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carakook · 3 months

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🎀 A “Coquette” Misunderstanding 🎀

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

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♡Pairings: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

♡Synopsis: Jungkook has been a self proclaimed fuck boy after his last relationship ended fairly messily… until he met you. Started out as fuck buddies, but he always had a huge crush on you. With time, he realized that he’s actually falling in love with you, and he is itching to make you his girl. He knows being a fuck boy means he has to prove himself when it comes to being serious, so he comes up with the perfect gift to give you when he confesses… only for it to turn into the biggest fucking mess.

♡Genre: Romance/Comedy

♡Word count: 5k+

♡Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, mentions of sex, lewd references, lots of talk about penises, talks of being in love (ew!!!), arguing, mentions of alcohol, no smut but this fic revolves heavily around sex, making out, Jungkook is kinda stupid (bless his lil heart), also kind of weird in general? Let me know if I miss anything!

♡Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

♡A/N: This is my first request! I hope whoever requested it likes it, it was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a lil carried away… oops! The request was fuck boy Jungkook falls in love with Y/N, but there’s a misunderstanding that eventually gets resolved and they live happily every after! I have no idea how I came up with this 😭 it’s kinda silly and kinda weird but I think it’s cute. I hope you guys like it. 😅

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Jungkook finds himself wondering if he can possibly get anymore fucking stupider than he feels right now.

It seems when it comes to you, he simply loses brain cells. He’s not sure what it is about you, but anything involving you short circuits his brain as of late, and he is continuously fucking things up.

Maybe it’s because you’re so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because the way you look at him makes his knees weak. Maybe it’s simply because he’s a man, and men are stupid… Or maybe, it’s because he had the recent revelation that for the first time literal in years, he has caught feelings.

And what’s worse is that he’s realized this isn’t just a little crush. He’s fucking in love with you, and it’s making him forget how to function.

Jungkook doesn’t catch feelings, not since his last relationship ended very messily two years ago. The way the relationship ended left a very bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go back to his college days of being a fuck boy and never falling in love again…

Which was working for some time. It was freeing to be able go back to his old ways; he could enjoy a woman’s body and worship them like the goddesses they are, and then wake up the next day without feeling any obligation… or anything at all, really.

Until you came along.

You had been friends for years, although you were never very close. He always thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, but he also thought you were so out of his league. You weren’t the type of girl to go for fuck boys; you were put together and had very high standards, you knew your worth. He liked that, but never really had the guts to push it because he was sure he didn’t fit those standards.

That is, until one drunken night at one of Jimin’s parties… you flirted with him heavily. It was the biggest fucking ego boost that he ever had. He never assumed you would be interested in him, because his noncommittal habits weren’t a secret. But on this night you were very obviously interested in him. You were being touchy, and sweet, and you just looked so fucking pretty.

This was the first night you slept together, and Jungkook doesn’t like admitting that you unraveled him in a way no other woman had. The sex was mind blowing. He has never felt such intense chemistry with someone before… and fuck, you gave the best head he ever gotten. He was addicted after that, he knew he didn’t want it to be a one time thing.

He didn’t want to make you his girlfriend necessarily, good sex still wasn’t enough for him to consider being with someone seriously again… but he did want to see you again. The next morning he was bashful; made you breakfast, drew you a warm bath with essential oils and pretty smelling soap, and even ordered you a very last minute bouquet of flowers to wake up to.

This alone should have told him that things would be different with you, because although Jungkook always treated a woman with love and care when they gifted him their body for a night, he never went this out of his way to impress them.

He told himself it was because he felt the need to overcompensate. In bed he’s very confident, but out of bed, he’s not as sure of himself… especially with you. He felt lucky to have a night with you, and he knew he needed to put an effort in to keep you interested in him because he wasn’t exactly your type. If he was able to keep you interested, then maybe you’d see him again.

He was right, you didn’t normally go for fuck boys. Casual sex wasn’t exactly your favorite, because men often forget to focus on the woman, too. You weren’t exactly looking for anything serious, but you also weren’t looking to sleep with some guy who only cared about himself in bed. And most hookups you had thus far ended with you less than satisfied.

It was uncharacteristic for you to sleep with guys like Jungkook, or really give them any attention at all. But Jungkook has always been pretty, and he’s always been so fucking sweet… that night at the party, he looked extra appealing to you.

Even then, you weren’t planning on doing it again. The chemistry was undeniably intense, but you weren’t a fan of sharing. There were health risks to sharing partners if one of you weren’t careful, and you didn’t like that it made you question yourself. You tried it before, and it just wasn’t for you. You like exclusivity, and that’s ok. Everyone has preferences and boundaries and not everyone will agree with yours.

This is why you didn’t plan to see him again. But when you woke up and saw all the sweet little things he did for you, you were definitely tempted… what really got to you was how he fucking looked at you; he looked at you like a love sick fucking puppy and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. He was adorable. You’d never been with a man who was so fucking sexy but also so goddamn cute at the same time.

No guy had gone through such trouble after what was supposed to be a one night stand before. It was like he really was a dog; he brought you these little gifts in the form of acts of service in the hopes you would continue giving him head pats. Or, actual head in this case…

And although he wasn’t actually love sick, he definitely was a bit pussy whipped.

Temptation won in the end.

There was no spoken agreement between you two… you just started having sex regularly. And every time it was fucking toe curling. No man took care of your body so perfectly and left you 100% satisfied. But beyond the sex, you both found that you thoroughly enjoyed being around each other. You’d never knew each other well before this, you were mere acquaintances who were familiar with each other because of mutual friends, but you grew closer and got to know each other as time went on, and in the end you kept it going.

Of course you were worried about his reputation, but you didn’t push him or even ask for exclusivity. He never explicitly said that he wouldn’t be exclusive with you, but you started liking him and the sex was enough to let go of that boundary and make an exception for him. You knew he was safe and you knew he would always treat you right. This was enough for you… even if it sometimes bothered you that you didn’t know whether he was sleeping around or not. He wasn’t your boyfriend, just a fuck buddy you grew fond of.

Little did you know, he had no desire to sleep with anyone else. You didn’t even need to tell him these boundaries, because he knew without you telling him. He wouldn’t dare do something to fuck this up. The sex was so good that he didn’t have the want for anyone else, he didn’t even think about it. He still wasn’t quite ready to be serious with someone, but he was content with you in a way that he never had been any of his previous hookups or fuck buddies. He wanted to keep you as long as you’d let him.

A routine started; as time went on you spent more time together, hung out often, and fucked like rabbits. You played with his hair and scratched his back, you picked on him and made fun of him in a way that made him laugh every time, and you knew exactly how to handle him even when he was a bit overwhelming. He was so content with what you both started.

Until recently.

Jungkook started realizing a few weeks ago that maybe having thoughts of an entire future with someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of you for hours… he’d imagine taking you on actual dates, not just little outings disguised as friends hanging out. He’d imagine getting to brag about you being his girlfriend. But what really started to make it obvious was when he imagined what you’d look like in a wedding dress…

Five months in and he realized he’s falling for you. He’s so fucking gone for you, and for once, he’s giddy about it.

You’d both developed this sort of playful relationship. When you weren’t fucking, you were always joking around and making each other laugh. You both had a very crude sense of humor and so many little inside jokes. It was comfortable, and he started feeling like a kid on Christmas Day at the thought of keeping it going forever.

He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you’d be hesitant because of his history. He wanted to do something for you that not only would prove to you he’s serious, but something that was special. He didn’t want to get you a piece of jewelry, or a bouquet of flowers with a card; he wanted it to be something only you would experience. He wanted to go all out for you.

He recalled a conversation you both had one time over dinner at his place while watching a drama. The guy in the drama was proposing to the main character, and it was as cliche as any other drama.

“That’s so cheesy. Why can’t guys be more creative? He’s asking her to spend fucking forever with him, more thought should go into it.”

“Yeah? Well if a guy proposed to you how would you want him to do it then?”

“I dunno… but not like that. Forever is a long fucking time, whoever decides to propose to me better do something more special than a damn ring.”

“But that’s literally what a guy is supposed to do, how else would he do it? You’re supposed to get the girl a ring and get on your knees n’ shit.”

“That’s so cliche though! I dunno, I’d rather something else… like maybe a dildo that was a replica of his dick. Something to the effect of ‘will you ride my dick forever?’”

That conversation ended in laughter of course, because you were only joking… but also, as Jungkook thought back on it, it would be so fucking perfect.

Not only would it show that he remembered the little things, but it would also break the stigma that he created for himself; it would show you that he was serious, he had no desire to be with anyone else sexually emotionally, and it would fit in with your playful dynamic. Like a little inside joke, and although he isn’t asking you to marry him, he wants the message to be clear that he wants to build a forever with you.

So he did some research. He original thought about getting you a dildo that was a replica of his dick, and found that there were DIY kits he could buy to make it himself. But also… why would you need a dildo if you had him? So he researched the more artistic aspect of things and found that there were actually a lot of artists who specialized in making replica sculptures of men and women’s body parts.

He liked this much more, because he felt it was a bit more sentimental and maybe more fitting. He found one artist in particular who’s sculptures and paintings looked very realistic. In their portfolio, they featured some comparisons of the pictures that inspired the sculpture vs. the sculpture they made, and there was barely a difference. They clearly had talent, and he was totally fine dropping however much money to get this done for you.

So he contacted the artist to order a commission. It was a hefty price, because he paid to have the process expedited. He wanted this done as soon as possible because he was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend. But the price was worth it. The artist asked him some questions and listened to his requests. His only request was that it would be life sized, it would have a little pink bow wrapped around it (because you loved cute things, he remembers you called it ‘coquette’ once.), and somewhere it would have ‘Property of Y/N’ on it. The artist was confident that they could have it sculpted, shipped, and delivered by the end of the week. All the artist needed was a picture of his penis for reference.

Awkward, but understandable. It was very professional, obviously if he wanted the sculpture to look like his dick the artist would need a reference photo. This was purely for artistic purposes, it’s not like he was sending nudes or getting off on it. He was doing this for you and he couldn’t fucking wait to see the finished product or hear your little giggles when he presents it to you.

But of course, in his excitement, he fucks up exponentially.

He was supposed to email the photo of his dick to the artist. So he has no fucking idea why after he took the photo, he texted it to you… probably because subconsciously, who the fuck else would he be sending pictures of his dick to? He’s not even the kind of guy to send nudes, but he has a few times with you on nights that you’re both too busy to actually meet up and have sex.

He could’ve just played it off and said something stupid like ‘surprise’, but he immediately panicked because he was afraid you’d figure out what he’s doing. Which is so fucking stupid because how the fuck would you ever guess what he’s doing?

So what does he do instead?

He handled it very poorly, to say the least. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he had no idea why the told you he sent it to the wrong person. It was because it was the truth, that’s why. He didn’t really think anything of it when he admitted he sent it to the wrong person, because he had a clear conscious. Why lie when he has a clear conscious?

He panicked not because he was guilty, but because he was scared that you would catch on and the surprise would be ruined… which is so fucking stupid. Out of everything, you couldn’t possibly guess what he was doing.

He didn’t think about the implications of telling you that it was the wrong person, and it just went downhill from there. He really should have just told you the truth in that moment, but he doubts you would have believed him. The story would seem far fetched at this point because of how vague he was being in the beginning.

And you really didn’t believe him. You trusted Jungkook, but that message reminded you that you aren’t exclusive with him. He isn’t your boyfriend. He has a reputation of being a fuck boy and he’s just your fuck buddy. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he really was messing around with other girls considering he technically has every right to… but it still stung.

If he had come out and admitted it was meant for another girl, you would have probably been a bit bitchy about it, but you wouldn’t have fought with him over it. He has the right to see other people when you both never agreed to only see each other. It was that feeling of being lied to that set you off, you fucking hate being lied to. You have your fair share of history involving men who lie, and although you made an exception on one of your boundaries for Jungkook, you refused to make an exception on being lied to for any man.

And even though he wasn’t actually lying, how the fuck would you have known that? He’s right, if he did send you some elaborate paragraph about what the picture was actually for, and how he just instinctively sent it to you after taking it, you probably wouldn’t have believed him after he denied it so vaguely like he did.

For days he tried to talk to you. He blew up your phone, called and texted hundreds of times, blew up your Instagram notifications, and even started fucking making tweets on Twitter begging you to talk to him and let him explain (dramatic as fuck, his friends made fun of him for it, and he didn’t care because he was desperate.) You ignored him, of course, because deep down you were a bit hurt. You really couldn’t stand the thought that we was sending nudes to someone else, possibly fucking them, and then lying to you about it.

It reminds you as to why you have the boundary of exclusivity… and also makes you realize that maybe you like Jungkook a little more than you thought you did.

He’s a mess. He kept debating whether or not to just show up to your place, get on his knees and beg you to listen to him… but he knew you wouldn’t let him in, not unless he had proof of what actually happened. He feels so goddamn stupid. He could easily show up and show you the email as proof, explain his thought process and what the picture was for, what he was doing, confess that he’s fucking in love with you and wanted to do something to show you how serious he is…

But he decides to give you space. He knows that it’s unlikely you want to listen to him or see him right now, and he needs to let you cool off. By the time the sculpture is delivered, he can show up, explain himself, and do everything as planned.

It’s the longest fucking week of his life. His thoughts are consumed with you and he prays that when he does show up, it isn’t too late, and you’ll let him explain himself.

That you’ll say yes after it’s all said and done.

The next Friday, he receives the package. He nearly fumbles with it as he opens it, wanting to get this shit over with so you guys will be ok again.

Just as expected, it’s perfect. It’s obviously not the exact same as his dick, but it’s pretty fucking close. It looks exactly as you would expect a sculpture of a dick to look like. The bow that was sculpted onto it is perfect, pink and detailed, wrapped between the tip of the sculpted dick and the base. At the very bottom of the base, in tiny cursive letters reads ‘Property of Y/N’. He thinks it’s perfect, and if you find it in yourself to hear him out, he knows you’ll love it. He can already imagine your cheeks getting pink as you giggle at the absurd gesture.

He gets himself ready. He puts on some cologne, brushes his teeth, stares at himself in the mirror a little too long trying to psych himself up. He knows showing up without warning is probably not the best way to go, but he hopes that once you open the door and see him bearing gifts, you’ll be more open to listening to what he has to say.

He makes a stop on his way to your place because he impulsively decides to buy you some flowers and a cute gift box for the sculpture. He’s in a rush because he feels like he’s dying on the inside with you so upset at him. When he gets the flowers, he just stuffs a wad of cash in the florists hand before running back off to his car. He probably overpaid for them… but he doesn’t care.

He makes quick work of putting the sculpture inside of the pink box he picked out, adds a matching pink bow for good measure. Once he’s satisfied, he carefully placed the flowers and the gift box in his front seat, and nearly peels out of the parking lot in a hurry to get to you.

You’ve been sulking all damn week, because you miss him. At first you were pissed, because you swore he was lying, he just had to be. Why else would he be sending dick pics to someone? But as the week went on, you did start to question yourself. Because Jungkook had never given you a reason to not trust him, and despite that fact that neither of you have ever explicitly said it was exclusive… you know that it is.

