her ever since you know yourself, she wouldn’t do such a thing.
“you’re right” you sighed.
“so,” she spoke, “who’s the asshole?”
“i wish i knew” you scoffed, “i’d like to know who wants to ruin my image”
there were a few seconds of silence, “yena!” you and yeji shouted together with wide eyes.
“this bitch!” yeji spat, “she probably heard us talking about it!”
“oh i’m gonna give her some good bea—“
you were cut off by the bell and had to head straight to class.
you waited for everyone to get in and told yeji you’d come right after you get to your locker and take your notes.
the hallway was empty and you sighed in relief.
“YOU!!” you heard someone shouting across the hallway.
guess it wasn’t so empty after all.
you looked at the person and found the last person you wanted to see.
“you ruined my life!” the person just got closer and closer and you closed your eyes tightly.
“is it because of our break up? that’s how you get back at me? you ruined everything!”
you sighed heavily.
“and what’s with those points? eight, he’s such a nerd for physics it actually hurts, he won’t stop talking about it all the time, nine, thinks his dog is the cutest and will argue you if you don’t think like him, and ten, he’ll use your deepest secrets against you, he cannot be trusted???” he read out the list for you in disbelief, although you already know it.
“those are all lies aren’t they? why did you even—“
“well what am i supposed to do now? it’s already posted, and no! these are not lies! they’re the truth, if you only cared about how i felt in our relationship you’d realize how much of a dick you were” you scoffed and closed your locker, prepared to go to class since you were already too late.
you glanced at jake one last time, he looked speechless, confused and hurt.
were you too much? maybe. but he deserves it.
“hey y/n! should i be careful if i want to date you? i don’t want a hateful list posted about me if i ever break up with you” a random student yelled from across the hall as you were busy talking with yeji.
you glared at him and decided not to reply.
“ignore them, this whole thing will probably vanish in a few days” yeji caressed your back and you sighed.
“i hope you’re right—“ before you could continue, a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from yeji.
you looked at the person in charge and when you noticed it was very angry looking jake, you started panicking.
“hey, let me go!” you tried to let go of his hold but it was no use.
“why didn’t you delete it yet?” he asked angrily when you got into an isolated place.
“delete what?”
“are you that stupid?”
“obviously if i’m still talking to you”
“i’m talking about the post”
“it wasn’t me!” you argued.
“sure, and i’m actually queen elizabeth” he rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you.
“think about it, why would i ruin my reputation?”
“i don’t know, to get sunghoon’s attention? that’s all you ever did” he shrugged.
“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? try to figure who it was on your own” you spat and walked away, leaving him deep in thoughts.
“oh! there you ar— are you okay?” sunghoon who casually bumped into you noticed your frowned eyebrows and tightly closed fists.
“go to your friend, i think he needs you more than i do”
he slowly nodded, still worried about you but you just kept walking away.
“hey dude! what’s going on?” sunghoon noticed his friend’s weird behavior.
“sunghoon,” jake spoke, “who do you think posted it?”
sunghoon shrugged, “it could be anyone”
“who wants to destroy my image? do you think there’s someone that does?”
sunghoon looked at his friend in disbelief, does he really think only about himself now?
“maybe it was someone who wants to get back at y/n and not you? not everything revolves around you, you know”
ouch. truth hurts sometimes.
but it seemed to hit a nerve and jake suddenly got up.
“yena!”
“ugh! just when i thought my life got better without him now i have a huge scandal because of him” you whined.
“are you sure it was only because of him? i mean, you did leave it in your locker and…” yeji was about to continue but stopped when she noticed your glare.
“on who’s side are you?”
“every coin has two sides and you know it” she pressed her lips and you sighed.
maybe she’s right, instead of always blaming your ex about your life problems, you should face the truth sometimes.
“well if it isn’t the famous y/n!” you heard a voice you wished you’d never hear again.
“yena! it’s so good to see you here” you faked a smile, “what brings you here?”
“i study here” she answered sarcastically and you tried to resist the urge to punch her in the face.
“anyway, your list got so famous that everyone at school talks about it! i think you should thank whoever posted it”
“maybe i should! it really got me some fame, even your boyfriend came up to me today” you teased and her face turned red.
“you’re lying!”
“your boyfriend would say otherwise”
she scoffed and ran away, “tell him i agree to go on a date with him!” you shout as she walked away.
“you should go easy on her” yeji, who was there to witness everything that happened shook her head.
“it was her who posted it, she deserved it” you huffed and sped up your walk to the classroom.
your last class was finished after what felt like a year and as you got out you finally took a deep breath.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, try not to think about what happened today!” yeji sent you off and you smiled at her.
as soon as you stepped your foot in school you wished you could run away.
before anyone would notice you, you tried to sneak around and look for yeji.
“y/n!” god how much you hate universe.
“what do you want jake?” you answered rudely.
“just wanted to say thank you for that list,” he said sarcastically, “it’s not like you ruined my reputation or something like that, hey by the way! do you think i should make one too? i think that would be fun”
“don’t you dare” you groaned.
“then let’s date again”
“what?”
“are you deaf? i said let’s date again”
“what makes you think i’d actually do that?”
“well, we could lie to everyone that we tried to trick them into thinking that we hated each other to see how others will react” he shrugged, “think about it, it’ll save our image, plus you owe me”
“i owe you nothing”
“it’s because of you that we’re in this shitty situation!”
“you can just let it be and people will forget about it sooner or later, now let me go—“
he caught your wrist before you could leave.
“one week, one week of just pretending and then we’ll part our ways peacefully”
truth is, his idea didn’t ring so bad, but you were scared. you were scared you’d fall in love with him all over again.
“what is it, some fake dating love story? you can go fake date sunghoon and that’ll create a bigger scandal than this one” you shoved your hand and rolled your eyes while walking away.
a part of him just wanted to hold you back again in his arms, for real.
“hey jake!” sunghoon greeted him and jake gave him a weak smile.
“did you just talk with y/n? i thought you were angry with her?”
“i don’t know, sunghoon” he sighed, “i just want my old life back”
“yeah you kinda fucked up your life, hey why did you even break up with her in the first place?”
when sunghoon heard about your break up, he was the first to come up to jake and ask him about the reasons, only then he realized jake didn’t really want to speak about it at all.
but now jake felt ready, he felt like he needed someone to hear his side of the story, every coin has two sides right?
there they were, sitting in the field’s seats, looking at the empty space, it was just the two of them.
“when we first got together i was so happy, you already know how much i liked her that time, you even helped me planning all those dates” jake sighed.
“‘sunghoon how do you take someone on a date without telling them straightforward it’s a date?’ i remember you asking me those questions nonstop!” sunghoon laughed.
“yeah, i was on cloud nine, but,” jake paused, “i was scared to lose her, i was so scared to lose her to the point i became overly possessive and anxious when she was around other boys, i was so used to have a one time thing and i didn’t know how to keep relationships, it all became messed up, this whole relationship happened in the wrong time”
sunghoon pat his friend’s shoulder, feeling sad for him.
“each time i tried to fix it, it got worse and i didn’t know how to stop, so i just decided to break it off, it’s better to let her live her life than to stay selfish and keep her to myself” jake sighed yet again, emphasizing the disappointment he feels with himself.
“i actually wanted to say this for awhile, but deep down i know you’re insecure about yourself, and you tried to hide it by boosting your ego and lying to everyone about your true self” sunghoon chuckled, “you were some kind of an asshole before you started dating y/n, and even became more of an asshole after getting into a relationship, you should’ve just talked it out with y/n”
“well it’s too late now isn’t it? she made that very clear that she hates me by writing down that list” jake groaned.
“maybe you should just make one about her and ruin her chances to have any relationship in highschool as well” sunghoon shrugged but jake looked at him curiously.
“i was joking! don’t do that!”
“well? how are we feeling today?” yeji handed you your favorite snack to cheer your mood up.
“thinking about ways to kill yena, how about i poison her food?”
“how about you just talk it out with her?”
“not a chance! i can’t look at her face without fighting the urge to punch her”
“well it isn’t going to help you, is it?”
“no, but it’ll make me satisfied”
“maybe i should just accept his offer?” you murmured.
“offer? what offer?” yeji asked.
“promise me no matter what happens, you’ll never abandon me” you grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at you straight in your eyes.
“have you gone mad? i—“
“promise me!”
“okay, okay!” she laughed, “you’re acting like you’re planning to get back with jake”
your silence told her everything.
“don’t you dare—“
“i have the perfect plan! you know how yena always wanted jake, right?”
“doesn’t she have a boyfriend—“
“boyfriend my ass, she was all over jake all the time”
“continue please”
“she probably posted my list to make sure i’ll never date him again, so she could have her chance,” you raised a brow, “by dating him i could only piss her off, but maybe that’d actually get her to confess about it”
“and then what?”
“then HER reputation would be ruined forever, boyfriend? gone, cheerleading? gone, friends? gone!”
“y/n,” yeji held your hand, “you’re so smart i feel like a proud mom!” she wiped her fake tears away.
later then you searched for a specific person you knew you’d find in the field.
“so,” the person said, “you actually agree?”
“jake, don’t make it harder than it already is” you rolled your eyes, trying to keep up with your cool girl energy, but deep down you were so excited to be close to him again and to hold him in your embrace.
“have you heard? jake and y/n are back!!” as you were walking towards your classroom you heard mumbling from other students.
“i literally just now agreed to this stupid idea how-“
“you know how fast rumor spread here, it’s actually scary”
your thoughts kept running through your mind all the way to lunch break, which was the only time you could ever relax and—
“attention please!” oh no.
“yes, me and y/n are back! this whole list thing? it was just to check everyone’s reaction about it! it’s so smart isn’t it? my sweet baby thought about this idea, and we did figure some weird actions after this whole thing blew up” jake dragged you right next to him and stared right into your eyes, “you’ll never break us apart”
cheers and claps were heard all over the hall and the only thing you thought about now is how to run away.
“congratulations! i was so scared it was real, was just now about to pay (student’s name) a hundred bucks, who lost the bet now huh loser?” one of the students came up to you with a wide smile.
you awkwardly smiled back as you set her off.
“did you really have to do that?” you glared at him.
“i did, see? now no one’s talking about it again” he shrugged.
“everyone stopped talking about it a day after! you’re just too busy thinking about yourself to notice your surroundings” you rolled your eyes.
“you agreed to do that, so be my guest, you knew there will be consequences”
“you’re the worst!”
“you don’t mean that”
you just rolled your eyes in return and stormed off.
“hey my sweet darling, how’s your day?”
“jake, we’re out of school, drop the acting”
you failed to notice his smile dropping.
“can’t i just be curious about your day?”
“jake, it’s weird, it’s been a while since we last talked or had a normal conversation, don’t act like nothing happened”
“what do you mean?”
