#you don't get to rank your work over someone else's

[roguishcat]

Snippet Monday

❤️Thank you very much for tagging me @ghost-of-a-dream-girl, @busy-baker and @xxnashiraxx! ❤️

This is something I've started working on for the 300 followers celebration for @pursuitseternal - a Magistrate Astarion x Reader one-shot where Astarion was never turned! Such a brilliant idea, thank you so much!

So, basically this has all the events of BG3 but Astarion is an elf. And the one-shot takes place post-game. So far, I think I have a general idea of what I'm going to write, so hopefully this is something along the lines of what you would like it to be!

The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.

You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.

Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.

You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!

Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.

Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor student a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"What do you think you are doing?"

It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.

"Excuse me?"

"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.

Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.

"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."

The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.

"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."

"I've hardly said any-"

"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.

"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.

Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.

"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."

"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?

"His Honor judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."

Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!

"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."

He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.

You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that he you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!

No pressure tags: @clazberryk, @inkymoonbunny,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae, @lanafofana, @marlowethebard,

@honeybee-bard, @fangbangerghoul

[rthwrms]

getting real heated about the art vs craft debate (cause its fucking stupid) it's all art. it's all craft. i think white men should be shot for sayign otherwise

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining the 141 looking for a medic because all of the ones they sign on keep dying or getting poached by other task forces. And you're a baby medic who is shadowing your higher rank and well esteemed teacher (who is actually the one on the 141's radar). But something goes horribly wrong...

You've done everything you possibly can but he's still drowning in his own blood.

He's tried walking you through everything through wheezing, wet breaths. He has a knowing look in his eye, this isn't working and it won't work. You're in the EVAC helicopter, but the time it'll take to get you back to base is too long.

"I-I'm sorry." You whimper, tears forming on your lashes. "I'm not a very good student."

Your mentor smiles sadly, his eyes glassy. He was always sweet to you when he was no nonsense with everyone else.

"You're doing great, kid." He huffs, blood leaking out the corner of his mouth. He winces and sputters up more but you're there. You try to fill up his vision and give him something to focus on. "People crash. Don't give up on 'em till it's over."

You cradle his head, memorize every wrinkle, scar, and patch on his kit. And then, it hits you.

He's right, its not over yet.

You rip through your medical supplies with shaking hands. It feels like it takes forever but it's merely seconds before you're sticking a needle from your vein into his. You watch the bag as it quickly fills with your blood before entering into him.

Your mentor chuckles and shakes his head weakly. This is nowhere near anything he taught you. But he knows it might just save his life since you're both the same blood type.

You go through multiple more needles releasing pressure on his lungs until he's even more stable than before. He finally has a shot and that's all that matters.

You're so close. Fifteen minutes out when he starts to crash again. You've exhausted everything. Your medical supplies are dwindling. You have no more blood to give. Your teacher just continues to smile at you. And he keeps smiling at you and he keeps smiling at you. You rub at his face, his eyes are far away. You feel for his pulse.

You scream.

It's not one of fear, but a deep, mournful cry. You turned your comms off forever ago but you know everyone could hear you, even through the wind. It carries your scream off and away as the heli's motors clip around you. You feel empty. He was supposed to teach you more. He was supposed to live.

You scream again and throw yourself over him. You sob and scream and grab at him, trying desperately to look for vitals. You know you won't find one but you're delirious. He's supposed to live! You did everything right!

Tears blur your vision but you notice someone out of the corner of your eye. It's one of the members of a different task force assigned to help your squad with this now terribly failed mission. He's their Captain, you think. He tries to reach down but you hiss at him. You don't care about rank. You don't care about the social ramifications. You scream to be heard over the wind.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

The man's eyes soften. You don't imagine what you look like. You probably look wild, feral, gnashing your teeth and growling. You don't care. He's YOUR teacher, he's YOUR responsibility. Quite frankly, you don't trust any of the other strangers watching you. You hiss at them too. Then you cry again.

You bury your face into your now dead mentor's chest and sob.

- - - - -

The look in your eye is like nothing he's ever seen before in a medic.

Price had watched you exhaust every possible avenue to save your superior's life. When all else failed you gave him your own blood. And when he finally succumbed to his injuries you threw yourself over him, not allowing anyone or anything to get close.

Even when they arrived on base, when your other superiors tired to swoop in, you stood your ground.

"I don't care! Even in death he's MY patient!" You yelled at your own Captain.

And surpisingly, they let you take care of him to the end. They even let you escort his body to the morgue. It's where Price finds you hours later.

You sit in a rusty old folding chair just outside the morgue doors. Your eyes are glazed over, far away, and still brimming with tears. He kneels in front of you to get on your level. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to finally see him. You blink slowly and look up at him.

"I-I'm sorry..." You apologize. "I d-didn't mean t-"

"It's alright, Love." He hums and offers you a tight smile. "I understand."

He pats your knee in a fatherly way before standing up. His knees pop and he winces. You immediately stand up, your eyes searching him up and down.

"S' alright, I promise. Just a lil' stiff s' all." He soothes. "I need you to come with me."

He notices how your pretty lil' eyes widen. He shakes his head and offers a hand to help you out of the chair.

"You're not n' any trouble, sweetheart. I just want to talk with you."

He looks down at you with a knowing, sweet smile.