Because when you’re both in a room full of people, his eyes never stray. When he tells one of his stupid jokes, the first person he looks for a reaction in is you. When he goes to the grocery store, despite you not living together, he always stocks up on your favs. And every morning and every night, no matter what, you are the first and last person he talks to. The little things tell you everything you need to know.

Even now, after he stopped blowing your phone up because you continued to ignore him, he made sure to text you good morning and goodnight.

So why would he lie? Why would he lie when all of the signs are there that you are his sole focus? You may be unaware of how deep his feelings are for you, but the little things show where his loyalties lay.

It’s just so hard to believe him because you can’t possibly fathom who else he could be sending nudes to, and if the reason wasn’t sexual, then why? You don’t exactly send pictures of your genitals to someone for casual or platonic reasons, so…

You’re sitting on your couch watching TV and pouting when he knocks at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you have a feeling it’s him… you debate not answering the door, but in the end you do, because you’re just as irritable without him as he is you.

You open the door and keep a neutral expression on your face, you see him standing there with those same love sick puppy eyes and you nearly fold right then and there.

He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a fairly large pink box with a bow on top. So he came prepared, it seems. You don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the supposed bribe, but you keep an open mind.

“What do you want?” You say cooly… as if you’re not going to let him in anyway.

“Y/N can we please talk? I know you hate me right now, but please just let me explain myself. I swear this is all just a really big and stupid misunderstanding.”

He has no idea what’s going on in your head right now because you seem so calm, so collected. He wishes he could be like you, because if you don’t let him in, he swears he’s gonna cry and bang on your door until you let him. He’s not above throwing a fit at this point.

You stand there for a moment staring at him, making it seem as if you’re skeptical… but really, you just missed his pretty face.

“Fine.”

You open your door for him and he nearly fucking pushes you down when he barges his way in, afraid you’re going to change your mind.

He makes his way to your couch and sits down, pats the spot next to him and sits the gift box down on your coffee table along with the flowers.

“These are for you… open it first.”

You cross your arms and scoff at him, don’t sit down yet. You start to wonder if he’s avoiding actually explaining, wanting to butter you up first so that you’ll be more willing to forgive him.

“What? No, explain why you lied about sending—“

He holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “Dammit, Y/N, open the damn gift first. You need to see it in order for me to explain. Please.”

You huff at him in response, because it’s kinda hot when he talks to you like that… but now is not the time to get hot and bothered. You don’t even know what his supposed ‘explanation’ is or if it’s something you’re willing to forgive.

You do listen to him though, you take a seat on the couch and grab the pink box. You take off the bow, which you love, and you carefully open up the box to reveal…

A penis. Hm.

You take it out and start inspecting it… you don’t know how to feel yet. You’ve been sleeping with him for months, you both know each others bodies very intimately, so you can immediately tell that it is indeed his dick, specifically because of the little heart shaped freckle down the shaft. You notice the bow that’s sculpted into it too, and you find yourself giggling at it without meaning to. Just like he thought you would. The entire gesture makes your cheeks warm. Such an odd fucking gift, but you already love it.

You turn it over, and you see at the base of it right above the testicles of the sculpture, in cute little letters ‘Property of Y/N’.

As weird as it is, you find the gesture so fucking cute… but you also don’t understand it. You don’t understand why he just gave you a coquette sculpture of his dick, what this has to do with the dick pic, and why it says property of Y/N, because that’s a very serious thing to put on a sculpture of his dick that he just have to you.

Before you gush over how much you love the silly thing, you ask wearily, “Ok… but like… what does this have to do with anything?”

Jungkook let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and his heart pounds because he’s so fucking thankful you seem to be open to hearing him out.

He begins explaining hesitantly, “Yeah, right, so umm… lately I’ve been thinking… about us. And I sort of realized that I… like you. Like, a lot. Not just the sex or the whole fuck buddy thing, but I really fucking like you as a person Y/N.”

Now your heart is pounding because you genuinely didn’t expect this confession. Which in return, makes you impatient… because you like him too. But you can’t tell him that until you figure out what the fuck happened with the dick pic and wether or not you need to stop this before it starts, or forgive him, or even apologize for not letting him explain.

“Ok but what does that have to do—“

“I’m getting to that. Just… ugh, shut up, this is embarrassing.”

He looks away from you and starts biting at his lip ring. You feel kinda bad, because he really does look embarrassed about it. But oh, it is so fucking cute…

You nod at him and lean back into the couch, the sculpture in your lap as you silently agree to let him continue and try to keep your impatience in check.

He reluctantly continues, “After realizing this, I wanted to… tell you. Wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I didn’t want to be cliche about it, I remember us talking about it before… so I wanted to do something special… something only for you.”

He lets out a breathy laugh and squeezes his eyes shut, because he starts overthinking a bit. He wanted to to something special for you, so he got a fucking sculpture of his dick made… ridiculous train of thought. Such a fuck boy thing to do.

“I remembered you making a joke about how if a guy proposes, you’d want it to be with something other than a ring… and I’m not proposing! But you know, it’s similar so… yeah. Fuck. Anyway, I did some research and found out that apparently dick sculpting is a type of art? And my dumb ass thought that was perfect…”

He chances a glance at you, looking up from his lashes as he sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. So far, you seem receptive of the story… you don’t seem to be suspicious of him yet. Thank fuck.

“I commissioned an artist to make a sculpture of… my dick. For you. And they needed a picture for reference… it was all very professional. But when I took the picture, I guess I just automatically sent it to you, because I don’t do that shit with anyone else. So I didn’t think. But when I realized I texted it to you, instead of emailing it to the artist… I told the truth because I didn’t think about the implications. And I did a very fucking bad job at attempting to explain when you did start questioning it. That’s my bad…”

It’s slowly starting to make sense. The story is a bit… far fetched. But it’s so far fetched that you highly doubt Jungkook would have gone through the trouble to actually commission an artist and drop who knows how much on this sculpture just to save his ass. It may be a very specific situation, an original experience, if you will… but the proof is in the pudding, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t lying.

“I should’ve just told you what happened but I doubted you��d believe me after how badly I fumbled. So I waited for the damn thing to show up. I can show you the emails back and forth with the artist and stuff too if you want… but Y/N I swear I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I haven’t fucked or even looked at another woman since we started messing around… don’t want to. Only want you. So please believe me.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes, and gives you a small pitiful smile. You do believe him. You really didn’t have any reason not to to begin with, but the miscommunication prevented you from seeing that.

It really was just some very stupid misunderstanding.

You say nothing. Instead, you set the sculpture down carefully, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his face gently, and lean in to kiss him.

Fuck. He missed your lips so bad.

He immediately kisses you back, damn near whines at how good it feels to have you again. To see that you aren’t rejecting his explanation or refusing to trust him, but you’re forgiving him. He kisses you back sweetly, one of his hands coming to the nape of your neck while the other cradles your jaw.

You pull back and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Was stupid of me. Forgive me.”

He smiles so fucking stupidly at this and nudges his nose against yours. He starts peppering your face with little kisses as he says, “Forgive me for being a fucking idiot…”

One last huge smooch to your forehead, and he pulls you into his lap. He feels so much more lighter now that things are cleared up. God, he wants to fucking laugh at how absurd it all is. All week he started to regret ever choosing to get a sculpture made of his fucking penis as a way to ask you to be his damn girlfriend… who the fuck does that?

Him, apparently. And he started wishing he fucking didn’t.

But seeing you now, seeing how you’re smiling at him with the same adoration in your eyes as him, he’s thankful he did it. Sure, was a very odd gift to get you… but it suits your dynamic perfectly. And the way you giggled at it bashfully, he knows you absolutely loved it.

He reaches down and squeezes your ass as you sit on his lap, not trying to initiate anything, just wanting to touch you. He stares at you in silence for a moment, because a week away from your pretty face was far too much.

He flicks his lip ring with his tongue before asking, “So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend then…?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward when he asks, but he’s nervous that you’ll say no because you didn’t really say anything when he explained earlier…

Stupid boy, can’t he see how much you fucking adore him? Of course you’ll say yes.

But even then, you hum in response as your hands reach up to play with his hair, as if you’re mulling it over and considering your options.

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Of course he will. Fucking anything you want if that means you’ll be his girlfriend, if you’ll let him love you and fuck you and take care of you for what he hopes is forever. And honestly, the thought of you putting a bow on his dick weirdly turns him on.

You giggle at him, lean in and press your lips against his again. You kiss him once more, a bit more tongue this time just so you can hear him pant and feel his heart beat faster against your chest.

When you finally come up for air, you say against his lips, “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, was nervous you were going to say no. But you didn’t. And he has never felt so fucking excited or proud about something, he swears.

He can actually say that you’re his girl now. Thank god for his coquette dick.

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haykawas · 7 months

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✩•̩̩͙*˚ BLOSSOMING LOVE ROUTE

this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here! Ah, so you've decided to go the easy route and continue with your childhood sweetheart, I see. Great choice! – wc : 2.1K

Satoru calls your name, confusion seeping through his tone.

“Why are you chasing me, Satoru? Go away.”

“Why are you running away?”

He catches up to you in a few strides, and you mentally curse at him for having such long legs. His fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you, but you violently yank your arm back.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He continues to speak, and although you can hear his voice, the words make no sense to you.

It keeps ringing in your head. What’s wrong?

It’s like he has no clue what he does to you, how his actions make you feel. It makes you wonder if he even cares, with the way he never notices anything. It’s like he makes himself blind on purpose and turns off all of his senses when you’re in the room.

You’re sick of it.

“What’s wrong?” You echo him, “Do you seriously have no clue, Gojo? Or do you just pretend to, like you always do?”

He knows it’s serious because you never use his last name, and his heart clenches at the thought he’s possibly hurt you deeply.

“Pretend? What do you mean?” He presses his lips in a thin line. He thinks he might know why you’re so upset, and he’s afraid to hear you confirm it.

“I know you heard what I said.” You finally breathe out. “I saw the expression on your face change and the look in your eyes! You… You looked… Disgusted.”

His lips part to answer, but nothing comes out.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Wait! Please, just…” His voice breaks. Of course he knows, because how couldn’t he? You always had this nasty habit of raising your voice when you talked about something you were passionate about, and this particular time, he'd been just on time to hear you speak of him with so much passion.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “It’s not… I don’t know how to do shit like this, okay? I’m not used to it!”

“Do what?”

“This! Just…” He waves his hands around, “It scares me, alright?”

“What? Feelings?”

He purses his lips together.

Your laugh is bitter, “And you think it’s easy for me, do you? That pining after my childhood best friend for months was fun? At least spare me a little and reject me upfront! What the fuck, Satoru! How could you be so- so-”

“So what?” He scoffs, “Say it.”

“So selfish!” You accuse, your voice echoing into the night. “You’re egotistical, and you always think the world revolves around you! Because you bear all the suffering in the world, don’t you? And I don’t know for the life of me why I fell in love with you!”

The words hang between you in the deafening silence of night. You don’t mean them, those words spoken under the influence of your frustration.

Yet, you don’t correct yourself.

Still, a thin layer of regret starts to plague your mind when you see Satoru’s eyes flash with hurt and disbelief, and you avert your gaze.

You quickly dismiss the feeling.

“Take that back. ” He demands, his voice a little rough. It’s more like a plea.

“What?”

“The last part, take it back. You don’t mean it.”

Your frustration morphs into bitterness, and defiance bubbles into you.

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

“I don’t think you want to know that.” He shoots back, taking a step forward in defiance.

“Oh, yeah?” You scoff, still refusing to back down from the argument. “Bet.”

The tension crackles between you, so much that you don’t notice how close you are to him. You’re so close you can feel his breath against your cheeks as you gaze into his baby-blue eyes.

And you’re so entranced by the sight that you don’t notice as he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate, forceful kiss.

You gasp in surprise.

He tries to dominate you, and while it hasn’t registered in your brain that you are kissing him, you return it as simply as it is breathing. It’s a fight for dominance, one that leads your back to be pressed against the wall of an alley,

And it ends as suddenly as it begins, leaving you panting and confused against a stone-cold wall.

Satoru’s breath is ragged, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. A grin spreads, almost boyish in its charm, and he leans down to kiss you again. This time, he captures your lips in a softer, more tender kiss, like he’s apologizing for the previous one.

You kiss back.

It’s not until you part again that the situation finally dawns on you.

“W–what–” You turn your back to him when you feel your cheeks grow warm, your hands covering your mouth.

“Why did you do this?” You ask in a whisper, your mind still a little fuzzy.

He walks around to stand in front of you, gently taking your hands in his so he can take a look at your face. Your cheeks are flushed, and he finds it so endearing he could have melted right then and there. He leans his head towards you, his finger tapping on your jaw to get you to look at him.

“We’re friends, right? Friends kiss each other all the time.” He jokes, and you instantly hit him on the shoulder. He laughs, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay! Stop!”

“I’m serious, Satoru. If this is some game to you…”

“Oh, come on! Am I such a whore in your eyes?” You look at him pointedly, and he says, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.”

“You know,” He sighs, “I’m surprised Suguru managed to keep the secret for so long.”

“What secret?”

He says your name ever so softly with a tone you’ve never heard from him before, “And here I thought I was being way too obvious.” He laughs softly, “I’ve actually..” He hesitates, and you realize it must be serious. You’ve rarely seen Satoru unsure of himself, when he’s usually the friend everyone goes to for a confidence boost.

He takes a deep breath, “I think I’ve loved you since forever, you know?”

The revelation makes your breath catch in your throat, and he can’t seem to maintain eye contact. He’s rehearsed this moment so many times in his head, but now that he’s here, before you, he’s afraid he might just stutter and ruin it. Satoru might have been a confident man, but he isn’t used to expressing his feelings with words. He’s used to showing affection through actions or quality time, so this is uncharted territory for him. And he’s not sure he likes it.

“And I know what you’re thinking. That I’m full of shit because it feels like I’ve been pushing you into Sugu’s arms the whole time, but I genuinely thought you liked him.” He laughs softly.

All of it is true. The fact that he's been feeling strangely around both of his best friends since they started getting closer and going out without him. It used to be just you and him, or him and Suguru. Then it was all of you, but recently it'd felt like it was just the both of you.

And he felt... left out.

And as stupid as it was, he believed that making up a new crush and some excuses would spare him from confronting the sight of Suguru making doe eyes at you when he thought you weren't looking.

“And I wouldn't have blamed you," He chuckles, "Plus, you have to admit you’ve both been very close recently! I felt like some shitty third wheel most of the time.” He finishes with a playful roll of his eyes.

You hadn’t realized he felt that way, that your growing proximity with Suguru would make him keep his distances from you. They were always both trying to help you, in their own way. And you feel like you don’t deserve any of them in your life.

“But yeah, it’s…” He takes a deep breath, and says the words you've been wanting to hear for a long time now. “I love you. Since the first time I saw you play by yourself on those shitty swings at the neighboring park and decided to join you. You know how I’ve always been scared of heights? I mean, it’s not something I developed over time. I guess I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, at the time.” He chuckles. “Old habits die hard.” He adds with a shy smile, and you notice how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other, as if to focus his attention somewhere else. He’s nervous.