“see you always does that! even when we were in a relationship! you fail to understand how badly you always hurt me and proceeded to just move on so fast, always running away from your problems”
he stopped his tracks as you continued walking away, this left a huge impact on him.
the next day you were back to acting, according to you, to jake it seemed very real.
you were sitting on one of the benches, casually talking with sunghoon about whatever.
jake seemed to notice every small detail about you.
the way you smile when he’s complimenting you, the way you crack at any of his jokes, even those who weren’t so funny.
you never laughed at his jokes.
“hey, can i steal my girlfriend?” jake sounded calm but his whole face screamed anger.
sunghoon, his best friend who had already recognized that face, slowly got up and smiled, “she’s all yours”
“hey, what was that?” you scoffed.
“you were being too close to him”
you rolled your eyes, “i can’t believe we’re back at it again”
“again?”
“yes, again! jake, get it right into your mind, we are not together! we’re just putting a small show for everyone’s entertainment and that’s it, it’s all about saving your ass here as well” you sounded really pissed off.
jake was taken a back for a few seconds but got right back to his senses, “oh”
“yes, oh! we’ll act like a couple when we’ll really need it” and with that you walked away.
“so,” you heard a devilish voice haunting you from behind as you were taking books out of your locker, “you and jake?”
“oh hey yena!” you smiled, “fancy seeing you here”
“answer my question” she furiously said.
“why are you curious? dropped your boyfriend because you thought you’d get a chance with him?” you smirked.
“oh! here’s my boyfriend!” you called jake who seemed to be very deep in thought.
he looked straight into your eye but decided to just walk away and ignore you completely.
“what the hell…” you cursed under your breath.
“boyfriend, huh?” yena was the one who’s smirking now, “well have fun!”
“what the hell was your problem back then?” you let yourself yell at him as you were out of school and on your way home.
“oh, i thought that we need to act like a couple when we really need it—“
“don’t play dumb right now!”
“i don’t get you y/n seriously! you’re always saying something but mean the exact opposite, what do you want, really?” he returned the attitude.
“what?”
“if you’re that suffering you should just go to sunghoon!”
“again with the sunghoon scandal—“
“yes, again with him! how come you never laughed at my jokes? how come you never smiled at any compliment i’ve given you? why did you always push me away when i tried to get closer?” the heated conversation turned into a quiet one, his tone made it very clear to you that he was hurting.
“w-what…” you whispered.
“you just don’t get it do you?” he chuckled, “my reason to being this jealous”
you stopped to think, all this time, all those arguments, he didn’t mean any bad at all.
“have you tried thinking about those beautiful moments we had? those were the most precious moments that ever happened in my entire life” you voice came quiet, “it was my first relationship ever, my first love, my first everything, i didn’t know how i should react, or what i should do in order to keep you to myself”
his glossy eyes were looking at you.
“you were so not used to doing ‘first time’ things that you failed to notice every little thing that i tried to do to keep us together, have you ever thought about that?” you preached, “i loved you, maybe i still do, but that won’t change anything, will it? it just doesn’t matter anymore”
he tried moving closer to you but stopped, “i-i’m sorry…”
“just go” you wiped the tears that were already streaming down your face.
both of you were hurting, but you didn’t know how to fix it all, it’s so stupid really, you think you’ve grown up to be a better person, but somehow communication puts on a wall that stops it all.
“have you heard? i think y/n and jake are over now, for real!”
“how the fuck did i became the hot topic again? and how come everyone knows about what happened yesterday?” you asked yeji.
“rumors, they spread so fast here” she shrugged and you rolled your eyes.
you watched jake pass you, you took the time to focus on his face.
his eyes seem so tried, puffy and hurt…. you thought.
“well someone had a rough day yesterday” yeji commented and you nodded slowly, still lost in thoughts.
“hey, can you let teacher know i have a meeting with coach today?”
“hm? but you don’t have any—“ “thank you!” you ran off quickly before she could ask any more questions.
“psst! sunghoon!” you whispered as you watched him getting ready for class.
“oh? y/n!” he smiled widely.
“come with me!” you grabbed his hand and dragged him outside the school building all the way to the back.
“y/n can we do this other time? class starts soon and—“
“shh!!” you put your finger over his lips and kneeled down with him, hiding from any teacher or student.
“i need you to help me” you gave him puppy eyes.
“yes of course, what happened?” he instantly asked.
“i’m gonna guess that you’re already aware of what happened yesterday”
“yeah, whatever that was i’d rather forget hearing about this”
“focus! i need you to help me figure out this!”
“what do you mean by ‘this’?”
“i mean everything! you’re his best friend, i���m sure you know about our whole relationship status, i-i just need to know why he broke up with me in the first place” you sighed.
“y/n, you’re not going to like what you’ll be hearing, are you sure you want that?” he genuinely asked.
you looked down to the ground and sighed, “yes, tell me everything please”
maybe asking him not to drop any detail was a mistake, because now after he told you everything and left you alone to get some time to think, you can’t help it but overthink about any step that you did.
“that only shows how bad you were for each other” sunghoon’s last words sent shivers down your spine, maybe he’s right.
“miscommunication sucks!” you laid back on the wall next to you, was this whole relationship a big mistake?
it did nothing but to hurt the both of you.
“there you are!” yeji sounded out of breath.
“so, jake might’ve gotten himself into a tiny fight and—“
“what? where!”
“it was right outside of our classroom but—“
before she could even finish her sentence you ran all the way back to your classroom and she after you.
“there’s no one here” you frowned, “you did this on purpose!”
“i tried to tell you he’s already in the nursery!” she yelled after trying to catch her breath.
“fill me up with information please” you asked quietly.
“you asshole!” as soon as you stepped into the nursery and saw jake laying down on one of the beds, a few tears came down your face.
“y/n! be careful he’s still recovering!” the nurse warned you from causing any more harm.
jake slowly opened his eyes and you scoffed, “fight? really? because of me?” you looked at him in disbelief.
he stayed silent, as if he knew what he did was wrong.
“you have nothing to say?”
“he called you a whore who likes to play with any boy that comes around, what did you expect me to do?” he sounded defensive.
“oh, i don’t know, maybe try to insult him with words and not physically! you got yourself into trouble now because of me” you complained.
“it was worth it” he smirked.
“jake, i’m being serious right now, you can’t act like we’re a couple when we’re absolutely not” as soon as you said this the nurse got the clue and went out of the room.
“that is exactly the problem!” he shout, “i can’t pass another day without you being by my side, you drive me crazy only by looking at me, and hell, i cannot look at any other man flirting with you without fighting the urge to punch him!”
“jake…” you whispered.
“i still love you, don’t you get it?…..i feel like i just can’t continue my day without holding you in my arms….” he held your hand.
you wiped the tears that continued to stream down your face, “you’re probably still suffering from concussion after the fight, i’ll go speak to the nurse”
you let go of his hold and walked out of the room.
a lot of thoughts were haunting your brain, how you wished things would be as simple as they sound.
he confessed to you and you love him, what’s stopping you from running into his arms?
“you’re just scared of giving whatever this was a second chance” yeji said as she took a bite of her food.
“whatever this was, it was toxic, i don’t want that to happen again” you sighed.
“yeah, it was pretty shitty to watch from the side, but i think he genuinely mean it this time” she took another bite from her food.
“how do you know that?”
“i mean really, ever since that list was posted he was around you 24/7, probably looking for excuses to be with you, that whole ‘oh we were just joking, we’re still dating’ thing was a dumb excuse for him to be next to you more, any nine years old can tell you that”
“you don’t have to be that harsh” you scoffed.
“i’m telling the truth babe, as much as i hated his guts, and still do, i think he was genuine about his feelings this time, and by the way you told me everything that happened, i think he really wants to fix it and try all over again” she shrugged.
“i….i don’t know what to say”
“just go and tell him yes already” she rolled her eyes and you nodded.
it’s time to fix your broken relationship.
you walked—ran back to the nursery only to find it empty.
“um…do you know where’s—“ “i saw him going to the field” the nurse answered before you could ask.
“thank you!” you smiled and walked excitedly to the field.
“i did it” you heard a familiar voice, “i posted that list”
before you could see who’s talking, you quickly hid behind a side wall.
“what?” you’re 100% certain this is jake’s voice, but who is he talking to?
“i thought this would finally break whatever you had going with her, i mean, you always had heart eyes for her even after your break up, it was making me sick”
“still, how could you do this to me?” jake sounded betrayed and…hurt.
“you had to move on, seriously, it was becoming unhealthy, i didn’t think it’d only bring you closer, it was such a mistake”
“please stop…”
“when you broke up i thought i’d finally have chance with her, but she was actually always looking your way, not even batting an eye at me”
“sunghoon just stop! i can’t believe my best friend would do this”
was it sunghoon this whole time?
“so it was you?” your thoughts voiced out.
“y-y/n?” you saw jake and sunghoon standing right in front of the other, sunghoon wore a shocked expression while jake just stood there looking completely hurt.
“what kind of an idiot would call himself a best friend? and to think you did all of that for what? to hurt not only him but me as well” you tched, “you’re nothing but an egoistic asshole”
“please just—“
“just go the fuck away! you did nothing but to hurt people, you’re disgusting me” you tried to shoo him but he didn’t budge.
“not going? okay then” you grabbed jake’s hand and walked away, not before shooting him an angry glare.
after a few minutes of walking you sat him down on one of the benches.
“you okay?” that was the first thing you asked.
“yeah, not like my best friend tried to sabotage me or anything” he chuckled.
“i’m sorry for that” you placed your hand on his shoulder, pressing it lightly, “he does not deserve to be called your best friend though”
he looked up to you and his eyes were filled with tears. you wiped the tears away and smiled at him.
“i don’t know if it’s going to help, but i didn’t feel anything for him, and never will”
he chuckled and sniffled, “i always trusted you, but i couldn’t find myself to trust him, i guess now i know why”
you rolled your eyes, “yeah, yeah you were right, i was wrong”
he gave you his infamous smile and the butterflies you felt never felt this good, “thank you” he said.
“for what?”
“for being there for me, and even if you don’t want to fix things right now, i think we might be—“
you shut him down by kissing his lips, he was shocked at first but quickly caught up, caging you in his arms and holding you tightly.
as you broke the kiss you smiled, “i do want to fix things, i want that more than anything”
“do you mean it? aren’t you afraid?”
“as long as i’m with you i have nothing to fear” you smiled.
“ugh! you’re back again? i can’t keep up with this anymore!” you heard an annoying voice.
“hey yena? fuck off” you flipped her off and she stormed away.
“since when did you become so confident?”
“ever since i realized i want to cherish and hold the most precious thing to me forever”
“i love you” he held your hand and kissed it, “i love you too” you replied with a quick peck on his lips.