Your commitment is exactly what he's looking for.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [3]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, barely proofread, a lot of awkward tension cause Neytiri and humans + reader being in conflict, terrible na'vi sentence.

Word count: 3,8k

previous chapter

next chapter

A superior of you recommended you to Norm, a human scientist in an avatar body that went against the RDA a decade ago. He lives close to the war, which means close to the Omatikaya. This means you were going to face your father, the man you really didn't want to see. It wasn't that big of a shock to you when you were told that you were going to the front lines. You were always preached about for being one of the best warriors, you saw it coming. Both Raja and Seb were also ranked as one of the best warriors among your group, so it was fortunate you could at least be close to your friends if you were to break down. Yet you weren't planning to do that. Deep inside you yearned for him, wanting to jump into his arms the moment you see him and call him daddy again, but another side of you told you to keep quiet about it. Let him figure it out on his own. Act like you don't care and show him what you became. Was it the mature way? No, definitely not. But you threw your childhood away to become a warrior, being childish every now and then shouldn't hurt too much. And I mean, they had your files. The information of you potentially being Jake Sully's kid was out in the open for the higher-ranked to see, so whether he was interested enough in getting to know his soon-to-be acquaintances or not, the choice of figuring out you are his babygirl is really up to Jake Sully himself. It's not like he would notice it by looking at your face, your mask wasn't see-through and covered half of your face. Besides that, you look different than what you looked like over a decade ago. So here you were, in this helicopter with Raja and Seb on your way to the Omatikaya clan, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Raja kept her grip on your forearm.

Jake Sully held his wife in his arms as he begged her to accept the help that is supposed to get to home tree soon. Norm already told him weeks ago that the resistance was coming soon. He didn't know what he meant, unaware of the things that were happening on earth. He was explained how earth was in an uproar, divided into three groups: with the RDA, against the RDA, or being neutral. Information was leaked about the RDA's doings, how they were sending humans to Pandora to kill the natives. History repeats itself. From killing their own kind centuries ago to killing a different species on a different planet. Norm told him how he was in contact with a huge resistance party on planet earth, one that was open for it to directly take action, how they wanted to send their trained warriors to Pandora to end the wrongdoings of mankind and keep the RDA away or any human that was a potential enemy to Pandora and its nature. Young warriors that just finished their training, choosing to fight for someone else's freedom rather than living a safe life on earth. Safe as in not getting attacked then, because planet earth is definitely dying. Jake could appreciate this selfless decision, whether some may be in it for the paycheck or just an act of kindness, all of them were there to help. He was hoping Neytiri could see it like this too, they were here to help fight against their own kind. Jake's pleading eyes couldn't make Neytiri decline, so with a loud hiss she agreed, "fine, but I'm coming with you. If they make one wrong move I'm going to pierce an arrow through their skulls, ma Jake." Her tone sounded annoyed, but she couldn't help but lean into his touch.

Even though Neytiri agreed to accept help from the sky demons, she was against the idea to bring those demons directly to high camp. It was that feeling all over again, when Jake betrayed her and the RDA came to destroy their past home, home tree. She was scared for her people, for her children. Jake could understand where she was coming from and agreed with Norm through his throat microphone to meet at the lab instead. His children were listening from afar and Tuk jumped out of their hiding spot, much to Neteyam's, Loak's and Kiri's dismay. "Are we going on an adventure?", giggles left her lips as she jumped towards her mother, her arms wrapping around her waist. Her chin was pressed against her mom's hip as she looked up at her with sparkles in her eyes. Kiri smacked herself against the forehead as their little sibling ran towards her parents. The three got out of their hiding spot, Neteyam walking in front as he was ready to confront his father, "sir I-" he started, but was immediately cut off as Jake spoke over his voice, "Neteyam I need you to come with your mom and me. We are retrieving guests, sky people. This will be part of your Olo'eyktan training." Jake's tone was fierce as he spoke to his son, treating his own blood as nothing but a warrior. Neteyam pursed his lips as he nodded his hand in response, "yes sir." was all he had left to say. Loak groaned as he felt left out of the situation. He wanted to go on an adventure too, and spend time with his father. "What about me? Why can't I come?" He didn't hide the disappointment in his tone as he asked his questions, mainly directing them to his father. "I need you to stay here and take care of Kiri and Tuk." Kiri then decided to chime in on the conversation, planning to get more information on the current situation, "what is this all about dad? They're going to help us, but what are they exactly?" Jake sighed in response as he brought his hand to his forehead. It was no use hiding anything, they would get to know the truth eventually. So he just decided to tell them everything he knew from Norm.

Everything comes to light after all.