“And the way I reacted when I heard you two talk earlier? I just freaked out, I guess. I was just so…”

Scared. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the word hangs heavy.

“It’s not every day you learn your best friend loves you back, right?” A small laugh leaves his lips, “I never thought it’d happen, but now that it is… I don’t know.”

“I’m not easy, you know that. And I don’t want to lose you over what-ifs.”

The weight of his words settles in the silence that follows, and it’s your crude response that shatters the stillness.

“You’re fucking stupid, Satoru.” Your words resonate harshly, but it has to be said. Because yes, you also considered the possibility this might not work out. You pondered over the question for hours on end, spent restless nights convincing yourself you shouldn’t act on it in fear you might lose your most precious friend as a result.

Yet, the accumulation of secrets has inflicted more damage to your relationship than the actual attempt to explore something new. And you’re tired of hiding between lies and excuses.

Satoru’s eyes widen, lips parting in protest, but you press on, not allowing him time to interject.

“You’re stupid if you think things won’t change. Because flash news, Satoru, they will!”

“But you’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.” You exhale. “But is that all you want me to be?” You ask. “Tell me it is and I’ll stop chasing after you like some fool. I’ll pretend this conversation never happened, and everything will go back to normal. I promise you.”

“You know I can’t do that.” He admits, voice soft. His eyes sparkle with an unknown motion, and you can’t avert your gaze. “I just didn’t want to complicate things.”

“And what if I like complicated?” You respond with pursed lips.

Your eyes lock, and he knows he won’t be able to change your mind. And just like that, you’ve won him over a second time.

“Alright.” He whispers. “Then let’s complicate them.”

You find yourselves back at your apartment before you can blink.

You can’t keep your hands off of each other, and he keeps leaning in to plant small kisses on your lips for every little step you take.

It’s annoying, yet… Yet you don’t want him to stop.

You’re not usually that cheesy, but when it comes to him? You don’t think you know who you are anymore. You don’t care. He makes your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, and your ears redden from the way he simply looks at you.

He’s your favorite color. Your favorite melody.

He’s light in the darkness, blinding you with the twinkle of his eyes and the gleam of his smile. He shines so brightly it burns you, scorching you whole when his skin touches yours, fingers groping at your flesh and tugging at your clothes. Your hands pull on his roots as you deepen the kiss he initiated, the shy little sounds he tries to hold back like music to your ears. You want this moment to never end, to be the last person he’ll ever touch like this, to be the only one to ever elicit such sweet sounds from him.

The taste of him lingers on your tongue as you part, and you feel like you’ve gone utterly insane. You’ve gone mad because his lips are like liquor and you’re drunk on them, the sole prospect of continuing your life without ever being able to taste them again making your heart ache.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t even notice you started tearing up until he gently tilts your head to the side, holding your chin so tenderly as he kisses your cheeks through the tears, his lips occasionally ghosting over your skin.

You should feel shame for showing Satoru your tears in a moment so intimate, yet you don’t feel anything akin to it, at all. He’s your best friend. He’s never let you feel like you had to be ashamed of your emotions, and that will never change. He knows you need this, that those tears are the result of months and months of accumulated frustration just exploding out of you.

“Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, eyes pleading. Regret is plaguing his mind. He never wanted to be the person who would make you cry.

“Yeah, how? You have a lot to make up for.”

He hums, his head nestled in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your throat, “It’s up to you.” He whispers. “I’ll do everything you need me to.”

So? How should he make it up to you?

Sweet and soft, please!

No? ... Oh, you're dirty.

rbs are much appreciated <3

#✿yas. writes!!!#jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #TAOPYBF

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

Text

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter One

Summary: Life didn't turn out the way you wanted. You got the guy, and the job but everything else you had ever wanted has been crumbling around you. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: yändere, manipulation, domestic violence, self harm, cheating, explicit language, hints at smut, angst, idk what else lol a/n: Ahh thank you so much for all of the love so far on the intro and even all the notes on the masterlist hehe. I'm really loving the direction this story is going in so I hope you guys will too! And thanks again to @kkusadmirer for the request!

Opening my laptop I pull up the most recent edit I had done on the next chapter I was working on.

I'm a writer, not an incredibly famous one but a writer nonetheless. I make enough to get by and I'm able to work from home so that's all I ever really wanted. Just a silly girl, writing her silly stories, living her silly life.

But unfortunately things don't always turn out the way you want them to.

I thought I had it all, perfect grades and a perfect boyfriend with a loving family and a bright bright future. Now looking back at it all and seeing all of the stuff in the background that I somehow missed just makes me feel foolish.

How could I not notice Taehyung wondering eye? Why did I not listen to what my friends used to say about him? Why did I leave all of my friends behind for him?

Being so wrapped up and so in love with him I didn't even notice the fact that my family was falling apart. My mom cheated on my dad and I never knew until they told me they were getting a divorce.

While my brother was struggling in high school while being around all of their screaming and fighting and finally got committed to a mental institution when he had a psychotic break.

I never knew anything about that. It's not like I didn't care, but I just never really reached out or gave them enough time to reach out to me.

I was always like 'Oh Tae just got home I have to go' or 'Tae is expecting me so I need to get going'. My world has revolved around him for so long that my family and friends feel like strangers.

How could I have been so stupid and neglected them, all for one guy?

The one that I wanted to build a future with and promised to do the same with me. Now here I am, 24 with student loans up to my neck and a sorry excuse for a marriage with a husband that is never home.

I don't know what I managed to do in my past life that ended up royally fucking me up in this one but I'm sorry. Why couldn't I have done better so I would be saved from having my spirit broken and my heart ripped to shreds.

The only positive thing is that this has given me is the inspiration to come up with an even more fucked up series of books that has been my only source of income for the past few years.

Years, wow.

Thinking about how much time has passed and how things went to shit so quickly helped me continue down this downward spiral and I don't know how to make it stop. Although the sound of keys jingling outside the front door is my rude awakening, my brain knowing I need to be conscious of what may happen next.

I quickly wipe off the tears that I didn't even realized had started to fall and clear my throat. Moments later I'm met with the sight of Taehyung walking in wearing the same shirt I had seen him in yesterday but sports a brand new hickey near the collar, just barely noticeable but he makes no effort to hide it.

"Y/n" I hear him call out, breaking me out of my train of thought. "Yes?" I question, hating that I've been caught off guard even though I was staring right at him. "I asked if we have anything to eat" he says, making his way over to the refrigerator, now going to see if he can answer his own question before I'm even given another second to speak up.

"Um yeah I think there's some left over pizza from last night" I say and get up to walk towards him. "So how was work yesterday?" I ask tentatively, still not sure what kind of mood he's in. "Exhausting but it is what it is I guess" he says while stuffing his face full of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza.

I turn to walk away while nodding my head, not bothering to ask anything else since it seems from his vague answers that he's not in the mood to talk.

"Hey" he says, gently grabbing my wrist with the hand that wasn't occupied with the pizza, leaving me frozen in place. I know better than to walk away from him. Even if he's not mad at the moment doesn't mean that he won't be in the next.

"Where are you running off to?" he asks pulling me close by that same wrist. Still doing so carefully but pressing on the bruises that he had left there from the last fight we had.

He sees my slight look of discomfort and how my vision is trained on the wrist he's still holding and rolls up my sleeve, taking a quick look and seeing the evidence of his past transgressions.

"It left a mark huh?" he says examining the spot further and then bringing it up to his face where he places a few featherlight kisses on it, making a flash of heat run through my system when he looks back up at me with those eyes.

Those bedroom eyes that never fail to put me in a trance. He lifts his hand up towards my face and I flinch not knowing what to expect and see him stopping for a second, surprised by my reaction.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me" he says and keeps going, hooking his finger on the collar of my turtleneck to pull it to the side, no doubt searching for other marks.

"There's marks here too. I guess it's a good thing you stay home. Don't want to have to make up excuses for those now would you?" he says tapping under my chin twice, a slight lilt in his tone, enjoying my clear discomfort in showing them to someone, even if it's the person that's caused them.

"What did you do today baby?" he asks, letting go of me and going back to grab a few other things out of the fridge to complete his meal. "Oh you know, just some writing" I say, trailing off and giving him the same answer that I've given him time and time again.

"You almost done with it?" he questions, only really asking so he knows when my next big payday will be.

I shake my head "No, not yet. I think I'm only about halfway though" I say, giving simple answers to his simple questions. "Well you better get it out soon. I bet your readers are dying to know what happens next" he says giving me a quick wink before taking everything he has in his hands and carrying it over to the couch.

"Do you think you could grab me a beer?" he asks, but I know it's more of a courtesy than anything phrasing it like I actually had an option. I respond with a quiet yeah and bring it over to him, placing it on the coffee table.

"Thanks babe" he says and grabs a ahold of my hand and angles his head up, clearly asking for a kiss to which I oblige. Again something I don't really have an option in doing. "I missed you" he says and rubs his nose against mine cutely, or at least it used to be cute. Now it just makes me sad thinking of all of those times when we were happy.

"Are you gonna watch the game with me?" this time giving me something that I actually have a choice in. "I think I've got some more writing I'd like to do" I say and he nods his head not even bothering to look at me or give me a verbal sign of acknowledgment before turning on said game and slumping back into the couch to watch.

I walk over to my desk that happens to unfortunately be in the living room so I'm forced to grab my headphones to drown out the sound so I can hopefully get another chapter or two in before I call it a night.

~~~~~~

"Baby" I hear him call for me through my headphones after some time, that's something that I've had to fine tune. Making sure I can hear him when he talks to me no matter what so it's one less thing I have to worry about him getting upset about.

I pull out my headphones and turn my attention towards him, half expecting him to ask me to get him a beer. "Yes?" I reply, waiting to see what he needs. "Come here" he says holding his hand out to me and spreading his legs, showing me where he wants me.

I get up and walk towards him, straddling him once I get close enough and putting my arms around his neck. "Hi" he says in a deep voice sending a shockwave through my nervous system. "Hi" I respond quietly, intimidated at the thought of what he might do next. "How was the game?" I ask tentatively, hoping for my own sake that there was a favorable result.

"We won" he says, mindlessly tracing his hands up and down my curves. "How's your book?" he asks leaning into my neck, placing kisses over the bruises he had noticed from before. "

It's going" I whisper, starting to feel breathless from his warm breath fanning the sensitive parts of my skin. "Ready for a break?" he asks, question laced with a mischievous tone. I hum in acknowledgment, tilting my head to the side so he can have his fun.

~~~~~~

"I'm gonna head out but I'll be back later" Taehyung says while getting dressed with me still laying there with only a sheet to cover my body. "You're leaving?" I question, knowing he just said that but hoping he'll give me some sort of explanation.

"The guys wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks to talk about the game. Get some rest okay? I'll be back in a few hours" he says planting a soft kiss on my lips and one on my forehead.

I nod as he pulls the comforter over me as well, starting to already to drift off to sleep. "Stay safe" I mumble and flip over to the other side to try and get more comfortable.

He looks down at me for a second and chuckles at my fucked out and sleepy state before walking out of our bedroom and soon I'm left with the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him.

Although this night was bittersweet I'm thankful that it ended up like this. He's not a selfish lover when it comes to sex so I'm always left sleepy and satisfied except for the times that he's more rough, rough is putting it lightly so I guess I should say when he's more violent.

I hate thinking about those nights and I refuse to let those dark thoughts cloud this physical euphoric feeling I have but I can't help but worry about what he might actually be going out to do.

Would having a drink with the guys really make him want to leave his naked and freshly fucked wife alone in his bed? I just don't get it. If he's already been with me tonight could there be a possibility that he would wake up in another woman's bed and leave me waking up alone again tomorrow?

There's no use worrying about it though. It's not like it hasn't happened before, but why do I always let it get to me? Yes he's my husband but our marriage isn't like other ones in anyway shape or form. I'm here when he wants or needs me and that's it. I'm not allowed to want or need him because I'm just left disappointed every single time.

He doesn't love me, he just loves what I can give him and I need to come to terms with that. But it's nights like these where he's gentle and whispers sweet nothings in my ear that make me second guess things.

Maybe he's changed? Maybe he's realized what actually matters? And maybe I'm just getting my hopes up. I can't keep lying to myself but I don't know what else to do. I feel alone most days but these little glimmers of hope are what keep me holding on and unfortunately that's all I have left.

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shadysadie · 1 year

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I’m still not over that final fight

I love children’s media, I always have and always will. Pretty much all I watch or read is aimed for children or young adults, I just think it’s more fun, more hopeful, and honestly more palatable for my neurodivergent brain.

But now that I am coming up on 30, I so rarely see characters that represent me as main characters anymore.

I love the protagonists as the kid I used to be, but I have just had to accept any character that represents me will be the mentor that will at best stand aside to let the kid characters flourish, and at worst die to be the inspiration for the kids to keep fighting. Pre-Owl House the only show I could watch with my kids where the mentor remained an active character was The Sarah Jane Adventures, but that had to get canceled because the lead actress actually did die. (RIP Lis Sladen, you absolute champion)

Then we get Eda Motherfucking Clawthorne

The Owl Lady

Iconic chronically ill queen.

Con-artist

Garbage thief

Public enemy number 1

Drinking her morning alcohol from her Thirty and Flirty mug

Giving no fucks about what society thinks of her

She plays the role of a mentor. She sees this lost, lonely kid and takes her in; teaches her, protects her, grows to love her as her own, but that is not the only role she plays. Her life is shaped by Luz and King, but it doesn’t revolve around them. She still has her own stuff going on.

From reconciling with her mom and sister to joining the BATTs and CATTs and her relationship with Raine, she is just as much of a main character as Luz and even when they are doing different things, Eda’s character growth is given just as much weight as Luz’s.

Even when we don’t see her throughout most of season 3, Luz’s love for her remains one of the driving forces of the story. And when we do see her she hasn’t been sitting idle, she’s still planning, she’s still moving forward, doing her best to save her home.

Then we get the final showdown which is traditionally just between the big bad and the young protagonist, occasionally a team of friends depending on the dynamics of the show, but this fight usually NEVER includes the mentor figure. But in the Owl House, you bet your ass Eda is going to be included.

Not only is she in the final battle, but she continues to play the role of the mentor, covering Luz’s back, guiding her hand, giving advice and encouragement. And they are having a blast! Both of them have the biggest smiles on their faces because they are just so happy to be alive and together.

Even after they get to the Heart and Luz has to face Belos one-on-one to pull him off, Eda, Raine, and King are there protecting her. They are in this together through and through. Because Eda is just as much of the main character as Luz. This is their story. And as promised in episode one, they stuck together.

#the owl house #Owl house #toh #watching and dreaming #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #the owl lady #the owl house finale #toh spoilers

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oxymorayuri · 2 months

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Hiii i read the acex reader i dont remember the title but its the one where she was the revolver?