“aww lovebirds, get back in class now the day’s not over yet!”
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eureka-its-zico · 1 month
Text
Chaos in Their Bones: Wanted
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Ongoing Series
Synopsis: After the defeat of Arlong, at Arlong Park, the five of you promised to yourselves, and each other, to achieve your dreams on your way to the Grand Line helping Luffy search for the One Piece. It seems simple enough, except for the minor detail that you died. Coming back from the brink of death, Zoro and the others have noticed you haven’t been the same. You aren’t sure if it’s Death himself chasing after you or something far more sinister. But facing your inner demons won’t be the only fight you’ll have to worry about when family comes calling. 
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Genre: established relationship, idiots to lovers, angst, mentions of smut, (will add stuff later) it’s an adventure, y’all!
Words: 6.3+
A/N: Hello my darlings! It is I! Your resident clown! I hope you are all doing well!! Finally, I have finished the prologue to my version of One Piece filler. I am so incredibly excited to share this with you guys while we wait for the next season of OPLA to arrive! I’m even more excited to share in this journey with all of you. This first chapter is pretty heavy and gives a brief backstory to what took place in season one with CITB, just in case anyone comes in reading this one first.. I’ll always do my best to make sure there are proper warnings in place for each chapter and, if I ever happen to miss one, please let me know. Now, let us properly get on with our new adventure.  As always, I hopeyou all enjoy this! Much much love, Jenn
p.s. shout out to @deadneverlander for always being my clown bestie and the bestest editor-in-chief
Warnings: mentions of previous torture, trauma, and gore
Chaos in Their Bones Master List
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It was odd how the body adjusted to change before the mind realized what was happening. How Zoro could barely remember when he’d strictly stopped thinking of just singularly him and began to think about them. The one specific goal he’d carried with him his whole life - an armor that entombed him - suddenly no longer held the same weight as it had before.
Zoro was part of a crew now. It felt unbelievable when he thought about it, but he wasn’t a part of just any crew.
Zoro was a part of Luffy’s crew - his first mate. 
Kuina always told him he needed to lighten up. Get some friends. If only she could see him now. A band of misfits who’d become family. 
(Except for the waiter. Zoro still wasn’t sure about that guy.)
That one word, family, bounced around the inside of his skull, shattering every ounce of the solitary life he still tried to hold on to. After Kuina died he used their promise for a solid reason for his loneliness. It protected him - shielded him from having to go out and be a part of the world. While others thought he led a lonely life, Zoro believed it was simply a life free from distractions. A life centered around one goal,  a promise, and that didn’t allow room for error. 
And then everything changed the minute a boy in a straw hat stumbled on him tied up in a yard. Zoro recalled how instantly he’d found Luffy annoying; a pest. A nuisance in the form of gangly limbs and possibly too much leg, until Luffy asked him one simple question: “Is that all you are? Is that all you want?”
It surprised the hell out of him when he’d considered answering him. It surprised him even more when he did. Luffy didn’t laugh when Zoro told him, either. Instead, he listened and looked at Zoro like it was more than a possibility. Anything felt possible when you were with Luffy. The words spilled out of him with such conviction he was sure they could raise Kuina from the dead. He wasn’t sure why he’d even answered Luff. Once he did there was no denying his words had solidified a belief in Luffy that Zoro’s dream wasn’t just a possibility, but that Zoro would succeed in doing it. 
The only person who’d shared in his dream believed it would become a reality the harder they trained, had been Kuina. Sharing your hopes and dreams with another person was one of the deepest connections you could inadvertently make. Suddenly, just from sharing a few words, your entire being was stripped bare. Open for everyone to see down to the very marrow of your bones who you were and, because of this, Zoro didn’t share lightly. He couldn’t risk someone laughing at him or telling him he never stood a chance. 
The Demon Pirate Hunter would burn the heavens down if it meant he could get what he wanted.
So, Zoro waited for Luffy to laugh in his face. To try and curse his spirit along with his dream. Instead, Luffy believed just as vehemently as Zoro believed in himself. The possibilities were endless. One distraction - addition - to his life was something he could handle. 
Then Zoro stumbled upon you and having just one more distraction didn’t seem all that bad.
 Suddenly, being the world’s greatest swordsman wasn’t all he wanted. 
He wanted you too.
The universe seemingly conjured you into existence - a magical pain in his ass. The more he’d tried to deny his feelings, the more annoyingly louder they grew. If fate was real, it had a terrible sense of humor - reminding Zoro a little too often that even the best-laid plans carried detours.  
Neither of you was willing to admit that the universe seemed to be playing a cruel joke. The universal bingo card the two of you carried, chock-full of goals and aspirations, and not a single mention of…well, not a mention of either of you were on it. 
Zoro didn’t believe in fates. Magical beings who dictated your future and the outcomes of your life and the supposed powers they wielded in who entered and left. He could be incredibly stubborn. You called him hard-headed. He just liked to think of it as knowing what he wanted. The universe proved to beat him at his own stubborn game, however. He’d been a fool to try and reject what everyone saw, but Zoro and you…the two of you felt it. 
Falling in love with you had been as easy as breathing.
He tried to deny it for so long - his tunnel vision widening just to catch glimpses of you - bright and warm and alive to cast sunshine into the hollowest parts of him. The ones he’d left empty ever since Kuina died. He protected himself from having to feel that overwhelming feeling of grief again. No matter what anyone said, it never got better. It didn’t get easier. You just slowly learned to live with the empty space their loss created and, because of this, Zoro never allowed people to get too close. 
His drinking kept him languid and carefree.  
Zoro didn’t believe in magic. 
It wasn’t in his nature to believe in things he couldn’t see - couldn’t feel their weight in the palms of his hands to make or break his world. The very idea of magic alone was the biggest unseen force he could think of. But when you looked at him, cheeks rosy with a blush he gave you, he swore he’d become a believer. The world was brighter, anything was possible, and the stars in your reflected a constellation of every step you’d ever taken that led you to one another.
He didn’t think it was possible for his world to shift - to change - all over again until that night in your room. 
Zoro stood there paralyzed - transfixed. Cool, remain cool were the words that darted through his head but how could he? He’d spent all day endlessly teasing you. Every chance he got to bump against you, shamelessly removing his shirt just to feel the hunger of your gaze slid over his skin, or to dip his hands low, impossibly lower, was a chance he had to take. Just to make your cheeks flush that pretty pink hue that was just for him. 
He wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t miss the heat that shimmered underneath. How could he miss it when he’d felt it too? The pleasure in knowing he was the cause for every heavy breath that rose in your chest. Pupils blown wide and body preening at his touch. No matter the breath that stuttered out of you or the looks you gave, Zoro remained in control. 
Perfect. Control.
Until he’d opened his door to find you covered only in a towel, droplets cascading down your skin and those eyes - god your eyes - looking at him like that. 
Cool. Play it fucking cool. 
He’d repeated it to himself over and over. A mantra that wasn’t much of a mantra because he was failing miserably. Even after he admitted he’d been waiting to hear you make it safely back to your room. He would’ve left it at that - teasing you one more time to have that good ol’ blush of yours see him off to bed. But then his eyes caught the way your hands protectively tightened on the towel. 
The way you self-consciously hide the worst of the damage that Arlong - that fucking fishman - and his men had done. You tried so fucking hard to make everyone believe you were okay. The wounds on your body practically all but healed, while some were slowly beginning to show they’d remain as scars. He worried that you’d see yourself as less because of it. How could he get you to see that your scars were beautiful because those scars meant that you were still here. With him. 
But Zoro knew the scars that plagued you the heaviest were in your mind. 
You thought you were less because of them but, god you were so much more because of them. And suddenly, hiding inside the safety of his room didn’t matter anymore. 
Zoro had to show you - make you understand - how remarkable you were. Arlong and his men could never take away the way his breath still caught - trapped and frantic - in his throat every time he looked at you. You’d been doing it since that first night at Kaya’s: his eyes held prisoner as his gaze helplessly followed your every move.
Even when you were a brat and stole his glass of wine.
He didn’t think it was possible for the feelings that brewed behind the safety of his walls could get worse. To overwhelm and flood his senses until what little common sense he had left evaporated completely. 
He was wrong. 
That night, Zoro learned the only thing prettier than your blush was the sounds you made. Just for him. 
Always for him.
He knew everything changed that night in your room. And how could it not? The desire to touch you, show you with his mouth, his body, all of him, every piece of himself that you’d claimed, just how much you were a part of him. How deeply you’d woven yourself into the fabric of his being, hollowed out his bones, and made a home. 
There was an unmistakable connection Zoro felt towards you. It was something new that he’d never felt. He didn’t know what to call it. Love? How could one word seem to hold so much weight? The power to plant flowers in the garden of his rage or completely shatter it. There was no fucking in between and that was frightening. 
Fucking terrifying
Zoro couldn’t formulate words to describe the invisible teether that coiled around you both. Or the fear it created. A terror like a serpent that constricted tighter and tighter around his heart, more and more with every passing second. If Arlong could take you. If he could…you almost…
No no, don't fucking think it! Don’t speak it. 
The reality was it could happen again. 
The fear of someone taking you - hurting you -  became all too real. 
He’d almost lost you. 
Zoro would never admit to it. Say it out loud or allow it any space during his waking day. But when he was asleep the fear threatened to slip through his control. It formed itself into nightmares that painted out every outcome that could’ve happened in vivid detail. Painted in tragic detail into the whites of his eyes on how close he’d come to saying goodbye. 
Save me… pirate hunter…
He had saved you, hadn’t he? 
That day haunts his waking hours even now. It’s what wrestles him awake even with your head tucked underneath his chin, his arm draped across your back, and the steady beating of your heart pulsing against his chest. He’d arrived busting through Arlong’s gate with Luffy and crew, his breath caught in his throat not knowing what they’d find. 
What greeted him was the last thing Zoro thought he’d find. Your body, crucified, arms painfully splayed to make a perfect T shape. Gore. It was the only way his mind could describe it - screaming at him not to look. You were a decorated gory masterpiece. All the light and sunshine of who you were was dimmed in a blanket of blood. The stench of burned flesh clung to his nose the way the taste of chopper lodged itself in the back of his throat. 
You seemed so lifeless. So fucking lifeless. Zoro felt his knees threaten to give out on him in seconds. You couldn’t be alive. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he listened as the chains chimed at your movement. A fucked up wind chime of dread and hope that carried on the wind and told him all he needed to know. 
You were alive. 
Zoro could still save you. With that knowledge blacking out all reason, Zoro created hell inside the walls of Arlong Park. He would do it over and over, becoming a demon, a king of monsters,  to burn down the world if it meant saving you. 
And yet…it almost hadn’t been enough. 