Jake Sully prepared himself for their departure. Hunter's knife strapped to his hip and his throat microphone attached as always, in case Loak gets into trouble yet again. "Ma Jake? Are you ready soon? My mother would like to see you as well before we do." Neytiri called from outside their family pod. "Almost almost, I'll get to her tent soon." Jake was frantically looking around the pod as he spoke. He was looking for his good luck charm. Childish one may call it, but it made him feel at ease during these stressful times. There it lay, the thing he was looking for, under one of the woven carpets. He picked the round charm up, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he tried to open the lock. His heart pounded into his throat as he did so, struggling to open it because of his much bigger hands. He was delusional, scared to lose it. He breathed out when he came face to face with your cute baby face, all smiling and giggling. "Thank Eywa," he mumbled to himself and tied to chain to the handle of his knife. When Jake Sully opened the flap that separated the inside of the pod from the outside world he came face to face with Neytiri, "Mo'at wants to see me?" She responded with a nod as her head nodded to the healer's tent, "she wanted to speak to you, she told me." He wondered what that could be about. He wasn't injured or suffering from any illnesses, so what could have possibly happened? Jake Sully nodded his head before speaking up, "I still don't think it's a good idea that you come." Neytiri crossed her arms at his words, "Ma Jake, I need to see what kind of people are about to enter my clan." And with that, she walked away. A sigh left his lips since he knew things would not turn out too well. He stepped towards Mo'at's tent. Time to find out why she needed him, as he entered the tent Mo'at was supposed to be at. "Ah, Jake Sully. I was awaiting you." She motioned for him to come in and he followed her order. He awkwardly stood next to her as she busied herself with her herbs, "Eywa has spoken to me. It has to do with you, Jake Sully." His ears twitched in curiosity, motioning for her to continue speaking. "You are about to be in a huge conflict. Hearts will break and tears will stream. You mustn't give up as Eywa has spoken to me this needs to happen for you to continue forward, so don't back down, Jake Sully." This just confused him, what conflict? Does this have to do with the arrival of the resistance? Is this about the RDA? But he doesn't dare ask, because he knows the Tsahik can't get into detail. His gaze is focused on the herbs the Tsahik is mixing up into medicines. Was it to distract herself from this conversation? He didn't know what else to say, but there is one thing he dared to ask, "when will this happen?"

"Way sooner than you will ever expect, Jake Sully."

"Your codename is Buttercup?" Norm looked at Seb in disbelief as the guy in question just shook his head, "I was forced, this is a crime." The three of you were talking about yourselves to Norm as Norm listened carefully. Raja giggled at the embarrassment of her friend, "so there used to be this cartoon I found in one of my great grandma's old boxes. It was called the Powerpuff girls. It is about three sisters that fight against crime and we needed codenames, so I forced (Y/N) and Seb to match with me." This made Norm realize how the three trained warriors in front of him were actually still kids at heart. Of course he knew that they were young, but this just showed how much they missed out on beings kids. You chuckled at the conversation and shrugged, "I mean, my codename is Blossom so it's not too bad, not like being a buff dude and getting called Buttercup. Raja's fits hers, bubbles. It fits her bubbly personality." Seb continued complaining about how it was two against one and that he couldn't escape from his codename being Buttercup. "We are here," Norm commented and you felt the nerves go through your body once again, your grip on your katana so hard your knuckles turned lighter. As the helicopter lowered, you looked outside the window and there you saw three blue figures standing next to one another close to a facility in the middle of the forest. There he was. Your dad. Standing all high and mighty and he was so tall. He looked so different, yet still the same. You noticed certain features that just made him look like your dad. You wished you were a little kid again. If it was little you in your place right now, she wouldn't have given a damn. Would've run up to him and told him who you were as you would have jumped into his arms. But you grew up, full of anger and pain. You pursed your lips as you watched him talk with his mate and son, silently wishing it was you there, by his side as he had a proud look on his face. You had an intense conflict within yourself. Why did you have to be such a tryhard? If you slacked off, you could have been chilling with the other warriors that were spread around the other forest clans. Yet, this was something to be proud of. You did this on your own, you should prove yourself to them, to him. But were you ready for this confrontation? All this inner dialogue made your head hurt. You had to stop fighting the thoughts in your head and focus, because you were getting lost in your thoughts a lot. That wasn't acceptable, not on a battlefield. Once the helicopter landed, Norm was the first to step out of the helicopter, followed by Seb, Raja and you. When the three of you stood in a line you were standing right in front of the Na'vi: Seb in front of Neteyam, Raja in front of Neytiri, and you in front of Jake Sully right in the middle. As if Eywa herself wanted this to happen, wanting the two of you to reconnect. He analyzes you from head to toe, his gaze burning into your skin making you push your mask further into your skin. You wanted to crawl into a cave right there and then.

"Oel Ngati Kameie," the three of you say in unison as you brought your hand towards your forehead, dropping it slowly to the height where your chest is at. The na'vi in front of you do the same na'vi greeting, before Jake Sully switched to English, "I, Jake Sully, Welcome you to Pandora, I can speak for everyone of the Omatikaya clan that we are very thankful for your arrival and your help." His English sounded rusty, but understandable when you haven't been using it for the past decade. Your eyebrows raise at his English, "we understand Na'vi. Pxoeng nolume Na'vi." You spoke to your dad through your mask and you could see the surprise on his face. It made you smile, he looked proud. Fortunately, the mask covered your mouth, otherwise, everyone could have seen your happy expression. Norm chimed into the conversation, "These three are the best warriors of their group. (Y/N), Seb and Raja, all scored fantastically on their physical exams. Six years ago, these warriors left just a few weeks before RDA's departure. We got a few weeks to plan out a raid against their new forces." Everyone nods in unison and you glance at your dad once again, locking eyes with him, since he was already looking at you.

Jake's eyes widen at that name. It was a name he didn't hear in so long. He thought of his babygirl, wondering what you could be doing right now. Did you graduate? Have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Was he a grandfather? He got so overwhelmed at the thought of you. He missed you so much. His little girl, who is probably not so little now. Regret and guilt fuels his body as he remembers that he was the one to leave you and never return to earth. How he hoped to see your face again. Come and live here with him on Pandora, was that a selfish thought?