I wanted to request more parts for it please BCS THE WAY U WRITE IT ITS SO CAPTIVATING I CANT

So yes thats all i wanted PLEASE DO CONSIDER 🙏

It will get me through my exams 😔🔫

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part two

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, suggestive content ✦ Spoiler: none

A/N: Aw that is so cute! You know what? Why not? I really fell in love with the revolver too. I had to think of something to continue it but see for yourself, I hope you like it sweetie. PS: I hope everything goes well with your studies <3

wordcount: 2488

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: wudus6

Everything before your eyes appears as if you're looking through a curtain. Time passes more slowly, every touch seems both intense and unreal, but you feel the desire.

There is nothing but desire... the thirst for more.

Light as a feather, you feel as if you are not even in control of your body. But that's not a problem. You enjoy every second, no matter how blurred everything seems to you.

Perhaps because you know that it is nothing more than just a desire. Your movements are rhythmic and you try to intensify the feeling with every thrust, but there are limits to how much you can feel.

Your options are small but you are grateful for what is in front of you.

You can dimly see the lust shining in Ace's eyes, while barely feeling his hands on your hips as they guide you into bliss. Your mind is constantly shifting between lucid yet dazed and one moment you are riding him while the next his lips are caressing yours.

Full of pleasure you close your eyes, your voice says 'more' but you don't feel your lips moving and although your eyes are closed, it gets brighter and brighter behind your eyelids…

You groan in annoyance as you pull the covers over your head. Damn that sucks. This isn't the first dream you've had about Ace, but it's never been as intense as this one.

You cannot escape the images of the things that happened between you and you keep dreaming about that night on the beach. A whole week has passed since then and you and Ace are far from what you could have become and whose fault is it?

Yep, yours.

The angry wiggle in bed gets you nowhere, but you are so annoyed by the situation that you have to let it out.

After your fit of rage, you look up at the ceiling of your room in defeat. Slight dark circles adorn your face because it takes half an eternity for your brain to finally shut up. You don't even want to think about Ace and when you are surrounded by complete silence, his face automatically appears before your eyes. You've spent a few nights tossing and turning in your bed because every time you close your eyes you see him. No matter how tired you were, you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

You tousle your hair. Your ego is so big that you would rather die than approach Ace.

You wonder why you reacted the way you did. After your night, you woke up alone in your room and even though you didn't expect him to be lying next to you, you wished for it.

Loneliness engulfed you and as lonely as you felt, the more you didn't want him to get near you. You felt so available and that's a pretty strange feeling for you… Would it have been different if you had woken up next to him?

You'll never know.

As usual you gave him the cold shoulder but this time you had an additional reason... but somehow you feel a bit childish about it now.

Your thoughts are spinning around. What is your reason anyway? The answer seems to secretly pile up inside you and that makes you nervous.

Should you really have reacted like this? You haven't said a single word to each other. Okay, you haven't said a single word to him… At least he tried, you have to give him that, but after 3 days he had given up. He just leaves you alone and doesn't even get on your "nerves" like before. Nothing nada

Somewhat sadly, you pull your knees towards you and put your head down. You can only blame yourself.

You idiot!

If it wasn't for Jozu, you would probably never have come out of your cabin. He actually managed to get you out of the room.

Well, he more or less dragged you out. He just barged into your room, came up to you without saying a word and grabbed you by the neck. You noticed him, but you didn't have the strength in your bones to really react.

Somewhat belatedly you grab him by his bulky arm but every attempt is in vain and when you realized, that he wanted to leave your room with you, all alarm bells rang in your head.

Like a wild animal, you tried to escape from his grip but no matter how much you scratched him or how hard you hissed, he wouldn't budge. You feisty thing. Without paying the slightest attention to you, he brought you onto the deck and although you were brought here rather roughly, he set you down on the ground with care.

"Touch me like that again and…!!!!!" You are caught off guard when your mouth is suddenly covered with tape; you hadn't expected that. You can only grumble in anger and your eyebrows furrow up furiously as you look up at your commander.

"Hah your stare can't do anything to me you stupid ass!" He makes fun of you while he ties your arms and legs and you have no chance to resist.

The big man took a step back as he watched you wobble pathetically back and forth. You try to free yourself because you are beginning to feel that you are in a critical situation.

Your strength returns and the ropes loosen. Jozu doesn't hesitate any longer and immediately ties you up completely from head to toe, which looks ridiculous. Like a mummy, with only your head free, he leaned you against the ship's mast.

From behind you, you hear Ace apparently going through something similar as you and suddenly he is thrown to the ground in front of you by Marco. He wasn't set down as gently as you were, and with a pained look he rubs his cheek, which has just kissed the ground.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Confused, he looks at the men in front of him who just look down at him with stern expressions and folded arms. Jozu's eyes wandered over to you and Ace's eyes followed his. With shock written all over his face, he looked at you with widened eyes.

Without commenting, he looked back at the two commanders and then Marco broke the silence.

"What have you done Ace." Marco's voice seemed a little threatening. Astonishment spread across Ace's face.

"ME?" Startled, he pointed his own finger at his chest. "I have done NOTHING!" He defends himself with a slightly raised voice.

You want to laugh out loud but the tape stops you.

"I don't know what happened between you, but one thing is clear and that is that the two of you have something to sort out!" Jozu lays out the facts.

"You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you're constantly setting yourself on fire and even if it doesn't hurt you, it's affecting the people around you." His gaze went to you as he noticed your muffled laughter. "And you? We don't even need to talk about you, y/n. But let me refresh your memory. First you shouted at Ace, then you didn't say a word to ANYONE and then you didn't come out of your room for two whole DAYS!!!" The commander breathes in and out, somewhat exhausted.

You weren't even aware that you were behaving outrageously, but now that Jozu has reminded you, you can't deny it. Ace is bothering you and you are bothering him.

Marco touches his forehead, somewhat distraught.

"Listen, if Newgate gets wind of this, he'll talk to you… is that what you want?!" You both shake your heads in panic at the same time.

"I thought so." - "Ace, you were last with y/n that night and she's been so nasty ever since. Did something happen between you?" Jozu interjects.

He exhales a little helplessly and drops his shoulders.

"hahhh, I don't know… I thought we had a good time but the next day everything was different than I thought and that's why I wanted to talk to her to find out what I did wrong!" He turns to you and for the first time you see a look on his face that you never expected to see. He looks angry with a hint of confusion.

"But SHE doesn't want to talk!" he points his finger at you like a child. Offended, you grimace. Luckily, the tape is stuck to your lips because no matter what you would have said, it wouldn't have made any sense anyway. You're so irrational that you don't even recognize yourself.

The two standing men looked at each other and nodded. You and Ace don't quite understand what's happening now, but you'll find out soon enough.

Marco grabbed Ace by the shoulder and led him ahead of him. Ace doesn't really resist and starts to move. When Jozu approached you, you didn't want to leave the stage without a fight. You tried to move like a worm to escape from your commander and even though he admires your efforts, there's no point in trying to escape, because you're just as fast as a worm - not at all. Jozu has an easy time with you and throws you over his shoulder.

The two of them threw you into a prison cell made of sea stone and before they locked the cell, Jozu freed you from your full body bondage. You are glad that your mouth is free again because now you can finally let out all the bad words you have left for Jozu.

"You son of a bitch! Just wait until I'm out of here, then you'll be given a bloody surprise… I'm telling you!"

But you idiot threw yourself against the bars to grab the big man, forgetting that the bars are made of sea stone and that you now have the power of a devil fruit that you still have to get used to.

The energy sapping feeling in your body is sudden, overwhelming and slowly you go down to the ground.

While the men walk away from the cell, Marco shouts something back to you.

"You stay in there until you've sorted this out!" Grinding your teeth, you roll onto your back with the last ounce of your strength and close your eyes.

If I can't see him, then he's not there...

Yeah, exactly, that will work… You don't really believe that, do you?

"Hey… I'll leave you alone if you want, but the others are right. We take it out on the others and that's not okay. We're a crew…" The word crew makes you open your eyes without wanting to.

You sigh in annoyance and roll onto your side so that Ace can stare at your back.

"Yea, maybe. Leave me alone." Your stubbornness is driving Ace crazy, but he doesn't really want you to be like this with each other. Above all, he wants to know why you're like this to him. What did he do wrong?

He's been racking his brains for days about what he could have done or said that upset you so much. He wants to make things better if you would let him.

"If you're not going to talk to me, at least take the bed. Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good." You have no idea what kind of cheap trick that is. Is he trying to get you to sleep in a bed with him? You look back towards the bed but Ace isn't there. He's sitting next to the bed with his back against the wall.

Unexpectedly, disappointment spreads through you. Wait a minute? Is that what you secretly wanted?

A little confused, you stand up and stop in front of Ace, who looks up at you. His unkempt hair falls back slightly as he looks up at you. How you would like to swallow your pride and fall into his arms, but you have no idea where to start. You don't know what to say because you don't even quite understand what is wrong with you. So you say nothing and stare at him with tired eyes as he sits in front of you with one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.

Ace doesn't quite know how to react, but he's not one to do nothing.

He stands up just a few centimeters away from you and now you are the one looking up at him.

His gaze scans your face for answers that you can't even give yourself.

"What have I done?" he whispers to you. His pained voice tears apart your heart. You didn't know Ace could sound so vulnerable.

"I…, I don't know." you mumble your words, but your gaze remains fixed on Ace.

You have no further answer for Ace and walk towards the bed and lie down with your back to him again.

"Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good…" You repeat Ace's words back to him, feeling less pathetic since he said it first.

You listen closely as you can make out the sound of his feet approaching the bed. His shadow falls on the wall, which you stare at, waiting to see what comes next.

You feel the mattress go down a little and you automatically hold your breath until you can hear your heartbeat.

Ace looks down at your slender figure. His eyes wander over your delicate curves. He would love to stroke your hips until you fall asleep, but he's not sure how far he can go without making a mistake... but he has a feeling that doing nothing would be a mistake too.

He decides to lie down with his chest against your back. Lying on his back doesn't really work, there wouldn't be enough room and back to back would be awkward. He really makes an effort not to touch you unnecessarily. He's already glad that you offered him the bed.

You try to calm down, but Ace's breathing gives you goose bumps on the back of your neck. You pinch your eyes shut and try to concentrate on Ace's warmth, hoping you'll be able to fall asleep soon.

Luckily for you, you quickly find your way to the land of dreams because with Ace behind you, one could say; he's no longer buzzing around in your head...

Masterlist

Stay tuned for the next Part babes <3

➽ Next chapter

#one piece #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one shot ace #ace one piece #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace one piece #ace x you

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ficjoelispunk · 5 months

Note

Hi Emyyy! ❤️

I’m completely obsessed with Be my Assistant, I’m a ghost reader most of the time, but I make a point of saying that this story is amazing, looking forward to the next chapters.

I also saw that your Requests are open, and I thought if you could write something about Joel being extremely protective... just an idea…

OMG! Thank youuuu. 🥹 Be my Assistant, It means a lot to me... I’m glad you’ve liked it.

And, sure I can write for you, it be a pleasure <3

I’ll take care of you

"She never looked nice, she looked like art. And art wasn't supposed to be nice, it was supposed to make you feel something."

Summary: You needed to solve a situation that put you in trouble, your salvation was always around you and you never realized, you would never expect your salvation to come from it.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. Reader.

Wordcount: 6.4k

Warnings: Physical aggressions, canon, protective Joel.

Oneshot

A/N: Just to remind you that English is not my first language, so I apologize for the grammatical errors.

One of the few clandestine bars in the QZ was crowded tonight. Crowded bar in a QZ wouldn't be new, it's not like having a lot of programming on a night locked up in QZ. But it was clandestine because, you know, alcohol and the current situation of humanity awakens the worst of the human being, it’s difficult to maintain order when you have alcohol involved. So, FEDRA decided that ending leisure would be easier than monitoring.

You've never been here. You was accompanied by one of the teachers who teaching in the FEDRA school together with you, Denise, she was also your friend, or at least the person with whom you had the most contact here. And particularly, you was feeling so ridiculous for being here. But apparently that was the only way. Your only salvation.

When you live in an extreme environment. It seems that your whole mind revolves around extreme attitudes. God had already forgotten about you for a long time, you had been stuck in this place for 18 years.

It wasn’t as if before you had already gone through a training on how to survive the apocalypse, just as they did when the fire alarm roong in the school hallway sometimes for training. You were completely useless, if it wasn't for your brain. So, yes, you were stuck here, because it was a safe place.

It wasn't like you wanted to live in this world either. But you were here, you stayed for some reason then, it made sense to continue living one day at a time.

"It's the one who is leaning against the wall at the back of the bar"

You heard Denise's coordinates, but waited a moment to turn around and look. Unfortunately, the man was already staring at you. A burning cold radiated through your stomach as if you were losing the floor. You looked away quickly.

Ok. It's now or never.

You took a deep breath, taking the first step towards the man. Deviating from the people who crowded the unhealthy establishment. He was tall, his arms strong crossed, placing more emphasis on his imponence. The expression not at all friendly. His forehead formed a wrinkle between his eyebrows, which made his expression harder. The dark eyes, as if I could kill just with the look.

Your heart was racing, if it weren't for the music, and the buzz of the conversations, you could say that the sound of your heartbeat could be heard miles away. Nervousness, anxiety took over your body, your hands were sweating.

The man stared at you without even blinking. When you were close enough to him, you spoke.

"You're Joel, right?"

He studied you. Running his eyes through your body, without answering. He looked over your head, being silent, squeezing his arms more in front of his body. You wondered if you had spoken too quietly, and he hadn't listened to you. Or if he was really choosing to ignore you.

"Okay..." you hummed, looking at the side "sorry, that was a mistake" you turned around, to make your way back.

A man bumped into you. Joel pulled your body close to his, carefully, just in an attempt to avoid the shock between you and the man.

"Be careful where you walk" he growled at the man, who didn't even have the trouble to apologize.

***

Joel had seen you walking through the QZ before. The first thing that crossed his mind was, how God - if He existed - had the courage to leave someone like you, here, in this world forgotten by Him?

You walked so lightly that it was possible to believe that your feet didn't even touch the ground. Your features were delicate, gentle eyes. So soft. You were like a breeze in a field of flowers in the spring. Always stacking books in your arms. Walking as if no one could see you.

But Joel saw you. Not only did him see, how inevitably, him automatically blamed himself for thinking about putting his hands on you, feeling the softness of your skin, holding your hair, resting his lips on your neck, feeling your smell, your body on his, your warmth. For imagining how good you would feel with him. How good he could be for you, how he would do everything he could for you to stay that way, exactly like that, as if the fucking world wasn't over yet.

And now see you here, in this bar, in the underworld of the apocalypse, your angelic figure in a stupid summer dress, highlighting the soft of your breasts, your hair stuck behind your head, letting the rest loose fall on your shoulders, shit! What was the angelic creature doing here, in the middle of this hell?! What did you do walking towards him? Looking at him as if you were in pain... The things he would be willing to do to get you out of the middle of this dirt... take you away from this worm den.

Your voice was so sweet, that he could be selfish and ask you to repeat, just for him to listen to you once again.