There were times Zoro wondered if this is how you felt as you watched him give himself up to Mihawke. He could still remember the look of agony that bloomed across your face. The way it stole the spark Zoro loved to see in your eyes, bleeding them dry until all that was left was an emptiness that he gave you.  
Zoro had willingly gone to death. 
And you saved him. 
You cared for him even then - when he didn’t deserve it - after everything he’d done to try and prove to you, and himself, that the universe was wrong. It was just a sick joke to believe that fate itself had woven you both from such different clothes to somehow make each other whole. Zoro gnashed his teeth, swore, and fought his own demons to try and prove he didn’t need you - want you - but he’d been a goner the second he opened the guest room door. 
Plus, it didn’t hurt that you packed one hell of a punch. 
Zoro could still feel your knuckles connecting perfectly on his nose. The impact of it shocked him so hard it’s what caused him to lose his grip on the well. It was a damn good hit. 
He’d woken up to the emptiness of a bed Zoro shared with you. In the privacy of the cabin you both now called home, Zoro would admit dread tied his stomach in knots. That it spurred his legs to swing over the edge of the bed and his hands to furiously move around the room looking for clothes. All thoughts he used to have about pretending he wasn’t looking for you - searching for you - when he always had been, dissipated with his next breath. 
Even still… Zoro had almost died and came back more or less himself. Deep down, however, In the dark recesses of his mind, a nagging voice reminded him endlessly that something was… off. Something was wrong. 
Wrong with you.
Zoro hated that he even entertained the thought. In the privacy of his own head, it still felt like a betrayal. A dishonor of the trust you’d placed with him. He tried to knock the thoughts away because now wasn’t the fucking time. You were missing – again – in the middle of the night. He had to find you but no matter how hard he knocked away the nagging thoughts of growing questions, the voices persisted.  
Nami was the first to notice, which wasn’t surprising. She was always carefully crafting plans and backup plans with backups to the backup plans if those fell through. Zoro came to understand the second they stepped into a room, that Nami was twelve steps ahead of everyone else. Her eyes scanned the room for marks - the weakest links in the chain of command - so that was why it wasn’t surprising, not in the least, that Nami noticed the oddities about your recent behavior first. 
“She’s doing it again.” “Doing what again?” Every time Nami brought it up, Zoro couldn’t keep the irritation from shifting heavily in his tone. The annoyance at throwing around large sacks of grain that the waiter just had to have turned his mood even more sour. More than the fact Usopp somehow magically disappeared from having to help load all of this below deck.  Zoro followed Nami’s gaze until it landed on you. A hand wrapped around the rope of one of the sails with your eyes turned out towards the sea. Zoro imagined a passing ship would think you were a statue the way you barely moved. Shit, he even started to worry if you were even breathing. Unlucky for them, this wasn’t the first time you’d started doing this. Your eyes focused out on the ocean, almost as if you were searching either the water or somewhere farther.  “She’s just looking at the waves.” “No,” Nami replied, a shake in her head reflecting the word. Just the one word alone held a lifetime of worry as her eyes cautiously watched your head tilt. A motion that spoke volumes of words being carried on the wind and you were listening. “It’s like she’s hearing something, or someone, speaking.” “Yeah, it’s the sound of the birds above us. I think they’re called seagulls,” Zoro shot back.  Zoro didn’t know why he needed to protest their concerns so much. Zoro had his own but when it came to you a protectiveness he couldn’t fathom seized every last available brain cell. Their words sent his body immediately to defend you even though Nami’s concerns only voiced the ones he was too afraid to say himself.  His words earned him a glare from Nami as she moved next to him. A hand playfully smacked his shoulder, but her eyes never strayed from you.  “No, you asshole, not the birds. It’s like someone is… talking to her.”
Zoro had thought Nami was crazy. She had to be. You were fine. She was just being a protective mother hen again, which she’d promised you she wouldn’t do anymore. The look on his face must have said the same thing causing her eyes to narrow in on him all before her chin jutted out towards your direction. He wanted to call Nami crazy, but when Zoro glanced back at where you stood, your head was cocked further to the side. Your lips parted, eyes focused, like you were about to reply. 
A few days after that incident on the deck you began talking in your sleep. It started off as grumbles and grunts until it graduated to lazy words and, finally, short sentences that burst from between your lips in reply. Sometimes though, the voice that came out of you… it didn’t sound like your own. The words hissing and breaking from your lips in jagged whispers that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. 
The worst part was, if Zoro asked you, you’d never remember or know you’d done it. Zoro had promised to save you, and he had. So, why did he feel like he’d been too late?  
And that thought alone is what startled him awake. 
Zoro finally located a pair of pants that he’d thrown haphazardly in his earlier haste to get into bed. Your scent was still pressed into the sheets - pressed into his skin. It was enough to inform him you’d been there beside him. He hadn’t been dreaming - not that he would since you’d both agreed that him sleeping over in your room just made sense. 
He didn’t bother putting on his boots. The only thing he made sure to grab was the Wado Ichimonji that rested on his side of the bed. You’d strictly forbidden him from sleeping with it in the actual bed after you woke up with the hilt pressed against your ribs. 
The sheets had long since gone cold and that told him wherever you’d gone, it’d been a while since you’d left. Zoro wasn’t known for having tact or being quiet. If he was being honest, Nami often called him a brute and she wasn’t incredibly far off. He didn’t have any plans to quietly walk out of the bedroom or make his footsteps dainty soft like a whisper. He didn’t have time for pleasantries. 
He didn’t bother wasting time looking for you in the kitchen. There had only been a handful of times he’d caught you bravely traipsing around the waiter's kitchen. Banging his beloved pots and pans around like you had a death wish. Zoro wasn’t too keen on hearing him bitch later about the sanctity of a man’s kitchen and his utensils after Sanji had caught you. Zoro was, however, willing to admit the food you’d prepared that night tasted a thousand times sweeter knowing Sanji would be having a heart attack about it later. 
No. By now, Zoro knew there was one place and one place only that he would find you. 
With the swaying of the ship under his feet, Zoro made his way towards the stern. The Wado clutched tightly in his fist in a weak attempt to keep him grounded. He ran a hand through the mossy haphazard strands of his hair in hopes of soothing its messy state but knew he was only making it worse. His fingers tugging too violently like he could rip his thoughts out by the roots. 
There was nothing he should be worried about - you were fine. He was going to walk up those stairs and find you just enjoying the night breeze. It was what he needed to see because he didn’t know what to say if he didn’t find you standing there. How he could fix it if you weren’t admiring a view; waiting to share whatever was on your mind. 
One by one he released his hair from his fingers. The ache of his scalp was enough to help focus him back into the present. To ground him just enough for when his eyes finally landed on your frame. 
You weren’t standing at the edge of the stern, safely behind its railing like he imagined, or admiring the view of the midnight water. Instead, your legs were precariously over the side of the Merry. So painfully close to the edge that one wrong move, a simple shift in the wind or the way you were sitting, and you’d simply go over. 
An image of you going over, a sudden flash of your body disappearing into the darkness below, sent his steps widening, eager to reach you. To close the remaining distance between you, as if it would ever be enough to keep you there.
His bare feet thundered loudly across the remaining feet that were left between the two of you. The heavy thumping scraped away whatever chance he had at catching you off guard. The sound alone should’ve been enough to draw your attention but when he arrived at the edge of the banister, one hand holding on to the ashen wood while the other curled around your shirt - his shirt. After all this, you still hadn’t acknowledged him. 
Your eyes were locked on a horizon of midnight - obsidian, endless, with promises of nightmares etched out of brimstone lying underneath. Your head tilted, just like before, just like it always was, listening to something none of them could hear. 
Zoro wasn’t much of a praying man, but he found himself silently making one as he sucked in a breath. 
“It's a little late for a midnight stroll, don’t you think, Snowdrop?”
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You weren’t surprised Zoro found you. 
You knew he would. Since the minute you woke up in bed curled up beside him, an arm tucked behind his head while the other draped itself loosely over your shoulders, pressing you closer, that once you left he’d be up. Maybe not right away, but it will happen. Gradually or all at once. 
Even in his sleep, Zoro searched for you. His fingers stroked the curve of an arm; swirling into the crease of an elbow. His nose buried itself in your hair or the sensitive spot just under your ear. Zoro searched for you as vigorously in his sleep as he did while he was awake. 
You expected him to come find you. It wasn’t a surprise when the sound of padding feet on cured wood imploded the silence you’d come in search of finding. His presence was unforgiving heat across your skin. Unspoken questions hanging between you. A part of you prayed he would ask them. Another part of you hoped he didn’t. 
Maybe that was the voice that made you wish he hadn’t found you. That Zoro had stayed blissfully asleep enjoying the blanket of restful sleep instead of the restlessness of whatever you now had to offer. The thought gnawed on your nerves, brewing an annoyance that soured the comfort you’d found looking into the vast darkness of the waves. 
During the day, everything was bright and inviting. The sea most of all. Its multitude of hands that rolled against ships and overlapped wave after wave to create a white froth was a silent beacon to come explore. It promised relief from the scorching heat of the sun and an endless supply of food to fill a starving sailor. Underneath all of that brightness, however, you could feel the darkness that took shape in the form of monsters underneath. Sea beasts that swallowed entire ships with crews. Sirens seducing men and women from their beds with a song - pulling them screaming, lungs heavy with water, down into the deep. 
It was this darkness that began to call to you. A disease that infiltrated your body slowly, without warning so as not to cause alarm, until it completely plagued every sleepless hour. You weren’t aware it’d been happening until the third night you’d woken to the spray of the ocean on your face. You found yourself standing on the rail of the ship. The threat of a harsh wave possibly sending you over was imminent. Yet there you stood, your arms splayed out at your sides, waiting for an embrace that hadn’t come. Yet, when you opened your eyes it wasn’t terror that turned to ice in your veins. You knew the ocean wouldn’t claim you.
It couldn’t. 
You didn’t belong to this graveyard. You belonged to something else. There was a power that resonated below the murky depths. A force that felt ancient and terrifying. It felt like it created the dark; and devoured it until it became whole again and again. It writhed and moaned like the damned, as it searched for more life, more souls, to devour and own. This blackness demanded worship like an old god and that same darkness was what called to you now.  
You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be: a sacrifice or a sacrificer. But one thing was clear. Whatever it was, it was inside of you and it was calling you home. 
Naan strived to make sure she was careful - that you were careful. She shared warnings in the forms of stories and fairytales as a child to soften the terrifying meaning that lay underneath. All this time she painstakingly put in to make you understand and, in the flash of a second, it took less time for you to choose Nazifa’s life over your own. 
It’s what Naan had taught you to do: protect others. How could she ever think, or believe, that you made the wrong choice? How could you regret saving someone’s life? Saving people was who you were, who Naan raised you to be, down to the very marrow of your bones. 