Norm took out a form and cleared his throat, making Jake Sully wake up from all his thoughts, "Jake, the warriors first need to do this checkup before they can get to work, resistance orders," he passes him the map with your files and your heart immediately dropped to your stomach. You knew he was about to get your last name eventually, but on the first day? You don't know if you can do that. "This was supposed to be my task, but I trust that you can do this, oh great Olo'eyktan? Max is researching something and he urgently needs my help with it." Great Norm, just great. Eywa, is this your doing? Because you would rather wish she takes you to her right this instant. "You can trust me with this, Norm." Jake flashes him a grin. "Don't lose it and I really mean that," Norm's gaze reaches the three of you once again, he almost looks worried, "I read the checkup, good luck, because as a scientist I could never." And to the lab he went.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Seb raised his eyebrows in concern and his eyes glanced at the map your father was holding. Neytiri has been quiet this entire time as well as Neteyam. Both were weary ever since they met you three, like mother, like son. Everyone could notice the tension, it would have made Jake's arm hair stand if he had any. "Okay, let's see what we have here.. Pretty.. gruesome.." Neteyam was looking over his dad's shoulder, frowning at all of them, "sir, is this normal for humans?" Again, you raise your eyebrows and you couldn't stop the next words you say from coming out of your mouth, "you call your father 'sir'? What is this, an army?" Raja widens her eyes, as well as Seb. Neytiri hisses your way in defense, Jake putting his arm out in front of her as to not make her pounce in you, but you don't flinch. You just looked at your father in disbelief at how he was treating his own son. It was awfully quiet as Jake didn't know what to reply. Your hard gaze on him made him feel something, guilt? Pain? He couldn't describe it, but he felt weird in some way. Luckily, Norm came back in his human body, clear mask on his face, "false alarm, he already got help from the other scientists and everything is go- what the hell happened here?" Norm could feel the tension in his bones as he watched the six of you. You were the first to speak up, "nothing is wrong here. So you will do our checkup right?" You walked towards your father, gripping the file map out of his hands and handing it over to Norm. Everyone's jaws drop to the ground and Neytiri drew her hunter's knife, "you sky demon I knew you couldn't be trusted! Such disrespectful behavior!" Jake takes a hold of his mate. They couldn't fight, not now. Neytiri needed to get out of here before blood was about to be drawn. "Ma Neytiri please, it's fine, could you please check up on Loak?" The tension was unbearable for Jake Sully. His eyes pleaded for himself to handle this. The grip on her knife loosened as she hissed again. Neteyam stepped towards his mother as his hand wrapped around hers, the one she was gripping the knife with, "mother please, please trust father." He himself had doubts about these humans, but it looked like his dad trusted them, so he should at least try right? As future Olo'eyktan. Looking into her son's eyes, she felt herself calm down as she lowered her knife, attaching it to her hip. She put her hand on Neteyam's cheek for a second before pulling her hand away. Once again, she threw a glance at you. "I'm watching you." She sent you a hiss as a warning and crept back into the forest. Great, you have a bad relationship with your dad's mate. Maybe this was for the best after all. Jake sighed, he shouldn't have taken Neytiri with him even after all her demands. With sky people she just met it was bound to go like this.

After that awkward ordeal, Neteyam led everyone to an open field in the forest. With your dad's gaze still lingering on your body, you decided to try and ignore it. Easier said than done. You yearned for your dad, but you couldn't give in. Neteyam and Jake stood to the side as the three of you started stretching in the conveniently open field that was formed into a circle. "The checkup is about strength, focus, and speed. You need to fight one vs one hand-to-hand combat battles against one another without masks on."

"Without masks?! Are they out of their mind?!"

"Do you expect an answer or?"

"No I don't!"

Seb and Raja continued their daily bickering as always, but your mind was completely somewhere else. Jake seemed to notice this, as he walked towards you. He had this urge to comfort you. Could it be, because you had the same name as his daughter on earth? Maybe, but maybe if he took care of you, he could feel at peace again. He sat on his knees and put his hand on your shoulder, making you look his way. "I'm sorry for my mate, she can be very protective of me," he softly spoke to you, "and I don't blame you, you woke up after 6 years and your entire life is upside down. I understand." You pursed your lips at his words. Why was he being so soft to you? You couldn't stand it, not when he spoke like that, reassuring you like that. You didn't reply, you just gave him the shoulder as you stepped away from his grip. This just made him even more confused as his chest hurt, did he do something wrong when he met you? Was he staring at you a little too long? Did his gaze offend you?

"We will do three rounds and in those three rounds, you need to put your enemy down for ten seconds to win."

"Let's dance then, shall we?"

And those words you spoke, felt awfully familiar to Jake Sully.