"What do you want?" His voice was deep and hoarse, carried by the accent.

You turned your body to face him, while Joel held your arm balancing you so that you stood up again. As soon as he made sure you were balanced, he moved his hands away from your arm. And goddammit... your skin was as soft as he imagined it could be, it was a sin for him to touch something like you. You were so close to him that he could smell a lavender smell that exhaled from you.

You held your index finger, scratching your cuticle. Avoiding looking at him. It was almost painful not to be able to look you in the eye. He tried not to watch you so much, so as not to look like a crazy man.

"I heard you have pills, I need one"

Joel raised an eyebrow, looking at you again. Why did you need pills? You didn't do the kind of girl who used drugs, or who needed controlled medicines. You looked healthy, so healthy that it was offensive someone so healthy in the middle of this shit.

"What kind?"

"The kind that makes someone sleep. Sleep without the risk of waking up"

***

This man didn't even look at you. He seemed to be hating you with all his strength. Shit! You had never done that before, you didn't know how to do it.

Now his eyebrows were united. Maybe you didn't express yourself right.

You shook your head.

"Not for the person to die. It's not that" even though it would be exactly that "it's the dosage, the dose needs to be strong" you tried to explain.

He looked away from you again, straightening himself on the wall. It was as if he was disappointed that he had to deal with a person like you. Who doesn't even know what you needs, or what you wants to buy. A perfect idiot, who is making him waste time.

"How many?" He asked.

"How many do you have"

He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"I'll deliver it to you in two days, after the turn"

You blinked a few times.

"Okay," you nodded, "where?"

"I'll find you"

***

You are a simple woman. So simple that sometimes the feeling is lowered to useless. You're not good with weapons, you know almost nothing about how to survive outside. Never - not even when you were in high school - got involved in a fight, in fact you were excellent at being invisible. Going unnoticed was your specialty.

Your tastes revolved around art, history, philosophy, music, cinema and books. No manual work, no engineering, no medicine, nothing that was really worth it now in this scenario.

But eventually, after the QZ was well established, you got a job at the FEDRA school, as an Arts teacher. That was your routine, teaching children and adolescents, what was art. Have you ever imagined a world without art? And an apocalypse with art? Yeah, none of these scenarios were positive. It was not an easy job, in fact this was the farthest from being something "risky" you came close to in your entire life. Teaching art to children in an apocalyse, it was like telling a terminal patient, to believe in a miracle.

Life for you passed in a quiet and tedious way. The only time you subjected yourself to something - in your opinion - absurd, was when you learned that one of the smugglers were selling a copy of Pride and Prejudice for 10 cards. It was the best.

Assimilating all this to cowardice is not that bad now, is it? You criticized yourself for not knowing how to defend yourself. For not knowing what to do in a risky situation. And now, more than ever.

Mainly because, approximately 6 months ago, a new battalion of FEDRA soldiers were reassigned to this QZ. One afternoon, Denise introduced you to her new boyfriend, who was accompanied by another man.

"Nice to meet you" you said shaking hands with your friend's boyfriend.

"The pleasure is mine. This is Maxwell"

The other man reached out to you. You gave in to the handshake, which he immediately pulled to his lips to press a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Nice to meet you, beautiful" he said.

The eyes running through you, as if you were a piece of meat.

Immediately your alerts were turned on, the discomfort ran through your veins flooding your body with an unconscious repulsion.

"I don't like him" you tell to Denise.

"Stop being paranoid, he's a gentleman, and his salary is great"

You made a face at her, who smiled ignoring your disgust.

Since then, you have practically run away from this Maxwell.

"Hey, Teach!"

The voice you try to avoid, entered through your ears and wrapped your stomach at the same moment.

You looked away from the book to the door of your classroom. Maxwell had his hand over the gun he paraded through the corridors, and a petulant smile stamped on his face.

"Can I help you with something?"

He came approaching your table, until he was in front of you.

"Actually, I’d like to make an invitation"

You sighed. Closing your book, keeping it in your bag, and getting up.

"Go ahead" you smiled embarrassedly.

"My turn ends now at 6 p.m., I thought I could accompany you to your house, who knows, eat something, I have some cards..."

Your eyes ran to the clock at the back of the room. 17:50.

"Sorry, Maxwell, I actually already have other plans, maybe another time?!"

You nodded to him, taking the first steps towards the door. But even before your hands could put your bag on your shoulder, your back hits the board hard, behind you.

Maxwell held your throat, while pressing his body on yours. His face so close to yours, just being separated by the beret flap of the FEDRA uniform he wearing.

"Do you think you can fool me? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Please, just..."

“Huh?”

He pushed you harder, squeezing his fingers more around your neck.

"You don't have any fucking plans, I follow you every night and you make the same route every day! Every time Denise invited you to dinner, you said there was an appointment, but you were at home..."

You were running out of air.

"What the fuck..." a third voice caught your attention.

The squeeze loosened, and you slipped down the wall, with your hands in your throat trying to relieve the pressure that settled there, coughing with the oxygen invading your lung.

Maxwell looked at the girl standing at the door, with her eyes snapping and her mouth open in shock by the scene she was witnessing.

"Ellie..." you tried to say, while straightening the posture.

The soldier walked towards her, but you held his arm.

"No. She's my student," you said with your hands on his chest, pushing him back, "it's all right"

"If you open your mouth" he growled on your face leaning over you "I disappear with you. You know that an art teacher will not be missed by anyone"

Since then, this bastard has been blackmailing you in every possible and impossible way.

Ellie was the only student really interested in your classes, she was interested in the techniques in paintings, the books you presented, you developed an affection for this girl, you would not be able to let something happen to her. Never.

And out of fear, an unreal fear that this man ended up implanting in your brain, you have been giving him more than half of your cards, with the thought that the cards will keep his hands to himself.

For a while, this worked, but now, he was bored. And he was furiously after you. The only way out you could think of was to disappear with him, before he disappears with you. That was the bravest act your brain could think of.

You would be ready, you would dope him and then kill him. And now you were waiting for the damn pills, to put your plan into action.

Your brain was so overwhelmed by despair and panic, that this was the best solution you thought of.

That was it, you just had to put up with two more days. Get out of class, and go straight home, as soon as possible, before Maxwell's turn is over, lock all the locks, push your closet on the door, and wait until the next day.

Your thoughts were aligned and you knew exactly what to do. You had passed by the library to take an anatomy book home, and study the possibilities of where exactly you should cut, so as not to make so much mess.

It would have to be like this, because you couldn't run away from the QZ, you couldn't report it, you would die. You would have to kill him, because it was the only solution. FEDRA soldiers die every single day. They wouldn't give importance to one more. Right?

Your feet made their way home automatically, practically running, while your mind rambling about the murder you planned. When a squeeze in your arm pulled you into an alley, lifting you off the ground, making you stumble on your own feet.

Your eyes snapmed with fear. It was Maxwell.

"Let me go" you knocked, uselessly, on the arm that pulled you. It was as if you were staping a wall, he didn't even seem to feel it. "Leave me alone"

"Your little shit" he murmured words over his shoulder, as he dragged you into the dark alley.

"Stay way from me"

He pushed you to a wall, damp, behind some containers of garbage and rubble.

His arm over your neck, leaving you breathless. His eyes looked like a hungry animal ready to devour his prey. While his hands slid harshly through your body, lifting your blouse.

"Let me go, you disgusting" you tried to push him, hyperventilating.

Would it be like that? Would you be raped here, in this place?

"You're a little beauty, I bet you must be all wet for me"

In a sudden movement, he turned you with your back to him, pushing your head on the wall, holding one of your arms against your back. You got dizzy, feeling the point that hit the throbbing wall on your forehead.

You were so disgusted, so scared, that your body disconnected from you, and you couldn’t order your brain to coordinate your movements to fight Maxwell, it was as if you were totally empty of strength. Incapable.

“That’s right, don’t fight, I don’t like to have a lot of work when you fight, but if you want, it will be more interesting...”

Maxwell squeezed your ass, before pressing his body on you.

"Stop, please," you murmured.

"Hey!" A deep voice echoed in the alley.

Maxwell, he moved away from you a little.

"Go away, man, I won't share this with anyone," he licked your ear.

You whimpered.

"Let her go" the voice was closer, you couldn't identify in the dark.

“I'm going to finish it quickly, man, you can keep her later, you'd better get out of here before you find problems"

"I told you to let her go" the man pushed Maxwell's shoulder.

He let you go.

Soon after, you heard the sound of a punch. You tried to concentrate, turning your body to see what was happening.

Maxwell was on the ground, trying to get up.

"Okay, man, you can get her first then"

Before Maxwell got up, the man kicked his stomach, keeping him on the floor, going over Maxwell, throwing several punches in his face.

The man raised Maxwell off the ground, holding his vest.

"Yeah, you piece a shit, I'm get her, but first I'll make sure you never look at her again"

He gave it one last punch. Releasing Maxwell's soft body on the floor.

He turned to you. Growling. Blood-red hands.

It was Joel. The smuggler you met last night.

Your eyes were snapping, you didn't know what to do, your whole body was shaking, you were hyperventilating. With your hands on your knee, trying to support your soft body.

Joel walked to you slowly with his hands trembling up.

"Are you okay?"

You got up, crossing your arms around your body. Looking at the disfigured soldier fallen on the ground, behind you.

Joel shook his head.

"Don't look at him, look at me"

Your eyes obeyed as if it were automatic. Joel's expression had changed drastically from a beast to a worried and cautious man.

He reached out his hand gently to touch your chin, turning your head to the side to look at you.

"Maybe you need stitches" the low and calm tone.

You frowned.

In the midst of all this chaos, you didn't even feel the hot blood running down your face.

Your hands went against the throbbing point on your head, pressing your fingers there, feeling the wet and viscous texture, bringing it to the front of your face to examine. Blood. A lot of blood.

"I can't..." you murmured, looking down, and back, as if you were looking for people who might be watching you "I can't go to the medical center, they'll want to know what happened, they'll know..."

Joel frowned, highlighting that expression mark that falls right in the middle of his eyebrows.

"You're losing a lot of blood" he said, without ever letting go of your face, his eyes examining you, his free hand reached a scarf in his jeans pocket, pressing the fabric on your wound.

Your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling the air through your teeth.

"We need to get out of here" Joel looked back quickly towards Maxwell's unconscious body, turning his eyes to you "I can take care of it, if you want, you won't be safe in your house, anyway"

It took you a while, feeling the small pressures he made with the fabric in your wound. But you nodded to him.

"Hold it like this, for me" he directed his hand to hold the handkerchief pressed on your forehead "can you walk?"

He walked away from you looking at you, looking for some more injury.

You nodded.

He wore the usual frown, one of his hands pressing the middle of your back, as he walked next to you.

Usually walking the streets was normal, no one wanted to look at your face. Today, on the other hand, there wasn't a person who didn't look at you. Joel, in turn, shot with his eyes every single person who took the look at you for more than 5 seconds, causing some to even cross the street.

You accompanied him to - where you assumed you were - to his house. He supported your elbows, helping you climb the stairs.

The apartment was not much different from everyone at QZ. But his was more disorganized. A small radio station - illegal inside the QZ - on the table, maps scattered on the sofá wear out. Empty glasses on the coffee table. Some windows blocked with wood. A layer of dust on all the furniture and especially on the floor. A yellow light was what made the environment a little more cozy, perhaps.

He pulled a chair for you to sit down.

Joel moved quickly through the small space, reaching from one of the cabinets, a first aid box - probably also the result of something illegal - pulling a chair in front of you.

***

Joel was not going to deny that he already imagined you here, in this apartment with him, but he never imagined you here in a situation like this.

Seeing your face bathed in blood was something that made his body boil. Your perfect face, now it would be forever marked by a scar, to remind you of that horrible day you are going through.

If only he could keep you by his side, he could guarantee that no one would ever touch you again.

***

"Have you ever taken stitches?" He asked, while taking some materials out of the first aid box. His voice was something comforting.

You shook your head, still holding the handkerchief over the wound on your forehead. Everything was happening so fast.

He separated a needle, thread and a whiskey on the table.

His hand reached yours, carefully moving the handkerchief from your forehead. The contrasting movement with the touch of his rough fingers, and the calloused hand.

"Let me see” he murmured, approaching your face, studying the wound.

You looked down.

"Okay, teach..."

"Don't call me that" you cut him off.

He walked away from you a little, to look at you.

Your eyes found his.

"Sorry" you looked down again "it's that..."

"All right, I got it" he pulled the chair closer to you, the inside of his legs touched your knees, he held your chin again "it's going to hurt, a lot, I have nothing to anesthetize, so I need you to be strong" He stared at you "do exactly what I say, can you do that?"

You nodded.

"Talk to me, I need you to talk to me, sweetheart"

You swallowed it dry. Looking at him.

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I can do that"

He nodded to you, reaching for a glass, and serving a shot of whiskey, and delivering it to you.

"Drink it"

You obeyed, turning the shot. The liquid coming down hot, burning in your stomach.

He threw some of the same whiskey on another piece of fabric, looking at you.

"Ready?"

"Yes, I am"

He pressed the wet tissue with whiskey on the wound. The burning seemed to run all over your face. You frowned. Squeezing your fingers on your leg.

He took a pocket knife out of one of his jeans pockets, and gave it to you.

You held it. Doing things automatically.

"Now, I need you to talk to me, okay? Stay awake. If you are going to delete it, tell me first"

"Ok"

"Good" he reached the line and the needle "bites it" he raised your hand that held the pocket knife.

It was wrapped in a leather holster, made especially for the pocket knife. You frowned. Joel bowed his head with disapproval.

You put the holster between your teeth. Your breathing is getting a little faster.

“Three stitches, it’s what you need,” he said before getting closer, with a needle “ready”?

“Ready”

You don’t know how to say exactly what he was doing, but you felt the flesh being pierced, a colossal pain taking over your head. You stuck your teeth in the leather, with an afflicted growl, squeezing your fingers on the flesh of your leg. The eyes closing tight. It looked like you were going to explode.

"Don't move," he said with his face so close to you that you could feel his breathing on you.

You wanted to cry, scream. Tell him to stop, that it was all right if you ran out of a piece of your forehead. Just stop. It hurt too much. Tears were running from your face, but you couldn't tell if they were tears or sweat. Probably both.

"You're doing well, very well" he took a short break.

You felt his hands holding your left wrist.

"Give it to me" Joel brought your hand to his leg "I can handle it" he moved your other hand too.

You didn't even realize how much you were squeezing your own leg. But you received a slight relief.

Your breathing was trembling. He certainly continued, without warning, because once again the absurd pain of the flesh being pierced took over your senses. It was too much. You didn't spare Joel's leg, squeezing as much as you bit the pocket knife holster. Crying. Fighting against your own body so as not to move.

"Just one more" he said, "you're doing well"

There were no explanations or definitions for this moment. You simply had your whole body contracted, taken by the pain in such a way that nothing but the injury to your forehead existed in you. You couldn't even tell if you were breathing. The pain was so much that you could swear that your whole body was the wound. Your body started to tingle. Your senses were no longer responding.