Naan’s trade was never forced on you. She never held you back from thoughts of going to school, leaving the island, or if you wanted to learn a different trade. It was always very clear it was your choice to spend hours in the garden and in the forest scrounging for ingredients. Your choice in agonizing over the creation of your book of remedies. It felt natural. Your whole purpose is wrapped up in easing the pain of the dying and the chill of the sick. 
But this darkness…it touched what was yours. It cascaded oil thick, blackening the seas of your memories. The shared dances in Naan’s kitchen as she taught you how to move across the floor, ‘like a young lady’. The spring in her gardens, surrounded by bergamot and cardamom. 
Every last memory of joy and hope and happiness was suffocated until the only thing left were nightmares. This darkness – this sickness – writhed under your skin. It changed who you believed you were, who Naan loved and cared for you to be, and stripped it all away. 
Brick by brick every belief you held was knocked loose and replaced by something grotesque; vile. It whispered ways to silently kill those you loved aboard the Merry. Townsfolk and villagers whenever you stopped for supplies. It slithered black chords of strength in your muscles, seizing your hands to tear apart and break dressers. The doorknob to Luffy’s room completely caved in as you struggled and fought to not take that final step inside. 
The voices were growing louder with each denial you gave them. Each life you refused to take - each villager you saved instead of maimed - turned them rabid. The whispers grow into shrieks:
Belladonna to strip a man of pride and the air from his lungs - closing up his throat with froth and screams. Mosswood burns the mouth and twists the gut making them turn liquid.
‘We can break them. Grind their bones into dust. Lay it like powder on our skin. Let us make them putrid! Skin soft and pliable like pudding - flesh that caves at the touch. One touch from us, from you, OUR TOUCH,  and we can rot them from the inside out. Listen as their tongue turns liquid and they gurgle liquid sweet! Let us rot them! LET. US. ROT. THEM!’
It whispered and screamed until you thought you would go mad. It took every ounce of willpower you struggled to hold on to your sanity. Not to claw at your ears. As if it would ever be enough to make the whispers just stop. 
Something inside you came back wrong. You were wrong. You thought about the possibility that you might be imagining it. This call of chaos - of sinister dread - swirled inside of you like a whirlpool threatening to suck everything down around you. The more you tried to ignore it, the louder it grew. The voices were no longer murmuring - their words were convoluted - gargled as if held underwater. 
Now they were screaming, demanding to be heard, and they were always the loudest when you were sleeping.
You were so lost, so completely lost, consumed with your thoughts, these fucking voices, that you weren’t sure when your body turned to face him. Maybe Zoro had asked you a question or been asking questions. The usual mask of careless indifference he wore was there, but it was easy to spot the worry that etched itself into the fine lines around his eyes. 
His brow creased, drawn tight, which reflected the dark panic that was pooling to the surface in his eyes. If you didn’t answer him soon he was going to shake an answer out of you. Just to hear something. 
What could you say? 
“Do you hear them too? They’re whispering for me to do things and the more I ignore them, the more their fingers seem to dig holes in my mind.”
No. 
You couldn’t ask him that. It sounded crazy. You would sound crazy, and maybe you were. This whole thing felt like a waking nightmare. You thought you could keep it at bay as you attempted to work through it. There had to be a scientific explanation for something like this or at least a psychological one.
Death came to claim you. You’d felt the clutch of cold hands eager to drag you away, drag you down into the earth kicking and screaming. It felt greedy. Excited. 
But you came back. 
Maybe this madness was a form of penance. Maybe this truly was what it was: madness. 
You couldn’t look at him anymore as you tried to swallow the bitter truth down. Underneath, however, you knew you lived in a fantastical world where boys were made of rubber, Devil Fruits existed, and so did magic. 
But what did that make you? You with your voices of chaos. 
Death bringer, They whispered, clamoring against your skull. 
What if the part of you…the dark part Naan always feared would consume you, festered like a cordycep eating its way through your soul until there was nothing left? What if it ate and ate until you were just…gone? The only thing left was an imposter who’d taken your place.
The thought was enough to make your mouth desert dry. Your heart clamoring against the ribs in your chest demanding for you to take it back! You weren’t being eaten starting from the soul and outwards. You were in control. Perfect control. 
“I’m okay.” The words croaked around an unused throat forcing you to clear it and try again. “I’m okay.”
“Who are you trying to make believe that? You? Or me?”
When Zoro looked at you, like he did now, all the world grew quiet. The sound of the ocean, her waves, and the lapping at the hull of the ship all died away. It was harder to catch a breath, the air denser somehow, as everything came grinding to a halt. 
The only thing that mattered in this moment, in every moment, now and always, was the way he looked at you. But the moment didn’t last - it couldn’t - when the current underneath your feet began to pound against the hull of the ship. A seismic rhythm that vibrated through your body in earth-shattering ferocity. 
You looked out across the water around you and found her unchanged. Her waves thrashed at their own speed to collide against the Merry before they rested back down into the murky midnight of the water. 
“Zoro, do you feel that?”
The need for confirmation that it wasn't just you who felt this primal call was palpable. You grasped at whatever reasoning made sense but there was none. A sharp sting on your fingertips brought a hiss of pain from your lips. Your eyes darted down to find that same inky blackness that had burned the flesh of the face of the fishman like acid was crawling up your arms. You tried to swat it away as a fresh flood of panic gripped you. 
“Zoro!”
Your eyes flew up to look for him beside you. You wanted to reach for him - you needed him to hold onto you - but if you touched him would you hurt him? Would you kill him? 
Fear and panic constricted your throat turning your next sentence into a delirious garble of words. All attempts at civility and calmness ended when your vision centered on his body next to yours. Zoro was covered in the thick black ink - your darkness. You heard the sizzling of muscle and tissue melting away. The wet sound of flesh hitting the deck. You watched as a piece of his cheek, the top of his eyelid, slid down his face as his hand reached out for you. 
“It’s going to be okay, Snowdrop.”
The horror of what you were seeing grabbed a hold of your throat and worked the earlier sounds free. It knocked them back down to be digested to allow them to come back up at something brand new. 
A scream housed from despair and grief tore through your body and released itself there on that deck. A panicked heart filled with regret left you shattering into a million pieces and it wasn’t until you were sitting up in bed, thrashing around in the sheets of your shared bed, that you realized it was all just a dream. 
Your eyes bolted open but the frantic terror that left your heart thundering in your chest was still there. It made you search the room like crazy, grasping for things that were real. 
Zoro was standing by your desk. His hands fastened the last button of his shirt while a cool set of eyes watched over you. It was then you felt how your body was coated in sweat; your hair clinging to your neck and cheeks. The shirt you’d worn to bed sticking in thick hot clumps against your skin. 
“What happened,” you rasped. 
Zoro finished with his shirt but didn’t make a move to answer. The Wado was secured at his hip and you watched him drop a now free hand onto the hilt. A comfort you could only assume he needed as he showed no immediate sign of replying. 
After a long pause, Zoro let out a sigh as he moved towards the bedroom door. 
“I found you sleepwalking on deck. Again,” he replied. His voice was all smoke and velvet. It should’ve brought you comfort hearing him, but it wasn’t hard to notice the cracks that formed around his words. “This is the eleventh time you’ve woken up screaming, Doc.”
“Zoro–“
“After we get supplies at our next stop I’m asking Luffy if we can turn around.”
He spoke to the door. The decision he was making seemingly cost him his own grief as your own. You threw the sheets back. Your legs scrambled to make it over the side of the bed before he could completely exit the room. 
“Turn around for what?”
You wanted to sound tough, demanding even. Instead, you just sounded small. Scared. Your mouth dried up around every word, every sentence, you tried to formulate. The sick idea that he was trying to say goodbye, to let you go, making it damn near impossible to even breathe around a thought. 
“To find someone willing to give me some answers.”
Zoro didn’t wait for you to reply with the usual weak promise of telling him. It was only when you were ready to share and that could be never. He was tired of waiting and didn’t bother to wait to hear an even weaker response before Zoro walked out the door and quietly shut it behind him. 
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As always, thank you all so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated.
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Taglist: @honeyoru @oneandonlyizabelle @shanshan4143 @naomihatake @tombraiderjones2505 @illusory-segurity @hippieele @nadlx33333 @fancifulrealist @litlebruh @jonnelpunk
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witchy-scribblings · 4 months
Text
hibino kafka? more like hubbyno kafka (mdni)
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❀ kafka who loves kissing you more than anything, and will have his lips on you at any possible time. this clown here loves to press the wettest smooch on your cheek just as much as he loves kissing you softly while you rock to the sound of the news in the background.
❀ kafka who's always texting you. his name will constantly be popping up on your phone, be it to wish you a good day at work, to complain about some inconvenience at his job, or to remind you that he loves you for the seventh time that morning.
❀ kafka who had always been okay with his bachelor apartment looking like a wreck, but since he started dating you no dishes pile up in the sink, the trash is taken out, and the cleaning is kept up with.
❀ kafka who immediately started getting extra toothbrushes, towels and other supplies the moment your relationship started looking serious, in hopes that it would incite you to come over more often.
❀ kafka who thanks his lucky stars every time he gets to wake up next to you because holy shit how did a loser like him pull a beauty like you? (it's fine we love losers 'round here)
❀ kafka who can never get enough of slow mornings with you. he often has you staying over at his place, and his bathroom is too small to let you brush your teeth side by side, so he gets the next best thing: you straddling his hips while you sit on the counter, peacefully getting ready for the day.
❀ kafka who gets a little insecure sometimes, especially before becoming an officer. he doesn't need constant reassurance, but there are days when he can't help staring at the mirror a little longer, a little harsher.
❀ kafka who falls harder still when you assure him that his dad body is extremely sexy, and that you love that he's so big and warm he's literally perfect to cuddle with.
❀ kafka who feels so much better when he sees how happy wearing his huge baggy clothes makes you. he has had to give up too many hoodies to count at this point, not that he's complaining.
❀ on that note, kafka who loves it when you're wearing one of his oversized shirts and nothing else - well, except perhaps a pair or wooly thigh-high socks during the colder months. After all, the central heating in his apartment is pretty bad, so you have to work with what you have.
❀ kafka who presses down on your covered hamstrings to keep you folded nearly in half while his fat cock plunges in and out of your soaking wet pussy; he's obsessed with the unrestricted sight of the filthy mess he's making out of your swollen cunt.
❀ kafka who sometimes absently wonders if you would be okay with him shapeshifting to fuck you better. he knows that kaiju no. 8 looks scary as shit and that he still has a hard time controlling the extra strength, but some twisted part of him wants to see how much further he could push you (little does he know his fans are monsterfuckers)
❀ kafka who ultimately is a pretty vanilla lover who just lives for those moments late at night when he has you sitting back against his soft chest with your legs spread embarrassingly wide while his thick fingers play you like a goddamn fiddle.