Neteyam Sully watched in awe as you fought the final round against Seb. Your mask was on the ground as you pounced on the much taller guy. He tried to lock your legs with his to make you lose your balance, which would have given him an advantage, but you punched him in the face with your fist, making his mouth open and gasp for air. In his moment of panic, you used it to knock him face-first into the dirty mossy ground, keeping his head on the floor as you twisted his arm. You sat right on his back as you used your knee on his neck to keep him down, the other weighing on his lower back and arm. You gasped for air as you saw blurry, listening to Norm count to ten was honestly something. It sounded like he counted to a hundred in slow motion. When he yelled the word ten, you quickly got off your friend, crawling towards your mask. Jake wanted to run up to you to help you, but Norm told him to stop and that this was what you were supposed to do in a real battle if it would ever happen that you lose your mask. You quickly took your mask in your hand and put it on your face with a shaky hand, gasping for the oxygen you needed. You coughed loudly as you sat on your knees with your hands on the ground. Jake rushed towards you and put his arm around you, rubbing your back with his free hand, "are you okay?" worry in his tone as he spoke. Your eyes widen at the familiar hug. The warmth of his arms as he used to hold onto you as you snuggled against him in your sleep. But you couldn't. You held onto his hand, letting the touch linger your skin before you pushed it away, "I'm good, yes." You stood up and walked towards Norm, not looking back at him once.

Just what was it with you?

And why did it hurt how you treated him?

A/N: I was lowkey insecure about posting this part 3 fr, idk if I liked it. I kept adding and adding details in the hope I would feel better about it, so here's a longer part than usual. Hope you enjoyed it. Pls tell me what you think. <3

taglist:

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @lwozy @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @eternallyvenus @imakms @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @yeosxxx @dakotali @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @sassy-persona @ggeveryone99 @calums-betch @voniikg @jakesullys-bitch @answer-the-sirens @ilovebluesliens @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @crazy4books1 @kitkat1690 @iikatsukii @666yourmomdotcom @ssc7514 @nhloversblog @eatassskatefast12 @mizuki80 @makeup-stuff-and-such @ayanies @n3t3y4msm4t3 @tigresslily @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @mangolog

[heartfullofleeches]

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

[kierancaz]

Replying to your request for prompts:

Could you write a super cute fic of Reader being on the quest with the other dwarves, and having extreme menstrual cramps, and the dwarves being overly gentle, kind, and worrying? maybe even thorin uncharacteristically gently rubbing her back as she curls up beneath her blanket?

The Company When You Have Cramps

warnings: female parts/female reader, menstruation, cramps, lmk if there's anything else !!

having woman parts sucked. and you were well aware of this when you set out on the journey to The Lonely Mountain with Thorin's company and prepared accordingly.

however, what you weren't prepared for, was cramps so bad they could rival the power of the gods (or so you thought).

you had carried on traveling for as long as could until the pain was quiet literally unbearable and you were ready to double over and just lay in the middle of the road.

at first you thought that the others would be mad or just tell you to suck it up and keep moving, but actually it was the exact opposite. they stopped and started setting up camp for the night and Oin even asked why you didn't speak up sooner seeing as you where in so much discomfort.

they didn't have any issues with you rolling out your bed mat and curling up like a ball with your blanket while they set up camp. you wished you help but you were in so much pain you didn't even think you could get up if you wanted to.

Bomber started cooking shortly after everything was set up and the fire was started. Oin had mixed together some herbs and it dulled the pain slightly but it wasn't much help, you were still in a lot of pain.

dwarves don't have a lot of women in their ranks, so imagine they take these struggles and the pain that women go though very seriously. they treat their women with the upmost respect and care.

as you laid there curled up with your head just barely peaking out from over your blanket Thorin came and squatted down in front of you. he has a sister, so I imagine he's pretty familiar with the struggles you're dealing with.

"how are you feeling?" he asks and after a moment you sit up properly next to him. "pretty shit actually."

he chuckles at your remark and hands you some warm soup, when you take it he moves his hand away to rub your back soothingly. the others are pretty preoccupied so they don't notice his sweet gesture, but you're very grateful for it.

Oin gives you more herbs after you eat and Ori joins you for a bit to talk and ask if you're alright. Fili and Kili also join you to joke around for a bit and try and get you to take your mind off the miserable state you were in. this actually works.

Bilbo also joins in on just talking with you when the others have to go do stuff like snuff out the fire or start their turn keeping watch. he brings you water and snacks/more food because food makes everything better. He is also the only one who thought to get something heated for you to put on your stomach.

he takes your water pack and as the fire is going down he places it close by and lets it heat up for a while, then he gives it you. he's very sad he doesn't have tea to offer you.

every once in a while someone will come up to you and ask if you're ok and if you need anything. just as everyone was getting ready for bed Thorin checks on you again and Oin gives you some herbs for sleep.

when you wake up you're convinced that whatever Oin gave you before you went to sleep wasn't just to ease pain and make you tired because you felt better than ever. you definitely had a spring in your step for the rest of the day.

the company was glad to see you feeling better and you helped them clean up and get back on the road. no one complained about having to stop and instead checked up on you throughout the journey to make sure you were still feeling ok.

anyway all of these guys are angles and I love them. they would def be worried and would tell you that if you're ever in pain from cramps or something again to let them know so they could stop for a bit and give you herbs.

(also if Gandalf was around when you were dealing with all that he def would've sat there with his pipe and let you smoke some of it. You know, just to keep you relaxed lol).

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader]

Note: I have no idea what to call this AU, but I don't think a lot of people will read this so... Haha~ Mental AU? Chaos AU?

Update! This AU is called Mana Chaos AU! Plus there's Part 2 up!!