You spit out the holster.

"Joel..."

You leaned on his leg.

"No, no, no..." he murmured "stay with me, you're doing well, stay with me, sweetheart, we're almost done"

You tried to focus on his voice. That beautiful and deep voice.

"You can do it, sweetheart, I know you can do it, just one more"

"Joel..."

Once again the pain radiated through your head.

You don't remember how, or when, it ended. But you woke up in a bed. Your head throbbing, your hands went up to press your eyes, in a useless hope of warding off that acute pain.

"Hey!" A whisper next to you, time you snap your eyes, jumping on an involuntary scare "calm down, easy, it's me, it's me" Joel's hands held your shoulders, gently.

Your eyes found his, tender and careful, you close your eyes and rest your head on the pillow again.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, releasing the grip on your shoulders.

"Pain"

He smiles.

"Yes, I know, here"

You open your eyes, he has two pills in the palm of his hand, extended in front of you. You frown, your eyes dance between the pills and his face.

"It's for pain, and to avoid infection. Take it"

You hesitate, but take it. Your fingers slipping the skin from the palm of his hand. You lean on your elbow, putting the pills in your mouth, Joel promptly gives you a glass of water.

There was a moment of silence, the day had not yet cleared up, it was night, probably at dawn. He didn't seem to have slept, sitting in a chair next to the bed.

"For what did you want the pills? That night?" He leans against the chair that was sitting, holding the empty glass you gave him back.

You look at him.

"Did you get it?"

He nods.

"Yeah"

You look away, staring at your impatient fingers that remove the cuticle chips from the corners of your nails.

"I don't have any cards here now for you..."

"What did you want them for?"

You look at him, swallowing it dry, hesitant.

"I..." you look away "I was going..."

You close your eyes, laying your head on the pillow again, shaking your head.

"Tell me" Joel leans in the chair, placing his arms on his knees.

You look at him for a moment, but you couldn't say that by looking at him. Your fingers press your eyes again.

"I was going to use them with him. I would dope him, and then kill him"

You take a while to open your eyes, after Joel's silence, you get curious, to know how he is looking at you now.

Joel didn't seem surprised by your idea, it didn't even seem to judge you. He seemed worried.

"Why? Is he bothering you?"

You nodded.

"How?" Joel clenched his fists.

You frowned. You grabbed your hands close to your face, and shrunk your legs. How if you shrink your body, as much as you could, would make you disappear, and next to you all this shame you felt.

"Tell me" he murmured softly, encouraging you.

"You don't have to bother..."

"I want to"

Joel extended his arm, so that his hands could move away a lock of hair that was on your face. So soft. So careful.

"Maxwell came transferred from some other QZ" you started "an acquaintance who works with me at school, introduced him and another friend, who is now her boyfriend" you felt stupid telling this story "since then he has been calling me out, but I always invent something..." you hesitated, holding your knees close to your chest "one day he cornered me in the classroom, there was a girl... a student who saw, I was afraid of him trying to do something with her, and since then he has been blackmailing me, and..."

You closed your eyes, shook your head, trying to move away from your mind.

"And?" Joel encouraged, he put one of his hands on your calf, trying to comfort you.

"He has been taking a good part of my cards, and I knew that would not be enough, that at some point this would happen... and I wanted to be prepared"

Joel nodded, his eyes fixed on you, the crease between his eyebrows deepened.

***

It didn't get into his head like another man could find himself entitled to attack you. Chase you.

He needed to have a lot of self-control to be able to hear your story until the end, without getting up from that chair and going directly to this Maxwell and hitting a bullet right in the middle of his eyes.

But no, dying is something easy. It ends easy. Living is difficult. And Joel would make sure that the last minutes of this man's life were the worst of his life.

You were right to think about killing him. Maxwell wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. And he wanted you. In all its innocence and fragility. Now, after Joel broke his face, he would certainly take revenge, hitting you, which was the easiest target, because, obviously, he was cowardly enough to blame you instead of solving things with Joel.

Joel wouldn't let you submit to this dirty work to win your peace again.

***

You sat down, Joel walked away a little giving you space. Your fingers pressed your face, while you got up, slowly.

"Where are you going?" Joel was right behind you.

You turned to him. Much taller than you.

"I need to go, I have classes to teach, and they can't be suspicious..."

He took a step in front of you, packing your face with one hand, while analyzing the bandage he had made.

"How are you going to explain that?"

His hot hand was so comforting, you fought against the urge to rest your head on his hand.

You shrugged.

"I fell"

He sighed. Deep.

"Thank you, for..." you pointed a finger at your head "I'm going to pay for the medicines and also..."

"If I were to charge you, you would have already paid"

You arched your eyebrows, and nodded to him.

Your morning passed with you having to explain how clumsy you were and ended up hitting your head when you slipped into your own apartment.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Ellie asked after class.

"No... I fell"

Ellie shook her head in disapproval.

"You need to report this son of a bitch"

"Ellie, I fell, okay? Everything is fine. And don't use this language in my classroom"

Ellie was disappointed in you, you knew.

"Pay attention to lesson number 2 when you go to do the activity, I'll see you next week" you said before she left the room.

You spent the day worried about the possibility of someone entering your classroom, to take you stuck or disappear with you after what happened yesterday.

To your surprise Denise entered your room near the end of the day. The eyes snaps, the face taken by a panic.

"Did you hear about it?" She asked as soon as she closed the door behind her.

You weren't good with lies. But you tried to set up your best face by surprise.

"No, what?"

She stopped in front of your desk.

"Maxwell" she said a little tired.

You arched your eyebrows. Okay, you knew, he was probably disfigured after last night's punches.

Denise frowned.

"What happened to you?" She pointed at your forehead.

You shook your head.

"I fell..."

She nodded, processing the information.

"Okay, then get ready" she said leaning over your table "Maxwell was found today in the late afternoon"

You arched your eyebrows.

"Dead" she concluded.

Now you didn't have to pretend surprise, because you were really surprised, the beating he took was serious, but not to the point of him dying.

"And there's more..." Denise continued.

You could feel the blood from your face being drained to anywhere other than your body.

"He was found with his cock cut off, and inside his own mouth"

You leaned against your chair. Your hands covering your mouth. Your eyes lost in nothing.

"Do they already know who did that?”

Would it be possible? Joel, would you have been able to do that? Did he do that?

"FEDRA is investigating, they won't leave it aside, kill a soldier like this?!"

“Maybe it could have been a firefly thing”

"No... Jared" - her boyfriend - "said this was premeditated, it was someone who really wanted Maxwell dead"

You were silent.

"Don't you know anything?" Denise was speculating.

You looked at Denise.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you were always together..."

"What?" Were you surprised by her assumption "together? We never even want to go out..."

"What did you want with that smuggler that night?"

You got up, gathering your things quickly, putting everything you could glimpse being important inside the bag.

"Sorry, I have to go" you murmured as you left the room.

"Wait!" Denise shouted "Jesus..."

You ran to your house, for no apparent reason, you just ran. Ignoring your throbbing head with every impact his feet made on the ground. You just wanted to be at home, in silence, to be able to process all things. If Denise, was wanting to link Maxwell's death to you - rightly so - what would FEDRA do?

As soon as you entered your apartment, you can't help but drag the shelf to the door. Even if Maxwell was dead. Supposedly.

You took a long shower, trying to wash away this whole crazy story. You wore a comfortable outfit. He made some tea. Trying to ignore the fact that his head was in latent flames.

Someone knocked on your door. Would it be Denise? She used to come without warning. Would it be Maxwell? Resurrected from the dead? Coming to torment you? The stunned soul coming to charge you for your murderous thoughts? Would it be FEDRA, to arrest you?

"It's me. Joel"

You stood still for a while. Looking at the closet in front of your door.

Until your brain remembers how to order the movements, and your legs move slowly, taking a break for you to leave your cup on the kitchen table, before dragging the cabinet from the door, and unlocking the braids from the door.

You opened the door. Joel was leaning on the side of the door. You faced each other for a moment.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

You blinked a few times. Opening the door more for him.

He came in, looking at the closet that he certainly heard you drag before you opened the door to him.

"You need to take another dose of the pills I gave you this morning" he watched your apartment "and you need to change the bandage"

You nodded to him.

He pointed to your chair, pulling one for him.

You sat down. Joel sat in front of you. You took your eyes on him today. He was a handsome man. The slightly gray hair, the eyes although almost always hard, were now attentive and careful.

He took off your bandage.

"You need to always keep it clean," he said, "it won't infect, it's good," he made an observation to himself.

He redid your bandage.

He took two pills from the pocket of his shirt.

"Take it, it's for pain and infections"

You took it, drinking immediately, with tea that was in your cup. Praying that the effect would be quick, and the pain would pass.

"Thank you," you murmured "for… everything"

He nodded. Looking at you.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked.

"Doing what?"

"Helping me... you defended me from Maxwell, then took me to your house, took care of my wound... why? These things don't seem to be things you usually do out there..."

Joel tilted his head to the side.

"What do I look like I'm doing over there?"

You smiled, looking away.

"I don't know” you shrugged “I thought you were someone bad, aggressive, I didn't expect to receive your help, in fact, you are very kind..."

"Only with you"

You look at each other for another moment, the silence hovering over you. You wanted to thank him, do something for him... You got up, going to one of your drawers, and removing a number of cards.

Joel shook his head before you even got to him.

"Take it, please..." you held it for him.

"I don't want to"

"Please, I don't know how to thank you"

He got up. Holding your hands together with your cards. His big hands, covering up yours. You observe the injuries of his hands. Your eyes meet his. Comfortably in silence. Joel looked at you deeply.

You expected him to say something, but contrary to that, he let go of your hand, kindly, walking towards the door.

"Joel?"

He turned to you.

"Yes"

"They found Maxwell's body this afternoon"

He nodded.

"FEDRA is investigating the cause of death"

He was silent.

You took a step towards him.

"Joel?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Was it you?" You looked at him carefully, you didn't want him to feel judged.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Joel seemed to feel pain when saying these words.

You walked to him, held his injured hands.

"No... I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of them"

Joel held your chin, smiled.

"Had the wound clean" he advises.

You nodded.

He turned around to leave. Stopping before, next to your closet.

"Sweetheart, you don't need it anymore," he pointed to the closet, "you're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll take care of you"

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so-many-sainz · 1 year

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i saw u wanna continue the storyline 😏😏 pierre being petty and subtweeting and then lando defending his girl as he should!! i LOVED ur latest update so much it hurts

Unbothered — lando norris

social media au

lando norris x yn

this is the continuation of STAY MAD (alternative of WE BROKE UP BTW and WE BACK)

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

A MONTH LATER...

landonorris added to their story

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yninstagram to mr and mrs norris ❤️🥂🥂

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maxfrewtrell photocreds missy 🤨

ynsbff OH STUNNING

landonorris bunny 🤤🤤❤️

revolve omg hi queen

l4ndoslove monkey x bunny 😩😩 my turn when 😩😩

TWO WEEKS LATER... race week.

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landonorris Yes babyyyyyy! P3 🧡🍾 Tough race but we pulled through, lets keep pushing!

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yninstagram that's hot 😎🧡

landonorris on my way for our double celebration

carlossainz55 🍾🍾❤️

landolandi4 amazing race babyyyy!!!

ynsbrother LFGOOOOOO 🤙🏻🤙🏻🤙🏻

skysports will we get decent answers now that you're celebrating?

landonorris stop asking stupid questions if you don't want stupid answers

↪ teamclaren43 the amount of personal questions you got today is embarrassing

yninstagram added to their story

Liked by ynsbrother and 1.539.929 others

landonorris my beautiful girlfriend graduated this week. YN, I'm so excited to share with you this new chapter, stressing study nights in random hotel rooms are over bunny, you did it! You make me so proud, love you lots.

Sincerely,

Your monkey.

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olivernorris1 get drunk sis @yninstagram

danielricciardo how much for a therapy session, dr @yninstagram? congratulations loveeeee

isahernaez 😍😍😍😍

f1daddies the high school sweethearts vibes these two have is overwhelming 🤧🥺💖

mcloony she's got the looks, the brains and a fine asf man.......

letsgol4ndo she's so lucky

↪ landonorris i'm the lucky one

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yninstagram yessssss graduation time!!!

I'm done with sleeplessness nights, all I got left is to thanks my incredible friends who were there for me every single time I needed a helpful hand, my family that supported me unconditionally and my amazing monkey who laughed with me during the crazy days and believed in me even when I didn't. Love you all.

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yninstagram I'M FREE WORST FUCKING EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE LET'S GET DRUNK

ynsbff yikes

paulgasly congratulations yn! we love you

charles_leclerc so proud of you my friendddd, lmk when I can schedule an appointment ❤️

ynsbrother fucking finally!!!!! 🤪❤️

team10gasly no way

yukierrex he's back

↪️ team10gasly after what happened last weekend.....

↪️lovescarlando that's what happen when you live in the past friendssss

↪️yukierrex bitch it was a couple of months ago stfu

END OF THE SEASON

Liked by charles_leclerc and 78.294

yninstagram desert dump 🤓🐪 ft. a very nice mclaren car

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landowners hello God it's me

carlossainz55 very nice earrings 🤓

yninstagram yes! Isa is so good in graduation presents 😋😋😋

↪ carlossainz55 🙄

savnorris1 💖

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lando.jpg end of the season by me 📸

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yninstagram love you baby 💖

mclaren 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

maxfrewtrell excuse me?????

landonorris ok some of those were taken by max

#lando norris instagram edit #lando norris x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb

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excarow · 1 month

Text

so I've just binged Sk8 and it's left me wondering what would happen in season two.

Now this is gonna be a bit of a long one, so buckle in.

If we are to get a season two (and I'm definitely not holding my breath) what would be the end goal? Season one was very much Defeat Adam (after Langa learned to skate, and kind of learned to love again), and honestly I think the premise of season two would be similar; defeat the opponent (it is a shounen after all). HOWEVER, I do think there should be a secondary goal:

Reki wins a race.

throughout all of season 1 Reki never wins a race. Hell, Reki never wins anything, which is very strange as he's one of the protagonists. We see he loves skating, he's hardworking and honestly pretty good but we never see any of that rewarded. We almost see him turn into a supporting character for Langa, even as the story continues to revolve around him (not in a bad way, but more in a contrast way)

So honestly, I think Reki deserves a win, and not a win based on luck (like how the weather helped him in his race with Adam) but purely on his hard work.

and how would this work? Easy; training parallels with Joe and Cherry.

If you were to look at them, Reki seems to take after Joe (loud, brash, lovingly stupid) and Langa takes after Cherry (quiet, doesn't show off as much, doesn't want a spotlight) and while you can say that for personalities, for their skating style its the opposite story.

Joe and Cherry are the opposite dynamics of Brawn vs Brains (a tried and true trope) while Langa and Reki are Talent vs Hard-work.