❀ kafka who, yes, is 100% a giver in every aspect of your relationship. but boy does he turn into a whore whenever you pay some well-deserved attention to him. he'll take anything you're willing to offer, but worship his body and his cock with your hands and tongue and he's done for.
❀ kafka who is not shy per se, but he gets really horny really fast if you start dirty talking to him. it might take a little bit of confidence for him to reciprocate, but once he warms up he's pulling out all the "yes, baby, want your mouth on me so bad", or the "i'm not gonna stop until you make a fucking mess on my sheets, got it?"
❀ kafka who used to dread laundry day, but will now happily change his sheets everyday if it means he got to fuck you good the night before.
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brother i’m so down bad for this himbo he’s making me have unholy thoughts on finals week
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vixstarria · 11 months
Text
Something real
I thought I’d play around with an Astarion POV and this is what happened.  
Connected with my other headcanon fics, would take place after this one, but before the end of this one. You don’t have to read them for this to make sense though. (But you totally should!) 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV
Comfort, fluff, budding love, banter, humour, Act 1 spoilers, non-explicit, light angst, probably too much swearing 
Approximately 2,000 words. 
AO3
You were lying alone by the fire, waiting for her to join you, trying once again to untangle the mess this woman made in your head. 
What exactly were you, to each other? 
Were you just temporary travelling companions having meaningless sex for stress relief?  
Or were you lovers in the more literal sense of that word? 
And is that what you wanted..? To be someone’s, whom you could call your own? To have something real..?  
It should have been simple, except the lines kept shifting and blurring. And needless to say, this wasn’t at all what you had initially intended.  
All you knew was, this deliciously ambiguous time at the end of your evenings, when you just talked – this was your favourite time of day.  
You were restless with anticipation, now that everyone else had finally gone to sleep or was shuffling around in their tents. 
Except she was nowhere to be seen.  
You could always slip into her tent, she might even have been waiting for you there now – but then you'd most likely wind up putting on the ‘seductive lusty lover’ mask, and as fun as that was, it’s not what you wanted right now.  
You were getting impatient. 
You wondered just how undignified and out of character it would be to simply go to her tent and lure her out on some pretense, like the stars being particularly bright, or some similar horseshit. You glanced at the sky. The stars weren’t even visible.  
Fuck. ...Well, she’d just laugh at that anyway.  
But lo and behold, there she was at last, plundered bottle of wine in hand. You bit your tongue to avoid addressing her with any of your habitual epithets, for which she’d rebuked you on numerous occasions, but she went ahead and did it for you herself anyway:  
“Here I am! The wind beneath your wings, the rose among your thorns! The fire in your furnace, the... uh... help me out here, will you?” 
“The biting canines in my buttock.” 
“There we go! A touch predictable, but no less eloquent for it.” 
She sat down, right next to your head, stretching her legs out towards the fire, and gave you a searching and expectant look, not saying anything. 
You raised a quizzical eyebrow back at her. 
“Well come on, scooch up,” she said with a playful smile on her lips. 
You lifted slightly on your elbows and laid your head in her lap.  
This is new. 
“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, waving a wrist, and then the wine in the other hand suggestively at you.  
“Not tonight, dear,” you chuckled. “I had quite a successful boar hunt while the rest of you were playing hero in the foothills.” 
“Suit yourself.” She took a drink straight from the bottle and stared off into the fire, her other hand absentmindedly running through your hair. You resisted the urge to lean further into her touch.  
“What’s on your mind?” you asked after the silence went on a touch too long. 
“I would like you to explain something to me.” she said quietly.  
You instinctively tensed, your mind racing, wondering what you could have possibly done or let slip. 
“...Why in the fuck do you lot listen to and take directions from me? Do none of you realize I’m just a shit-talking clown and have no idea what I’m doing?” the tone of her voice was flat.  
...Ah. That. 
“This ‘clown’ led us unscathed through a subversive operation in a goblin camp. Mostly via shit-talking. You even convinced one of them to lick your boot!” you shook your head incredulously. “Give yourself credit where it’s due. Do you think anyone else here could have pulled that off?” 
I probably could have. Wouldn’t. But could have.  
She took a swig from the bottle, considering your question. “Well you definitely could have done the same. You’d just choose not to. ...why are you laughing?” 
“Never mind that. Would you like me to take over for you, darling?” 
“Good heavens, no!” she grimaced in mock horror. “Just stay at my side, as my moral compass.” 
“Your moral compass?” 
“When in doubt, I ask myself ‘What would Astarion do?’, and do the opposite. Usually that’s good enough to keep everyone happy and keep bloodshed to a minimum.” 
You’re not wrong.  
“But gods it’s been exhausting...” she was sombre again. “They all want something, and they all think their problem is the most urgent. ‘We must go to the creche – no, we must go to Moonrise – no, but my heart will explode – no, but I and everything around me will explode’” she was getting riled up, gesticulating with the bottle in her hand. You were worried it would fly out of her grip. She paused to collect herself.  
“At least your demands are too insane to entertain in the first place,” she continued with a weary grin. “‘Embrace the tadpole, take over a cult, fight squirrels, commit genocide’” - she did her best to mimic your manner of speaking, then rolled her eyes and took another swig from the bottle.  
“Never know where a little thinking outside the box might lead you, dear.” I just want my freedom, whatever it takes. ...And that squirrel was looking at you funny. “And you? What do you want?” 
“A hot bath, new lute strings, and a cat to cuddle,” she answered without hesitation.  
You couldn’t think of anything better than to emit a very convincing meow.  
It must have taken her by surprise - she glanced down at you, eyes wide, before bursting out laughing and scratching you behind the ear.  
You hated to admit it, but you were very pleased with yourself, making her laugh like that.  
“My pointy-eared feline predator,” she murmured, looking into your eyes and smiling, as she slowly and delicately ran her finger along the edge of your ear, right to the tip, which felt... divine, actually.  
This... this was too intimate for someone you just had meaningless sex with, right? 
You heard some rustling and footsteps nearby, too casual to be an intruder, probably just someone walking off to relieve themselves.  
She jerked her hand away from you, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and actually made a motion as if to get up, before you stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist, still lying with your head in her lap. 
“Hey... Hold on... Now you explain something to me. Earlier today, you burst into camp covered in hyena entrails, yelled ‘My star!’, threw yourself on me, legs and arms and all, like some deranged monkey, and made me spin you around, kissing you. ...But this is what embarrasses you?”  
“That was putting on a silly act,” she said sheepishly. “And this is...” she faltered, looking for the right words. 
Real..? 
“Not intended for anyone else’s eyes.” 
Real. 
"Well everyone can direct their eyes elsewhere, then,” you responded, unable to contain a smile.  
It’s real.  
...Ahah!  
“Oh, and you’re absolutely adorable, by the way,” you added. 
She flicked you lightly on the nose and looked away. Was she blushing? 
“Anyway. It’s Gale that worries me the most.” 
Fucking Gale. 
“He said the last artifact he consumed hardly did anything. He doesn’t know how much longer he can contain it. He’s inconsolable.” she continued.  
“Perhaps we should all stop worrying and embrace the orb explosion. At least that will mean we won’t have to deal with anything else, ever.” you suggested. This was helpful, right?  
“I wish I could do something to help, or at least get his mind off it for a while.” 
Of course you do, you bleeding heart. 
“And how might you ‘get his mind off it’, exactly?” 
“I think we should seduce him,” she looked you straight in the eyes and said in a deadpan manner.  
Oh, sliding off a serious topic straight back into fuckery with a straight face, are we? I know that game very well.  
“Darling, even without the orb, he would literally explode if you held eye contact with him a second too long. He’s been pining for you since you pulled him out of that rock.” You waved a dismissive hand in Gale’s general direction. “The kindest thing you can do for him is give all your undivided attention to me, so he never has a glimmer of hope.” 
Bloody Gale with his manicured beard, puppydog eyes and cooking skills... 
“Well, while we’re on the topic, I still think we should seduce someone, to spice camp life up a bit. How about Lae’zel?” she continued.
“Lae’zel would skewer both of us if we approached her.” 
...and his warm hands... 
“Shadowheart?” 
“...You know, I’m pretty sure Lae’zel would skewer us for that, too. Perhaps all three of us, on the same blade.” 
...and his ability to find kind and empathetic words in any situation. ...Shame about the orb though. 
“What about...” she grinned, “daddy Halsin?” 
You exchanged a meaningful look. 
Ha! Well there’s a curious thought. I wonder if he could contain himself, or if he would turn into a bear. How... dangerous. 
“Let’s revisit that thought later.” you said pensively.  
“Karlach is impossible, of course...” she continued. “That leaves Wyll.” 
“Oh please,” you chortled. “Even if he wasn’t depressed over the whole... demonic horns and abducted parent conundrum. He strikes me as the ‘wait until marriage’ type. And he’d want to do the seducing himself.” 
“I’m not so sure about the marriage part. He would keep it proper and gentlemanly though.” she thoughtfully tapped her lower lip with a finger. “Multiple extravagant dates to impress his sweetheart before making any moves, the whole shabang. You wouldn’t want him to try to sweep you off your feet?” 
“Just me? No no, we are in this together.” you remarked. “And he could certainly afford to woo us both at once, being the son of a duke.” 
“Weeks of wining and dining us, waiting for the fires of ‘true love’ to fully ignite...” she said contemplatively, gazing into the fire. 
“Smothering us with red roses, romantic moonlit carriage rides and ballroom dancing...” you copied her tone. 
“Until finally railing you on a grand piano one day, while I whipped him with a switch,” she said with a devilish grin. 
“You absolute uncouth filth!” it was your turn to be taken off-guard as you shook with laughter.  
You incredible, ridiculous, mad thing... I would spend another year locked alone and hungry in a tomb, if it meant keeping you alive and safe. 
Something in your chest twisted. 
Did I really just think that? 
Yes, yes I did.  
You needed to stop and consider what just came into your head. And give yourself a good slap in the face. But for now, more than anything, you desperately needed to switch your brain off.  
You sat up and kissed her, pulling her into an embrace. 
“You crazy idiot, what am I going to do with you?” you whispered, briefly touching your forehead to hers. 
“Something nasty, I hope,” she answered with a cheeky smile. But there was more warmth than lust in her eyes. 
“My tent or yours?” you asked softly, trailing a finger down a bare arm. 
“Do you have vials of boar blood everywhere?” 
“Yes. Do you have everything you’ve collected, ever, everywhere?” 
“...Yes.” 
Hoarder. I would give you a whole palace to decorate, just to see what you would do with it.  
Sigh... “I guess I could accommodate you for a short while.” 