Part 1 (here) 一 Part 2

Once, the world’s strongest Hunters were revered as humanity’s saviours and heroes for the weak and ordinary. They were once treated like celebrities and hold the highest power and authority. They were respected, praised, and idolized. They still were, now, with a hint of fear.

It all happened due to the infamous incident now dubbed as <The Outrage Incident>. It happened like any other day, in any other country, in any other city. But to only that one strong Hunter. He was an S-Rank Mage, a successful and loved one at that. The story goes like this. 

One day, this powerful Hunter was out on the street enjoying a day off, but something set him off and he used his powerful ability to set things right. It would have been the end of it since an S-Rank’s threat was enough to make the majority crumble. However, his power got out of control and caused an outrage to his being. He was using his powers in public and there was no dungeon outbreak or monsters nearby for him. No amount of justification could calm the public.

After that one incident, other countries’ S-Rank or higher started to experience a similar issue. The worst case was that even Healers of their level didn’t escape such a phenomenon. Soon, the public feared the strong protectors they once saw as shields and swords against the gates. 

Researchers and scientists were put to work quickly to investigate why and how this issue was happening now. The answer was in the overflowing mana levels within their bodies that couldn’t be contained since the human body was weak and frail for such a change. Addition to that, it correlated to the Hunter’s emotional level and their control. Institutions were built to imprison house the S-Ranks while monitoring their situation. 

Whenever an S-Rank’s mana levels and emotions show signs of <Outrage>, a term they now use to describe the Hunter going haywire with their powers on everything and anything around them, they will be sent to a dungeon alone. In the people’s eyes, it was better for that one Hunter to die in battle than kill innocents. Because at first, it was only the S-Ranks, but then some A-Ranks would fall victim to <Outrage> as well. 

The professionals have named the correlation as Emotional Mana, EM for short, which made way for the Emotional Mana Institution, EMI for strong Hunters. The Hunters were treated like mental patients or worse, forced into a straitjacket and some had a muzzle for certain Hunters. These were specially designed and created items that limit and restricts a Hunter’s use of their powers and abilities. 

It was a miracle that someone managed to create such equipment. That someone was also targetted by the S-Ranks after being announced and killed for such a disrespectful act, still the blueprints and prototypes were created and other talents that took over were able to finalize the perfect form.

“Personnel 002, you were specifically requested by SM-10.” 

You looked up from your laptop and paused in your rapid typing for just a few second before you looked back to your screen and continued typing. That code name was to protect you and everyone else that worked in EMI or have some form of connection to it, so that no innocent is sacrificed for the greater good. Still, you can’t get used to it nor do you want to. “I’m busy.”

“Please… SM-10 is way too picky with the people that enters his cell.” This person, Supervisor 843, was one of the newest employee to join the crew. Though, unlike the name of the duty, they were people that were disposable hence the frequent newcomers and high number. “Please help me.”

You sighed and glared up at the person who had a mask over their head and a voice changer to mask their identity. Though, with the way they were speaking, you could deduce this person was a ‘she’. You got up and snatched the file extended to you. Just when you thought you could rest and work in peace, trouble comes knocking on your door. “Get me a drink and some refreshment, I want to see it on my desk by the time I’m back.”

“Yes? Yes!” Supervisor 843 bowed and clapped her hands together, “I’ll do so!”

As swiftly and automatically, you made your way through the hallways and doorways, tapping your access card to unlock needed doors and lifts for your travel. On the way, other Supervisors nodded their heads and bowed in your presence when you walked by. Unlike them who wear a uniform, you only have a lab coat over your usual outfits. You don’t even have a mask or voice changer. 

Why?

You stood in front of the door that was labelled in bold ‘SM-10’, meaning the 10th S-Rank in Korea that belonged to the Mage class. The guard dressed in black from head to toe nodded their heads at you before they started unlocking the various security checkpoints and locks for you to enter into a battlefield in its own right.

“Will one hour be enough, Personnel 002?” One of the guards asked.

“Not sure, just be alert in case I need to rush out.” You spoke stoically with indifference.

Step by step, you walked in, announcing loudly of your arrival to the individual inside. The doors closed behind you and locked you inside with what everyone feared. You sighed and put away your glasses since there was no need for it right now. The room was eerily silent and cold, something you were long used to. 

You took a few more steps, walking deeper into the room where it seemed to get darker and darker even though the lights in all housed Hunters would be on 24/7 to monitor their actions and activities within the room. 

Just when your vision failed you to the point where you can’t see what was in front of you, you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms, your entire form effortlessly pulled back till your back was pressed against a firm wall of muscle one would call chest and abs. Hair tickled one side of your cheek and neck, you felt a breath cooed before a deep voice rang in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for my favourite Personnel~”

It wasn’t at all odd that your name was called as well, if it was someone like him, he’d know everything there was to know. In fact, everyone should be worshipping him right now for his controlled and well-mannered behaviour. Especially when he could have destroyed this entire facility and killed everyone in it within seconds if he so wished. 

“Jinwoo. I need to work, don’t bully the newcomers.” You sighed while looking to the side as if making eye contact with him. 

“I like it when you call me by name and not some code, thanks for that.” Jinwoo hummed as he played with your fingers. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s a bit bored here, you understand.”

“You removed your straitjacket again.” You let him fiddle with your fingers as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’ll get caught one of these days and then it’ll be game over.”