Joe uses his body more, his power and instincts when he skates which is very similar to Langa, who uses he prior 15 years of snowboarding knowledge to shape how he skates. (that and i think he's a prodigy? Don't know if that's true or not)

Cherry on the other hand uses intellect and sharp precision. Which is like how Reiki uses his knowledge on building skate boards to make a board that adapts to Langa's snowboarding style and why he changed his wheels in his race with Adam. (Reki builds skateboards as a job, there is so much potential in that)

so for a hypothetical season 2 it would be nice to see this sort of training dynamic where we see Reki grow confidence in himself and it would be really nice to see he and Langa finally kiss skate together as true equals

ok rant over, sorry the moment i see any kind of opposite dynamics and character parallels i go feral

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 reki #sk8 langa #sk8 cherry #sk8 joe #ramble #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #LET MY BOY WIN SOMETHING #ALSO THIS DIDNT FIT IN BUT REMINDER THAT LANGA HAS BEEN BOARDING FOR 15 YEARS WHILE REKI ONLY HAS FOR LIKE 8 #SO HE NEEDS TO STOP BEATING HIMSELF UP #I LOVE HIM A NORMAL AMOUNT GUYS #I DEFINITELY DONT SEE MYSELF IN HIM #also the relationship parallels would go so fucking hard

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glacierclear · 11 months

Text

im sorry i need to dump all my thoughts about ada x leon somewhere for personal fulfillment reasons,

big disclaimer: resident evil canon/lore is inconsistent and my feelings/thoughts on all this is NOT me stating it as fact. It's 99% speculation and me interpreting context. I'm just having fun!

it's really wild that i started my resident evil experience hating Ada. I did not understand her character and the way she's portrayed is very inconsistent and confusing (probably on purpose) and, like many others, I assumed the choices she made and the pain she inflicted on others was malicious and intentional.

But something clicked recently,,,I understand now that she didn't choose this life. She doesn't WANT to be a spy. She doesn't WANT to be a mercenary. Everything she was and everything she had was taken and stripped from her. She doesn't even have a real name anymore. I think seeing the small insight of her backstory in the biohazard manga really put all the pieces together and brain blasted me with understanding. Her entire character (to me, at least!) revolves around survival and self-preservation. She is a SELFISH character, not because of ego or power, but because of a LACK of power. She no longer has autonomy over her life in a way that matters and so the only thing left for her is to stay alive.

And I just think that ties so beautifully with Leon's struggles. Both of them being forced into this life where they have to live and die at the hands of the people who control them. And, listen...listen...it's overdramatic as fuck and a VERY idealistic/romanticized interpretation of their relationship, but honestly it makes me hella emotional thinking about Leon potentially being one of the few things in life Ada wants to live for other than herself. Him being the only person in the entire series who has ever shown her genuine, selfless kindness and care,,, and the fact that her circumstance and the trappings of her life forced her to betray him and she has to live with that guilt and has to come to terms with the fact that she will never genuinely connect with people because who even is she anymore? She has no sense of self.

And her entire campaign in RE6 resonates me in such a weirdly poignant and impactful way. RE6 has some WONKED UP writing and it's so silly and stupid; but I think if it was tweaked a little bit it would be a genuinely moving story about a woman losing her agency and bodily autonomy to a violent man who wants to own her and her fighting with his fabricated, demented vision of her. It's a manifestation of his greed and possession...and then she kills her clone and immediately after she sees Leon again and his first immediate instinct is to protect her and sacrifice himself again for her and throw himself into MORE bullets for her even after the betrayal of RE2 ........ and then after that she finally snaps and FINALLY chooses to fight for HER morals and HER justice by killing Simmons' bioweapon.

Like, listen, I hate the trope of "woman traumatized being saved by a man" in most cases, but something about the way I see Leon and Ada just makes SENSE man.

The fact that she specifically goes out of her way COUNTLESS times to protect him and save him and none of it is enough to get him to forgive her. None of it will ever be enough but she keeps trying anyways. Like, damn, his entire mission is Spain is only possible because Ada saved his ass like...four times??? And you can make reasonable arguments that she doesn't care about him he's only important for her mission, and to be honest I think that interpretation is also valid, but for me personally I just think she cares about him so much but it's in his best interest to continue believing she doesn't care.

And I just want them to be happy. But it will probably never work out between them, just due to everything...they can't escape their lives. They're both kept alive by two opposing morality systems. Leon's guilt and unyielding need to fight for truth and innocence and to protect everyone he's lost and everyone who depends on him. And Ada to hold onto herself and what whittling remains of self-identity and independence she still has when it was all taken from her, even to the point of someone making a damn clone out of her.

Man I just love them so much I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!

#shut up glacier

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dreamfaerye · 23 days

Note

Friendly reminder Bran Stark said: “Rhaegar didn’t kidnap my aunt or rape her. He loved her. And she loved him."

So continue stanning lame elia, it just makes you look like a dumbass who wouldn't know a lovestory if it bit you

Friendly reminder that quote is from the show, not canon.

Also friendly reminder, whatever happened between rhaegar and lyanna has nothing to do with being a fan of Elia. I know you got rocks for brains and can't comprehend that everything doesn't revolve around your ship but pls try. Side note: if you consider that a 'love story' with no critical thinking, I suggest therapy. Or in your case, a long walk off a very short pier.

Lastly, if you wanna talk shit, take your punk ass off anon. Say that shit with your whole chest.

#punk ass bitch #anon #elia martell #fandom bullshit #asoiaf

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klbwriting · 4 months

Text

Broken Prism

Chapter 14

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Toddxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some violence

Summary: Jason wakes up

Notes: so I got another pretty nasty anon ask about this story, I deleted it because I didn't want that kind of negativity again, but I want to thank all of you who have liked, replied, or reblogged this fic and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Jason woke up to the familiar sight of his room at the League of Assassins stronghold. He sat up and stretched, feeling bones creak and muscles relax after a night on the uncomfortable cot. He grabbed his clothes and dressed, going to find Ras for his assignment. He greeted no one as he walked to the head’s office, and no one greeted him. In fact, he noticed that anyone he passed he immediately forgot their face as he went. This was strange but he ignored that and knocked on the door. Ras called him in and gave him a list of targets in Gotham City. Jason nodded and bowed before leaving and getting on the private jet of the League.

Upon arrival he looked at the first names on the list. Catherine and Willis Todd. Those names were familiar, but he ignored that and went to the address listed. It was just an apartment, they were already in the living room, sitting on the couch watching TV. When he came in they didn’t say anything, the woman looked almost dead already, eyes gazing unfocused at the screen and the man just grunted. He was confused. They didn’t have any crimes he knew of, and the woman had his eyes. He heard Ras’s voice telling him that he needed to kill them, for him. They held him back. But they were his parents. He ignored this thought and shot the woman in the heart, the man in the head, placing the revolver he used in the man’s hand. Murder suicide, easy to cover up. Jason left the way he came in, forgetting about them as soon as he was on the street again. Strange.

The second pair of names sparked more recognition, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson. His…brothers? Well, no not brothers. Dick had forgotten him, and Tim replaced him. Not brothers, traitors. He could feel Ras urging him on as he approached Wayne mansion. He had the key and walked in, going into a familiar living room. Tim and Drake were on the couch waiting, TV on. This time the TV was big enough to see what they were watching. Some action movie with fake Batman, Nightwing, and Robin, they were fighting someone in a red helmet. Stupid. Jason looked at them, choosing this time to just shoot them both in the heart. Once that was done, he looked at the list again. Last name. Bruce Wayne.

He headed down to the Batcave, finding the playboy sitting at the large computer, watching something playing on the screen. It was like a home movie, on the grounds of Wayne manor, the basketball court. Bruce held a ball and was showing a younger Jason, around maybe 12, how to shoot it properly. Jason watched, not sure where the tears had come from, but they were rolling down his cheeks. Ras’s voice told him to stop that crying, that Bruce Wayne wasn’t his father, he had to kill him. He was a pretender, not a protector. Jason pushed all the warmth out of himself, walking up behind Bruce.

“You’ll always be my son Jason,” he heard the man murmur before Jason cut his throat. He turned and came face to face with the Joker, pulling off a Ras Al’Ghul mask.

“Didn’t think I would let you get away that easy did you little Jaybird?” he said before laughing. Jason covered his ears, that sound like an ice pick to his brain. Joker calmed after a time and held up the target list. “One more name.” YN, who was that? Jason took the list and Joker pointed to a door. Jason walked over and opened it.

She sat on her bed, reading a book called The Red Hood’s Soul. It made him sick to see that. Why would she care about his soul? Why would anyone care about him? She looked up and smiled at him, standing and moving towards him. He walked over, dagger ready. She saw it but didn’t stop smiling.

“Jason,” she said, and he stopped right in front of her. “I lov…” He felt a hand on his, the dagger sticking out of her chest, the hand holding his belonging to Joker.

“You just have to kill everyone you love before they can love you back don’t ya? Me too” the clown said before laughing.

“No…nonononononoNONONONO” Jason was screaming, looking at YN still standing there, still smiling at blood poured out of her.

“Jason, JASON!” he heard yelling and sat up, eyes suddenly open as the real world closed it. He was in a nice room, he old room at Wayne manor. He was soaked in sweat, shirtless, and surrounded. He growled and shoved away the person holding him, jumping up and off the bed, getting into a fighting stance before his mind cleared. Alfred was helping YN off the floor, Bruce, Dick, and Tim were watching him, even Barbara was there behind them. It had been a long time since he had seen her. She wasn’t in a wheelchair then. He shook himself.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. The others looked to YN and Jason did too, finally realizing he had shoved her to the ground. “YN? I’m, I’m sorry…” She looked like she had been crying, face red and eyes puffy. “Did I hurt you?” O God, what had he done.

“Jason I’m fine,” she said. She scrambled over the bed and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tight. Something in him broke at that moment and he knew he didn’t want anything like what that dream to actually happen. He wanted family again, desperately. He wanted YN, desperately. Why had he pushing that away? YN led him to the bed and motioned for him to sit. “Do you remember what happened?” He blinked a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs.

You had Jason sitting on the bed, you were still holding his hand, watching him trying to process what the last 24 hours. You had watched him the entire time he had been unconscious, sleeping bent over his chest, just making sure his heart was still beating. It had been terrifying, you were waiting for the gray to seep in, the only comfort you got was still seeing the color of his skin, his hair, his helmet as it sat on the side table. While he was under you had talked to Bruce who was a wreck.

“Its like I was too late again,” he said, sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed. “That night, when Joker…and Jason…I hadn’t felt grief like that since my parents died. What in your mind tells you that you should stay with him? I know he’s your soulmate, but you don’t have to be together, you could run. You wouldn’t be the first.” In that moment you realized that Bruce had found his soulmate, and they hadn’t stayed around. “How do you possibly deal with this kind of life?”

“Because I know what its like not having him in it, why see color when the person who sees it the same way as you isn’t there?” she said. “I’m sorry, about whoever they were, no everyone can handle this, but I assure you I can. I may not be Barbara or Bernard, I don’t have super smarts or martial arts training, but I’m not afraid to knife someone or shot them. I’m not a vigilante, but I’m enough for him, I hope, because he is more than enough for me, and I won’t let that go. I won’t let him go.”

“I don’t like what he’s become,” Bruce said. “I hate that he didn’t become more like me.”

“Well, honestly, what did you expect? You let Joker live, which I am angry at you about, and he’s your son, not you. You want a carbon copy of you, well you’ll have to get married, have a biological kid, go to a theater and let yourself get murdered when he is 10, and even then, that kid might go the opposite way and become another Joker,” you said. Bruce stared at you, and you were worried he was going to kick you out but then he actually laughed.

“God I am fucked up, aren’t I?” he said softly, more to himself. You just nodded. “When he wakes up do you think he will talk to me, a real talk?”

“Maybe, but you’re going to have to go easy on him for killing Ivy,” you said. Bruce nodded and looked at Jason and you saw in his face how much he was conflicted. He clearly loved Jason but was trying to come to terms with who he was now. You now hoped with Jason awake that they could work things out for the better.

“…and then I remember passing out in the back of the car,” Jason said, finishing explaining the incident with Ivy. Everyone looked from you to him, and you dared them to say anything about him killing Ivy at the moment. If they did, he would feel attacked at his weakest and bolt, they all knew that. Tim opened his mouth and Dick put his hand over it.

“You scared the shit out of us little bird,” Dick said. “Alfred said you need to rest for another day or two, you willing to do that here?” Jason was silent for a long time, then he looked at you as if asking your opinion. You smiled and nodded.

“Ya, I’ll stay here,” he said. “It’ll be weird though. And she has to be here too.” He nodded his head at you.

“What makes you think I want to stay here?” you asked, that little bit of anger you had at his disappearing act rearing up. He looked at you and swallowed.

“Perhaps we should allow Master Jason to get some rest and quality time with Miss YN,” Alfred said, shuffling everyone else out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Look, I know I fucked up by just vanishing but let me explain,” he said. You opened your mouth to argue, and he held a finger to your lips. “Please.” It was almost pleading so you took a breath and nodded.

“Alright, talk,” you said. He took your hands in his, staring at them like he couldn’t look you in the eye. You gently took his chin and made him look at you. He swallowed hard.

“After that night I went to fuck up a bank job Two-Face was doing. He had Joker with him. I heard that laugh, it still haunts me to this day, and I panicked, full blown attack that had me running to my parents’ apartment, Bruce bought it after they died for a safe house, anyway, and I was there for days, just spiraling. How could I face you? How could you expect me to be anything good for you, to you, when I can’t even be good for myself?” he said. You sighed and took his face in your hands.

“Jason, I’m recommending this with all the soulmate love I have in my heart for you, get therapy,” you said. “Listen, your family, in this house all have a therapist, ask them, get one, and then use them. And this may not be something you want to hear, but talk to Bruce, iron things out with him and Dick and even Tim.” He stared like he couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“Why?” he asked softly. “I only hurt them, I only hurt you.”

“Bullshit, everyone here loves you, you running away is what hurts. You need this family and they need you. I’m not even part of this family and I can see that,” you said. Jason shook his head.

“No, if I’m going to be part of it you are too, you’re my family most of all,” he said. You smiled and leaned to him, hugging him tight. He gripped you for dear life and breathed in your scent, letting it calm him.

“Now, I think you should lay down again and get some more rest,” you said, gently pushing him back to lay down. Jason relented, sliding under the covers before lifting them up. If he was going to rest he needed you with him. You smiled and climbed in, rolling so that your back pressed against his front.

“I missed you,” he said softly, voice already shrouded in sleep.

“I saved where you were in your book,” you answered. You felt him chuckle behind you.

“Thanks,” he slurred out before falling into sleep. You listened to his even breathing, feeling his arm around your waist, your body heat mingling with his until you too fell asleep.

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #brokenprism

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sketchysardine · 16 days

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Bodies

The re-homing from Meta inc. continues, with these quick anatomy-focused sketches of my original characters (I’ve been constantly writing and rewriting their stories for 12+ years 🥹). I wanted to depict common varieties of body habitus I’ve seen in myself and people I know irl. Mostly.