Please stay all night.  
On a sudden whim, you swept her up in your arms as you got up, carrying her to your tent.  
What in the hells was I thinking?  
“Oh!” she gasped, surprised. “My... I don’t suppose you’ve got a grand piano in there?” 
“We’ll have to make do with my trunk, I’m afraid.” 
“And they say romance is dead.” 
None of this was going according to plan.  
Fuck the plan.  
You felt like a cretin and a fraud as you carried her off. But you’d make it right. She deserved something better. Something real.  
And so did you, godsdamnit.  
I’ll tell her... Just not today. 
~~~~~
Next in series - Are you mine?
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
AO3
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agendabymooner · 10 months
Text
ice ice baby ! oliver b. x ofc (driver!raikkonen!reader)
summary: kimi and vera raikkonen’s eldest daughter, romania ‘(a)roma’ coppola-raikkonen, debuted in formula one as an aston martin rookie for the mexico grand prix free practice alongside her designated ‘best friend’ ollie bearman, who drove for haas.
AND everyone seemed to be interested in their peculiar friendship… which was funny because they don’t seem to be friends in that way seeing as they referred to themselves by their ship name ‘the ice bears.’
content warning: use of explicit language, fluff, mentions of overprotective!dad!kimi raikkonen, simp!ollie, pet names, flirting on main, established relationship-esque (friends to lovers), brief mentions of coppola!ofc (vera) x kimi raikkonen, f2 drivers clowning each other, we bare bears reference
note: making this because i’m trying to immerse myself in other categories of motorsport that isn’t just f1 🫶 here’s some ollie bearman content
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!
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tagged astonmartinf1, artgp_official, olliebearman
liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial
theopourchaire21 what happened to “through thick and thin theo” 🤧 what happened to “i’ll tag you in our photos later théo”
jolauriraikkonen my sister is a liar
kimimatiasraikkonen watch your words, johann
jolauriraikkonen oops my bad
frederikvestiofficial why am i not here 💀 i thought you’re gonna post our dump pics from the paddock but screw me and théo ig 😕
romaraikkonen 🥲 why am i being attacked
jackdoohan wait y’all got photos? 😀
user1 LMFAO NOT JACK BEING LEFT OUT BY THE QUADRUPLETS 😭✋ poor bby
artgp_official green looks good on you 🤩💚 liked by romaraikkonen
astonmartinf1 ice ice baby! 🥶🧊 liked by romaraikkonen
veracopparaikko happy to see you and the boys, aroma 😍 liked by romaraikkonen
theopourchaire21 mrs. raikkonen 🫶
jackdoohan 💪💗
frederikvestiofficial happy to see you too vera! ✨🙏
olliebearman theopourchaire21 jackdoohan frederikvestiofficial 🙂🙂 liked by romaraikkonen
user2 he’s staking his claim fr 😩
kimimatiasraikkonen 🤔🫥
user3 RIP OLLIE 😭
arthur_leclerc favouritism now that i see it 🙂
olliebearman as you should
user4 girlypop is one step away from barking at everyone and keeping roma from the boys 😭😭😭
olliebearman user4 🐕
user4 on it boss 🫡
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tagged olliebearman
liked by felipedrugovich, victormartinsfr, arthur_leclerc
user1 ICE BEARS CONTENT 🥶😍
ferraridriveracademy the icegirl and our favourite simp 💗🫡
arthur_leclerc the most nauseating duo in the academy 🤩
theopourchaire21 real 💪
romaraikkonen cry about it 😩🙏
veracopparaikko soooo cute 🥰 liked by romaraikkonen
kimimatiasraikkonenn no he’s not 😑 liked by romaraikkonen
romaraikkonen DAD PLZ— 💀
user2 at least we know which raikkonen favours ollie and which one would rather leave him out in the cold
user3 live laugh love overprotective kimi
olliebearman grind on deez n— liked and pinned by romaraikkonen
romaraikkonen pinning this so everyone in the grid can shame you 😋
arthur_leclerc ollie… 😰
frederikvestiofficial jail behaviour
victormartinsfr put him in the doghouse
kimimatiasraikkonen 😐
theopourchaire21 TELL HIM KIMI!!!
olliebearman that’s my biggest regret ever.
romaraikkonen as it should
user4 y’all worried about putting ollie in the doghouse when they’re out here actually posting couple shit??? uhm????
user5 was this allowed???
romaraikkonen yeah
arthur_leclerc kimi caught her and ollie kissing once that’s why they’re open about it now haha 😂
romaraikkonen ARTHUR!!
olliebearman the lad isn’t wrong 😑
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan
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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months
Text
Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)
Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden
Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.
wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3
There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday. 
There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is. 
On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that. 
Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.
Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live. 
He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life. 
Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter. 
“What is with you today, dingus?”
He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.
“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”
“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”
Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”
She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”
Again, Steve stops. “What?”
“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?” 
Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question. 
“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”
Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”
“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly. 
She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”
But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten. 
Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy. 
Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight. 
By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas. 
Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective. 
Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal. 
And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God. 
He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading. 
Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31. 
He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible. 
… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.
10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.
“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out. 
There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for. 
(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.
And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)
“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”
It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver. 
(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)
Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”
Tap. 
(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)
Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.” 
Nothing. 
(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)
“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”
Tap. 
(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)
The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…
“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out. 
(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)
“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”
(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)
“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don’t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’” 
(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)
Tap. 
“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”
It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response. 
(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.
This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)
Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus. 
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years
Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!
He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”
Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more. 
(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be. 
Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.
A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)
Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something. 
It feels like everything. 
“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”
(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!
He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.
He can't do this.)
There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.
Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere
@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop
@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites
@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart
@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva
@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister
@dolphincliffs
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erideights · 1 year
Text
Little pieces here and there (5)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, three, four
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)
A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)
Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!
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"Say it."
"Nope."
"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.
"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."
''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear. 
In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."
''Anything?''
''Anything.''
Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath. 
As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.
''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''
That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.
''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.
‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''
''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.
''Ouch''
"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''
''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.
There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.
It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.
Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.
              …
And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time. 
They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.
"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."
As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.
It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.
And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.
Goddamnhim.
"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."
"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."
"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."
Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden. 
Is he actually that smart?
"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."
"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''
He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.
The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.
And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.
But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.
He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.
There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.
''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’
What.
He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.
He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''
''Including me''
''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”
''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.
(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.
In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.
''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''
Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.
(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.
The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.
Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.
Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.
It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.
Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.
But does she want it to pass? To fade away?
Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.
Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.
But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?
Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.
Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.
Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .
If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.
It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.
She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.
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monarchberrysblog · 4 months
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🫧࿐ THE BREAKING POINT ࿔*:・゚
⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 introduction | my love mine all mine
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🔞 Miguel O'Hara x fem!Reader
tags: strangers to close friends to lovers, college au, slow burn, fluff, angst, and older brother's academic rival.
summary: when rivalries go too far, Miguel takes to another level of extreme...
content warning: fluff, no warnings
word count: 569 words (it's the intro, guys)
author’s notes: oh my god, this took a LONG time to work on. But here we are!
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“What's your favorite color?” She asks in a soft tone, looking up at me in anticipation. I hum to her, soon looking down at her deep brown eyes. “My favorite color…” I mused to her, soon taking hold of her hand in a gentle grasp. My hand lightly squeezed hers, and I thought for a good moment.
I looked down at her anticipating eyes; her eyes were brown like Dana’s; however, there was something different about hers. Her eyes were brown. Brown like sweet, syrupy honey in the sunlight on a cold winter evening or being melty, like milk chocolate on a hot summer day with hints of golden specks.
Who knew that the color of cinnamon and mocha tasted so good to consume but to look at; at every given moment when she looked up at me with anticipation, brown wasn't Dana’s color. It's her. It belongs to her.
“Brown.” I shrugged before looking down at her.
"Really?" She retorts, her eyes squinting in playful disbelief. "That's such a basic answer. What type of brown are we talking about here? Bread brown or shitty brown?" She playfully punches my arm, causing a brushing sting under my skin that I can't help but rub.
I pause momentarily, gather my thoughts, and then look down at her with a small smile. "No, no," I chuckle, ruffling her hair into a muss. Her neatly painted acrylic nails reach up and fix the mess I left behind. “Think of mahogany wood.” I shrug before wrapping an arm around her. “Oh, okay!” She beams happily, resting her head on my shoulder.
It was easy to assume that the simile went over her head. Mahogany wood is one of the most durable and robust hardwoods. Strong to endure as flooring, even strong enough to build boats and yachts. Strong-headed, like her.
Mahogany. A dark amber color that you manage to light up when you get excited, especially when she sees the things she loves. Little red mushrooms with white spots, hearing that a pizza has stuffed crust, or how you discover pockets in your sundresses. Or how someone can remember something so simple about you.
I never want to forget the sparkle in your eyes.
“Your eyes,” She chimes in, cutting my train of thought.
“What about them?” I challenge her.
“They’re a russet color but a bit more red.” Her smile is so goddamn contagious, like the bubonic plague. It took everything in my system not to smile at the description. “Okay, and?”
“They’re beautiful.”
It felt like my heart skipped a palpitation from the cute, innocent compliment. I huffed, pretending to be amused by the compliment, trying to hide the crooked smile that was twitching to form. “You… Shut up.” I huff out to her, soon turning away from her, allowing her to be looking at my back instead of my crooked smile. “You’re smiling…”
“No, I’m not…” I mumbled through my palm, masking the smile.
“You’re smiling!” She repeats this but with such victory in her voice. “I want to see it!” She rushes over before me and grabs my wrist with her hand, wanting to see the shitty, crooked grin on my lips.
I shake my head, a smile playing at the corners of my lips as I press my hand against my mouth, muffling my voice. “No, you're not going to see,” I say, the words barely audible.
“Please?”
“No.”