“Igris helped me remove it. You know how they are with seeing me constrained and imprisoned here.” He chuckled and leaned back, but it turned out he was just taking a seat, presumably on his bed since you still couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ve made sure no one could see me free and they didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”

Every Hunter that was admitted into the EMI was evaluated and thoroughly investigated to create the perfect profile for reference. All their fighting style, powers and abilities, weapons of choice, gear type, and any other detail was accounted down. It was all for people to be prepared in case one would have an <Outrage> and they were needed to be countered by weaker Hunters. 

For Jinwoo, however, his profile was lacking to put it in the best terms. His mana levels were unmeasureable, yes, so he was placed as an S-Rank. Though, his powers and abilities were unknown. Since he was a Reawakened Hunter, most would assume he was the same class as he was as an E-Rank; a Fighter Class. But he exhibit <Telekinese> and <Shadow Manipulation> so he was placed as into Mage class.

That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. 

You saw through his innocence and lie, uncovering his true powers and abilities. To be honest, even if you told your higher-ups of Jinwoo’s secrets, there was nothing they could do to counter it. Jinwoo was a league of his own and only you knew it. He was no mere S-Rank, he was definitely a National Level Hunter.

Ah, yes. The question as to why you don’t wear a mask or bother having done anything to hide your identity. It was not because you’ve been in one of the people who has been in service of EMI for the longest time or wanted something as shallow as respect from the newcomers or other coworkers. It was completely because you knew it was useless to hide when someone like Sung Jinwoo had his eyes on you.

“I’ll try and arrange a dungeon for you to raid.” You marked down on your phone while Jinwoo continued to treat you like a teddy bear.

“You have to join though. If you don’t…” Jinwoo’s voice went deeper as glowing eyes stared at you from the shadows, “I don’t know what I’ll do to get your attention…”

You nodded, pushing down the urge to flinch or jerk away from him. It was normal, something you expected but still unnerving to hear with your own ear from his lips. You swear this place made the Hunters mad in the head, it was a place that made them sick and mentally ill, it wasn’t actually helping them at all. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear it.”

Jinwoo smirked as his arms tightened around you, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. “You’re the only reason I stay here. Remember that. If you leave here… Leave me… I’ll do what Thomas Andre did to America.”

Note: I can't help it, it was supposed to upload the requested ones first, but then this idea hit me like a truck (without the isekai part), so now here it is. There are like 2 requested stories written and ready to be posted, but I'm double checking and stuff. Hope you like this AU/idea.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none at the moment)

[doki-doki-imagines]

PLS PLS CAN YOU DO THAT CHAT THING WITH KAISER, NESS, SAE AND NAGI WHERE READER TEXTS THEM SAYING “your face is so pretty I just wanna sit on it” AND THEIR REACTIONS😍😍

author note: Idk how to use fake sms app so I went for an ol' classic gif reaction.

Michael Kaiser:

-What is he looking at? At his reflex on the mirror obviously. -A laughter starts to blossom from his chest, already pushed out like a proud rooster. -He slicks his hair back, blue eyes shining with joy. Michael licks his teeth, perfect as he is. Damn, anybody would like to sit on his face; he is so fucking handsome. -He picks his phone up ready to message you something along the lines of "C'mere. I'll give you the ride of your life." Michael smirks, proud of coming up with such a hot line(it isn't). -But the message you sent got deleted. -His eyes bulge out almost cartoon style. Did he dream about it? Was the message from someone else? Michael checks the other chats, but nobody messaged him. -He doesn't want to message you about that, he isn't desperate! But a voice in the back of Michael's mind screams at him. -"?" He sends back. "Did you need something?" "No, Michael. Thanks for worrying." You reply immediately. -His heart picks a worryingly fast beat. You replied way too fast. A lightbulb turn on in his head, but the idea he comes up with is pretty risky. Michael feels blood running to his ears when he finally presses send. -"If you are free wanna come over? I need help choosing the new bed covers."

Alexis Ness:

-He is mind-numbing happy. After all, it is a pretty nice compliment to read from his crush. -If Alexis had a tail it would be wagging left and right now. A dumb smile is plastered on his face while he keeps looking at his phone. -"What are you looking at, Ness?" It's Michael's voice calling him back to work, mildly annoyed that the other boy's attention wasn't fully on him. "Oh- It's nothing, Kaiser! Let's go back to training." Alexis hides his cell phone under the last layer of his gym bag. Michael doesn't dig further for once. -When Alexis opens his phone back the sun already left his place for the moon. He obviously forgot about your message 'till he reads the new ones. "Have I crossed any boundary, Alexis? I'm sorry if it happened." "Please I don't want our friendship to be ruined by this." His heart sunk to his ass and climbed back into his throat in a matter of seconds. -Alexis calls you, clearly worried. You pick up fast for Alexis' heart health. "I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner! I had practice and I had to go then-" he keeps blabbering "I'll do anything for your forgiveness." "…Anything Alexis?" "Yes." "I wasn't joking when I sent you that message…my or your place?" "Yours. It will be my pleasure." He says, voice finally calm. -He wasn't joking.