OC intros are under the cut, if you’re interested—

1. Tamara (she/her) is a doctor, newly graduated out of apprenticeship and looking forward to starting her own clinic with her school bestie. That is, before her childhood bestie’s mom gets kidnapped by the same people that killed hers, and they all have to go rescue her together.

2. Mira (she/they/experimenting with he) is a vigilante whose power of shapeshifting into animals is also a curse (the longer they stay shifted, the more animalistic characteristics they retain after shifting back). The golden eyes and odd patches of fur and feathers are a fixture at this point.

3. Aditya ‘Adi’ Padmaraja (he/him) is a prince who was born to write poetry and sketch flowers but forced to take up a sword and shield to rescue his mom. He’s Tamara’s childhood bestie. He’s ace. He knows people are thirsty for him but he really just wants to finish his coconut in peace.

4. Narmada (she/her) is the third consort of the elven high king. Having immigrated from the elven diaspora in the great subcontinent to their ancestral archipelago, she was once the captain of the royal guard. That is, before getting entangled with the royal polycule.

5. Alberon (he/him) is the elven high king, the realm’s beloved scatter-brained hedonist with a very carefully constructed heart of gold, an insatiable appetite and a revolving door of many, many lovers. Isidore (he/him) is the new ambassador from the continental elven diaspora to the archipelago. He��s a terribly incompetent diplomat and everyone suspects his election was rigged. But he’s a hyper-confident vintner and the most adorably awkward flirt, so that’s sexy enough for Alberon to ignore the blazing red flags for a little while. A little while, promise! He’ll be careful! This is all for research!!

#original character #fantasy art #oc art #original characters #digital art #digital illustration #artists on tumblr #artblr #art #sketchysardine art #cw nudity #tw nudity #sketchysardine ocs #sketchysardine’s humans #sketchysardine’s elves #ocs #important notes: the dilfs are actually dilfs. they are also smol (4’10 ish). they have cool tree magic.#they are both femmes. very genderqueer. femmes fatales; if you will #yes alberon is based on shakespeare’s oberon but the nonmonogamy is ethical + consensual + extremely negotiated here #he is not beating the slutty bisexual allegations. if you called him a slutty bisexual (derogatory) he’d think it was (affectionate)#and he is not a manipulative fucking asshole like Oberon #(he is not an asshole for now. he doesn’t have a manipulative bone in his body though.)#can you tell he’s my favorite #he is genuinely my morally ambiguous problem uncle

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threadsdemiseif · 2 months

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Made by @sapphirestones09

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS AUSGHSJSGDKSHSI

CRYING SHITTING SOBBING

TYSM FOR THE FANFIC, I AM FLOORED

Note: It took an embarrassingly long time to find the submission post. Cons of being tech averse. First fanfic? Yey? English isn’t exactly my first language, and some sentences may sound weird and also punctuations are my enemy. Was supposed to be just a drabble, just a take on the “The Incident” nothing too fancy. It was supposed to be straightforward and simple but then 2.7k words.

During this time the story didn’t even start and there are a lot of details that I may have missed, and plot points are not addressed directly. The fic maybe embarrassingly incorrect when it comes to the events and the interpretation of characters. I know…but I did it anyway.

This is just purely written with no certain Doctor MC in mind but gained inspiration by asking myself “What would a psychopath in “love” do in this situation?”

***

You have never been a romantic.

Although there are times that you convinced yourself you are.

People describe romance and love with words that when put together only sounded like ancient language to you. Foreign. Alien. You drowned yourself in poetry, art, songs, movies, books, you consumed all kinds of media you can get your filthy hands on that emphasizes that kind of ideas, all that work and yet the concept remained an enigma to you. Try as you might it seemed like there is a buffer in your brain causing the words to become static and incomprehensible. Like wisps of smoke and childhood bubbles that pass through your hands when you try to catch it.

People seemed to revolve themselves around it though, becoming the center of their worlds. You? You only saw yourself as an outsider when it comes to this subject. You witness the people you tolerate spinning themselves dizzy around it until they collapse, vomit, and destroy themselves in the process.

You like that. Not romance no, you like the aftermath of it. The chaos left in its wake that you can’t help but marvel. You are curious, intrigued, determined to understand the nature of it and see if you can truly bend it to your will.

How odd your interests are…

And so your experiments began, you engaged yourself for a time. The people around you were more than happy to, it’s a wonder how humans quickly drop to their knees at the sight of a pretty face. Never quite understanding the kind of wretchedness hidden beneath. You instantly learned the system, a smile there, a touch there, a wink, a reassurance, a kiss, a bite, and they are wrapped around your pretty finger.

It quickly got boring. Frustration building inside you. All this time and you still don’t understand it. Everyone says its fun, fulfilling, gratifying in a way that resembles the feeling of jumping from a skyscraper. It overcomes all types of high that you can get from pills and drugs. It’s exhilarating. Maddeningly so.

You want that. That type of feeling. You want to understand it and judge it. If it was truly as amazing as they said it is. If it was worth the wars that waged for it. The lives lost in the name of it.

You want to know the ruin. The hurt. The despair. The madness.

But alas, monsters can’t love, can they?

If that is so, then what is it that you are feeling now?

Why is it that when you look up to their face marred with insanity and tears, do you feel that your heart skip a beat. They look good with hate twisting their soft and gentle features. They look so adorable as their eyes become wet and red with tears and blood. They look so delightful when they sob and growl as they continue to bash your kneecaps.

You are supposed to be feeling pain.

There is a theory you read that when humans experience so much pain beyond their limits of tolerance the person does not feel it. Stimuli overriding the nerves and senses that the person just becomes so numb to it.

Maybe you crossed the threshold of it already as you just feel the lightheaded.

Does the theory even apply to you?

Afterall, you never even thought of yourself as one of them. You could always look beautiful enough. You could always mimic their behavior to the best. You could replicate the twinkle in their eyes and yet. There is always something wrong with you.

You’re only a mess of organs. A casket made of flesh. A jumble of limbs. All to contain nothing but raging madness. You feel it sometimes. Licking the part of your brain and whispers, tickling you with thoughts so vile you can’t even understand it half the time. But sometimes it screams and during those moments you contemplate bashing your head on a rock and watch as blood and brain viscera scatter like red fireworks.

But you don’t feel the madness right now. Pleasant numbness coating you in warmth and comfort.

You can’t really remember what happened that lead to this situation. Them above you, ramming a steel chair on your lower half. Did you even fight back? Did you injure them? Did you curse at them first or did they?

No, you don’t want to think about that, you just want to revel in this moment on how they look so lovely covered in your blood. Yours.

How beautifully tortured they look right now.

So beautiful as they look broken, so so broken by your hands.

You stare at them determined to commit the image to your memory. You will your synapses to work, embedding them to a part of your mind that not even the sickness would touch it.

They were supposed to be another pretty thing to play with. They were so cute and foolish enough to be swayed by your words and touch. Just like the rest, it was so so easy.

And yet here you are underneath them on the cold hard floor covered with your warm blood. Instead of defeat or rage, it is ecstasy that fills you. A sense of pride swells inside. This feeling so exhilarating, gratifying, making you giddy with the excitement.

Is this the love the people spoke about? Then you can understand it now, like puzzle pieces placing themselves until a sense of completion fills you.

You never felt like this before. So whole. So full.

For a moment you are not broken. You are not insane. You are not a disgusting mimicry of everything that is wrong with the world.

You want more. You need more. More...more…

More of what?

More of them.

Of their hate, their ruthlessness, their violence, their cruelty.

Give them all to me, Deziree…

I’ll take it all.

Give me everything that is wrong with you and I’ll kiss it, cherish it, nurture it.

Thank you for existing Deziree, now I don’t have to be alone.

Now, I have someone I can drag with me to the pits of hell.

A siren blares in the background. Shouts of composed terror echo outside. Loud enough to pierce through the cloud of your deliriousness. It seemed to have the same effect to Deziree too as their eyes began to shine with clarity. Horror, regret, disgust, quickly replacing the ferocity of their wrath.

No!

You will not this moment to be over yet! For the first time you felt your heart soar, you felt complete, a sense of belongingness together with them. You can’t let it be over so soon! You simply can’t.

Along with the clarity, the madness began to whisper again. Its tendrils crawling their way to consume any resemblance of sanity left from the previous moment. It offers a way to make the most out of the moment. A way to bind both of you for life. A perfect ending for this absolute freak show.

Your stomach tightens pleasantly. You felt your spine shiver in excitement. Electricity tingles down to your- oh you can’t feel your toes anymore. Nevermind.

Mustering up your strength, your bloodied hands reached over to their face.

Eyes on me.

Only me.

Their attention is now back to you. And you feel complete again.

Oh, how far have you fallen?

You give them a weak smile to which they reciprocate with a blank stare. Mind racing, rationalizing what just happened, remembering the moments that lead them here. Just how did things get this bad? The ever loving Deziree…

You can see them shivering, are they cold? You were the one who’s meant to be cold, considering the blood loss, you are certain you’re going to die if left to your own devices. Well, if that will be the end, why not have some fun.

Your hand slides down to their arms. Their muscles underneath taut with tension and through the stormy expression you can see as clear as day the gradient of emotions. Madness, rage, confusion, love, tenderness, all hues of suffering flicking from one to another. You could sit here all day and watch them in reverence.

They have never been more beautiful as they are now.

Your hands connect with theirs, your smile widening even bigger as your fingers intertwine. You’d be blushing like a fair maiden if it wasn’t for all blood gushing out of you. If your head would have been any clearer, you would question the absurdity of the situation, but its not. It’s filled with chemicals actively trying to keep you alive. The kind that makes you high in glee.

You would also have half the mind to check your own condition being on the brink of death. And you would remedy that immediately. You’re far too smart to be killed aren’t you?

But not this time.

There is nothing as important as you and him in this little corner of the world you marked with red.

His eyes track your movement with the accuracy of a hawk. Then finally, you place his hand around your throat. You’re now a willing prey, baring their most vulnerable to a bloodthirsty predator.

There was no need to wait, their hands immediately applied pressure on your neck. Their fingers that previously held warmth and care now ice cold and harsh. It squeezes your carotid veins, blocking your air until you feel yourself turn blue in seconds if it wasn’t for the blood loss. They grit their teeth even more as a small moan spilled from your lips. Did he take it as a sign of pleasure or pain? You would lick your lips if he could, but you could only manage a pained smile.

“Disgusting. Evil. Vile. Why?! I loved you! I trusted you! And you used me! Ruined me!” they sob.

There were no thoughts in your head. Not a whisper of regret or remorse. You are only staring at him, pupils blown at how beautiful he is under the alternating blues and reds from the window. You now choke and as survival instinct begins to kick in and you thrash. You dig your fingers into their wrists in an attempt to let you go.

You know this is futile and this can cause even more damage to your neck than it already has. But still your body moves in self-preservation. Your mind and body disagreeing in the most beautiful way. You are dying no doubt about that, but by the Gods do you feel so alive.

You feel the precious air being taken away from you. Your blood rushing to your head. Your life slipping away at their hands. It makes you appreciate these little things when you are on death’s door.

Your body begs them to stop, trying to pry away their hands, to push them away from you. You feel the heat of them against you. Your body screams for mercy. But you don’t and you will never want that now, don’t you?

Please don’t let go.

Please hold me.

Please kill me.

“You deserve this. I did nothing wrong! The world will be better without you. I hope you burn in hell,” they spat.

You wheeze as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The lack of oxygen and blood finally hitting you as you feel your consciousness ebb away.

A bang echoed the walls of the room from the door opening harshly, footsteps and harsh voices goes in. The weight on top of you was then pulled away, you whimpered at the loss. Practiced and efficient hands began to land on you to check on your condition and at the edge of your vision, see that they had restrained Deziree a few feet away from you.

Face planted on the red floor as they thrash against the restraints of police, their voice panicked but their bloodlust evident from the string of curses they release in your direction. The officers are successful in putting them in their place.

You are promptly carried away. The paramedics dons a concerned expression as they talk ensuring to keep your consciousness awake. You close your eyes only replying in tired hums. You don’t have to look at yourself to see that you’re all levels of bad for seasoned healers to panic.

And even though you can’t see, you feel the people’s righteous fury and sympathy for you like water. From the officers to your neighbors who watches from the sidelines parched and in need of some new gossip to talk about. You can already pinpoint their thoughts, their sadness, relief, worry at how such a young thing was already subjected to the cruelty of such a harsh world.

The human mind is truly such a wonder. People will determine who received the most injury, who is more sympathetic, unnecessary details that help them fuel their own beliefs. Twisting it to suit their own narratives. You can hear them talk words that will end up being printed by tomorrow’s newspaper. And that made you sneer in amusement inwardly.

Because they have never been so wrong than equate you to a pitiful little victim.

It was a good thing the old lady next door was fond of gossips. You made a show of yourself spilling your relationship problems acting all teary and vulnerable, not-so-subtly hinting that you may be in possible danger. So, when the crash and fight started you were sure they were the one who called the police on time.

The strangling part was seriously a last-minute plan, the blood loss making you all loopy and droopy. The police force has body cameras attached to them. Meaning that they have caught Deziree strangling a person on camera. A person who in addition, mutilated your legs you might need it amputated and end up a cripple for the rest of your life.

You shrug. You’re plenty resourceful. You can imagine the opportunity it presents.

Mutilation, strangulation, and the other deeds of Deziree will be revealed in the court. Even if they plead not guilty, the evidence will stack upon them one by one, drowning in proof that you orchestrated like an elaborate game of chess. There is such a thing we call as falsified truths.

Deziree will be hated, scrutinized, their entire being skinned and every part of him will be laid bare for others to see and judge. You mentally calculate and figured they’re going to prison for 10 years give or take. 10 years of living in hell that you personally decorated.

You can taste their pain already. Their expression falling at the verdict of the judge. People cursing their name both inside and outside the bars. And even when they are alone, they’ll never be rid of you. Making sure that their thoughts will always be haunted by the image of you. You only you. What a pretty mental cage you put them in.

There was no regret or remorse as you allowed yourself to smile.

Not one of pleasure nor pain.

It is simply a smile of victory.

Deziree came close, but it’s not enough. They’ll have to become stronger, smarter, better. You needed a drive, you needed them to improve to beat the game you have designed. They might go to prison but you’re far too smart from thinking this is all over. They’ll come back, you know they would.

You inflicted just the right amount of pain for them to persevere. Not too much that they would give up and think that this is all pointless. Not too little that they won’t grow from this. Every factor of this event, taken into account into your pretty little head, all for what?

For an elaborate game of course.

A game that will not begin until later. But you don’t worry, after all patience is truly a virtue especially in this sense. Even though you’re already achingly awaiting the moment.

The cards are dealt, the stakes are ready, and the table is prepared for all the players that will be involved.

You’re already buzzing with excitement. You wonder what they will become. What kind of monster have you created? What kind of chaos and destruction will they bring? How much will be left of you when they’re done? Or will there be any left?

How you long to see it already.

Them in their full potential to end you.

Ah, see, you can be a romantic after all.

#submission #thread's demise #li : deziree #Myrr Answers #the doctor #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #FANFIC

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