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tag list: @peachey-pie @maiyart @boringpersonality @flordelalunas @pretty-pink-princesss @ryk-mt @cl3stevu @lalalunel @resident-clown @marshhbs @slushycoookie @brokenpoetliz @ohara-whore @thedevax @kavimoo @lazyjellyfish300 @bluesidez @mybvalentine @migueloharasbbm @itsfairly @mcmiracles
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delululand · 11 months
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txt ideal type (and what are they like in a relationship?)
don't take it too seriously, these are just my observations based on analysis of their words, interviews and behavior in general
p.s. i lived in Korea for a few months and it gave me some impressions too
soobin
he often said that he like cute type of beauty and he don’t like too sexy type like yeonjun hahaha
and even if it’s not 100% true, i think he really prefer more cute than sexy girl kind of innocent vibe, aegyo and all like that, but more sociable than he
he natural shy, introvert and doesn't look like someone who would be active in relationships? he himself said that he doesn’t like it when he has to choose or decide something, so I think he would like a sweet, but despite this, a girl who can be active and take initiative? oh guys i’m sorry I just immediately imagine that type of girls in Korea, they look veeery very cute, but they rule their boyfriends with an iron hand hahaha not like a bad way but their boys listen to them well
overall he seems like someone who is easy to get along with but not so easy to get close to? like yeah, he'll be nice, but you won't be best friends right away. so I really see him in the friends-lovers trope, maybe even after a few years
yeonjun
oh that guy it’s opposite
I think he would, on the contrary, like a very bright, noticeable, socially active girl with sexy vibe
he’s himself very sociable and sometimes he can be a natural flirt? like he doesn't do it intentionally, but he literally communicates this way so I think he would like a girl who could accept it? I was in such a relationship and I really see him in something similar, like he doesn’t have the goal of offending or hurting his girlfriend with his behavior, but this happens every time and there are only two options, he’ll date a girl who will don't be jealous or it will hurt them both
however, he is very gentle in relationships, very caring and I think he would really do a lot for his partner
I would say he is one of the most caring members, he is always worried about their health, even that situation in one of the to do episodes when Kai fell from laughing from his chair and while everyone was laughing, yeonjun was the only one who stood up and holding kay’s head helping him rise up from the floor with the words “hey your head, head, be careful. everything is fine?"
beomgyu
ohhh guys i know he often has a reputation as a clown, but behind this he actually hides a lot
firstly we know that he is an introvert and all the members said that he usually sits at home alone and is not very active outside of filming and even in last live he said how much he likes be home and hate go outside
secondly, if you pay attention to how he seriously talks about relationships, about love, about partnership it’s always 🥺😭 boy is sooo soft and gentle plus how he treats taehyung…
this may sound obvious, but I think he would like a gentle, caring girl who would not let him doubt himself and their relationship
for him, it’s quite difficult for me to single out a specific type of girl or something like that, he would like a fairly ordinary (???) girl like not too sexy, not too cute, just someone with whom he had a real understanding, whom he could trust and confide
I thought for a long time whether have i including nsfw things and how you can see it’s not there, but I CAN’T be silent how much he has dirty mind pervert gamer boyfriend vibe (and THAT photo with anitta….)
so I think one of the important things in a relationship for him would be sex and matching with his partner in this question? because I'm sure he would like to try a lot...
taehyun
this guy has two distinct sides
sometimes he is super sweet, cute, he lets beomgyu do literally everything to him and can show affection himself
and sometimes he's very serious and collected, like he keeps everything under control and all that. he has a very manly vibe at this moment like with what voice and face he usually says 아빠 왔다 (daddy came) and even this phrase itself…. (I also study psychology and we could go over mean this phrase, but today we won’t)
I think in real life the second side is more inherent to him, but with close people, including in relationships, he is more open, so the first side appears more often
he didn't talk much about his preferences in girls, but he talks pretty serious about relationships in general so I think he’s not type to like one-night stands. I think he's a very reliable guy in a relationship, he's responsible I think he's the kind of guy who seems pretty cold and reserved in public but super cute when you're only together
in one of the old videos, all the guys except him answered that they would ask to go out their crash, can showing affection and say "i love you”, but he said “i’m just a coward, not a loser” and yes, it’s all what you have to know hahaha
idk is this still relevant for him, but it may well be, so I think that he would also be comfortable with a relationship that would grow from friendship so that he doesn’t have to confess first and everything happens naturally
huening kai
i don’t know he’s just so cute, romantic and gentle
he has mentioned more than once that he likes girls with short hair and because of this I’m a little vague about the image of a girl he would like i don’t know why, for me his ideal type is pretty obvious in character, but not in appearance
he is literally the king of untouchable among all the group members, even soobin said that it was very difficult to make friends with him and he literally overpowered him for several months until kai let him closer to him
soobin also mentioned that from time to time he tried to introduce him to his friends and other people, but Kai did not make friends with any of them. we can’t know why exactly this is happening, perhaps they were not interesting to him, perhaps he is embarrassed to communicate with strangers, perhaps he has high standards for friendship and many other reasons, but we can draw one conclusion, it is really difficult to get close to him
I think he would have liked a girl who was a little more persistent? not intrusive, but one that can be okay with the fact that he won’t open quickly
It's also known that he has some issues with accepting his appearance and would benefit from someone who knows how to support, praise at the right time and generally be gentle with him, this guy is literally the softest marshmallow pls love him😭
p.s. I would also be very interested to hear your opinion on this matter, maybe you have something to add?
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fate-motif · 1 month
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list of voyager characters ranked by least to most done dirty by the writers
10. tom paris: this boy got everything he could have ever wanted from a trip to the delta quadrant. he got a bestie who’s way too good for him, a wife he refuses to cherish and yet she married him and had his child!!! and authorities who refuse to punish him most of the time because he’s a pretty talented flyboy. even modern day trek writers cannot start lavishing praise on this douche and like, okay, he’s not all bad, but compared to what other voyager characters had for story potential and performances it’s crazy how good he got it. the only true indignity this bitch got was threshold.
9. neelix: i feel like neelix lovers are gonna brawl with me about this but i’m still steadfast that neelix was one of the characters least done dirty in voyager, but only comparatively. like, if neelix were on ds9 or on tng he would absolutely be considered an insane waste of story potential with his sad clown complex and his weird little relationship with tuvok but lbr. if they had gone even harder on neelix’s tragedies it would have felt less like he’s a sad clown and his sad all the time and that takes away the appeal of the character. also the mere fact he got to date kes when he never would have deserved her in a million years is already too huge a win for him. i mean it. 
8. the emh: he gets to be a step above neelix because the writers are so fucking bad at writing about hologram rights that it’s a serious disservice to him when the whole of the show star trek voyager bends over backwards over this guy and i cannot stand him. he gets all the screentime, all the tragic episodes, everyone is forced to be sympathetic about him, but at the same time the show makes everything so much worse for him by letting him engineer hologram characters on the holodeck to be his toys (when there’s a whole episode where we realize yes the holodeck characters are real and do not like being murdered, so maybe having two hawaiian babes or your white blond 50s housewife fawning over you is horrifying???) the writers of voyager suck so hard they can’t even write their golden boy well enough to actually make the core of his very character ideologically consistent. depressing.
7. seven of nine: i know people want me to put her over janeway, and i refuse. i’ve made no secret of this, i resent seven, i resent her so hard for taking over everybody’s screentime, i find how serious and untouchable and perfect she’s supposed to be among the voyager cast, the show writers absolutely screwed over every other character save for the emh for her sake and i resent that!!! i will never forgive her, even if it’s not her fault!!! but i’m gonna be realistic. it’s the catsuit. it’s the catsuit, it’s the obsession of putting her in the most stereotypically feminine storylines as an extension of finding her humanity, it’s the mere extension of being a woman written by mostly men. she was screwed over, hard, but i’m serious when i say: not compared to everyone else above her.
6. janeway: oh boy. i know, i know, how dare i put janeway over seven when janeway wasn’t forced to wear shrink wrap, but she’s up this high because the writers could not agree over anything she ever did and it shows. god bless kate mulgrew for making a consistent character out of that mess, but if it weren’t for her sheer talent and professionalism, janeway would be up there with archer in the list of captains with the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. the rest of the shows lavish love on their captains. they talk about their backstory in-depth. they let them have romantic adventures every once in a while. janeway gets to be almost solely defined by her mission to bring her crew home and considering how multidimensional characters like picard and sisko are, that’s…depressing. to say nothing of how kate mulgrew was being forced out of spending time with her family for a show that in the later seasons started to edge her out in favor of the bouncier, sexier girl they brought in. like. as a captain, janeway was done SO dirty by the writers. it’s crazy. we should talk about this more. 
5. tuvok: why is he above janeway? … aside from the fact that after they introduced seven his screentime went to the chopping block. to put it simply, waste of potential. so many of tuvok’s episodes rehash his insistence on staying steadfast to traditional vulcan values, which is great, except for the fact that we don’t need that story told over and over and over again when they could follow more interesting avenues that several tuvok-centric episodes pointed towards. we could have seen more of his relationship with janeway in the past. we could have seen him truly come to terms with trusting the maquis with his life in the earlier seasons. we even had a planned episode where we met his family! imagine if we had actually seen t’pel and have her be an actual character instead of a representation of why we’re not seeing tuvok fuck! it’s tragic. it’s absolutely tragic. 
4. b’elanna: ending up with tom paris the way he treats her should make this one a no-brainer, but i’m going to keep going, because there’s a lot more to be done here. the white male writers have no idea what they’re doing writing this character, and yet, much like janeway, roxann just barely claws out a cohesive character from the mess she was given, but that doesn’t mean that the process was graceful. so she hates herself because she thinks her klingon traits make her unlovable, then why make the other voyager characters berate her on her temper incessantly and with no room for argument and make them in the right? are we also supposed to see her as hindered by her klingon ancestry? yes. the answer is yes. the writers are racist. the writers are so goddamn racist it’s nit even a joke b’elanna i’m so sorry they did this to you you deserved so much better. 
3. kes: yes she’s in third place. nobody wants to talk about kes, because her writing was weird, and jennifer lien wasn’t as successful in sculpting an engaging character out of the garbage writing she was given, i say that if b’elanna had been taken out of voyager in s4, the same could be said for her. everything that the writers do to disrespect janeway and seven is triplicated in her, even more so magnified because she’s not a tough boss ass bitch who uses guns, but a lowly nurse, which means the writers are completely disinterested in exploring her inner life. i cannot stress this enough. kes left her homeworld when they are going to lose all support making it in a desert planet frequently raided by slavers, and we never talk about it again. it is galling how little the writers ever give a fuck about her and nobody mentions it, because again. she’s the most feminine of the female characters, which means not even the fans who understand how misogynistic the voyager writers are care about interrogating her inner life and that is the most depressing thing of them all. that’s why she’s the female character done dirtiest by the writers.
2 and 1. harry and chakotay: they’re tied. they’re tied because the racism is just inescapable in both their characters and it’s so ever-present, so impossible to ignore, so repellent that most people give up on even looking at them as characters because they so often end up channelling the writers’ naked, unabashed racism you want to avert your eyes. i mean it. i mute most early voyager episodes when chakotay is onscreen because i hate that fucking pan flute. if you fuck up writing a character of color this hard, you automatically owe reparations. and that’s why i’m fine with that insufferable republican freak robert beltran having been on prodigy because look at me in the eye and tell me paramount did not owe him from everything they put him through while working on voyager. and that’s also why i’m demanding harry be rescued the same way in the future. it’s just reparations. garrett wang is owed so hard i’m not even joking. i don’t care about debates about the other spots on this list so long as you admit that in first place rightfully goes to harry and chakotay. 
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