Sae Itoshi:

-"I must have forgotten the part where I asked your opinion." -HE IS RUDE. -Sae knows it is a joke. A stupid one to try to tease him. He may not be the brightest mind, but he understands what you are trying to do. -He goes back to training like nothing happened. Then he showers and all of sudden Sae has the urge to add another line to the previous message he sent. -Meanwhile, you replied with a ton of sad emojis and other dumb blabbering Sae's mind doesn't even register. -"Anyway I prefer to eat it from the back." Sae smiles thinking he has just sent the king of the comebacks, an earth-shattering line. Soon he gets a reply, that makes his smile drop. "I must have forgotten the part where I asked about your opinion." -Maybe you are really made for each other.

Seishiro Nagi:

-What a nice message to receive. Not. -You are hundreds of kilometres of distance what is supposed to happen? Honestly thinking is tiring him out. -Seishiri sends you the thumb-up emoji and throws his phone somewhere on his bed, pc already turned on to play the newest game. -But now a worm dug a hole in his head, making Seishiro thinks about the message and not at his ranking flopping; such a noob behavior. -He thinks about your soft thighs pressing his ears, your warmth enveloping his face… -Seishiro facepalms, fingers messaging his temples before brushing away some of his snow white hair strands away from his forehead. -He doesn't even notice he already dialed your number. -"Talk dirty." "What? Muddy pants? Sweaty shirts?" "Don't play dumb. It's all your fault if I can't concentrate now. And don't let me explain, it's bothersome." You chuckle at the other end. He can feel the mirth in your voice. "Sorry angel. You'll have to work if you want the prize." -He groans in annoyance, head thrown back. -It seems like Seishiro will have to break his "5 days doing nothing useful" streak.

[animeyanderelover]

Hiii, I don't see much of Jujutsu Kaisen so that's what I'll be requesting:

1. Happy deathday (Gojo, sukuna, nanami, Mahito, the 1st years)

2. Their reaction to s/o being able to nullify their ability (Gojo, sukuna, Mahito)

You can add other characters you'd like and think might be interesting.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, clinginess, paranoia, controlling behavior, sadism, isolation

S/o can nullify their abilities

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾I can see his s/o very well being assigned to Yuji as soon as the boy has swallowed Sukuna’s finger. The King of Curses himself doesn’t do much besides cackling over you as he sees you as nothing more but a mere babysitter. It has definitely happened that his mouth has popped up on Itadori’s face, tauntingly questioning you about what you hope to do once he actually gains control. You never appear shaken though, always fairly calm and composed as you reply to him before Yuji slaps the mouth shut and apologizes to you. Sukuna is always watching and he definitely observes your confident exterior which does elicit his curiosity. What exactly can you do? What are your abilities? He wants to test you, to see if you are only bark and no bite or if you can stand for your words. Yuji’s naïve wish to protect people is exploited for Sukuna’s own use and soon he snatches the chance to gain control of Yuji whilst he is in your presence. He is fully prepared to kill you if you don’t prove yourself.

🗾Only that the situation never escalates to a battle as all you do is touch him and seal his powers away, forcing him back inside Yuji’s mind. You don’t want to risk any unnecessary destruction. So you just brush him off as nothing? Who do you think you are? It’s a rare humiliation Sukuna has to suffer on that day as you aren’t even willing to fight him and label it as unneeded. He’s seething, his words from that day on filled with a lot more spite but you always reply with an equal amount of sass and snarl. He really has to work on that mouth on yours. As infuriated as he is though, he can’t deny that there isn’t a spark of attraction within this all though. He definitely has to put you in your place but your unique ability to cancel someone else’s technique is, even if quite plain-looking, definitely the ultimate counter against anyone. You’d definitely be useful in his later schemes to help him to regain all of his fingers and to get his original body back.

🗾The verbal banter between the two of you keeps going on as both of you essentially see who can deliver the heavier blow with their insults. A part of Sukuna is definitely yearning for a chance to get another chance to fight you physically but for now he has to be satisfied with this. He can’t deny it though, he is enjoying this by now quite a lot. He’ll tolerate this bratty and rebellious behavior of yours for as long as he is stuck inside the boy’s mind. As soon as Uraume has revealed themself, Sukuna is ordering his servant to keep a special eye on you for as long as he still hasn’t regained a body over which he has full control. You absolutely can’t die now that he has gotten so incredibly interested in you. As much as he would love to search for you right now and get his rematch, he feels his control slowly fading away. There is a sadistic grin on his face though as he takes one final glance at the havoc he has caused in Shibuya. He can’t wait to see your reaction of despair, knowing that it was your job to prevent something like this from happening.

Gojo Satoru

🩵He has always had a particular interest in you. Although you are a low-ranked sorcerer, there has always been something that has made Gojo’s day that much more delightful. Is it your frustrated facade whenever he is teasing the living daylight out of you? Is it the way you pout whenever you feel a bit neglected? Whatever it is, Gojo is absolutely obsessed about it and just can’t stop himself from always following you around. He is the worst attention-seeker possible and he either annoys you to have you focus on him or he is being more considerate and buys you expensive presents to gain your attention and maybe even some praise and a kiss out of gratitude. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded if it would have stayed that way. But then you just had to develop this Domain Expansion of yours, didn’t you? An ability that completely eradicates all Cursed Energy within except your own, that drains the energy of all foreign living beings within and only strengthens you in return. Suddenly your popularity breaks through the roof.

🩵Suddenly Gojo’s perception of you changes as well. It is a development he doesn’t want to accept. You were supposed to only be this adorable sorcerer he knew about and paid attention to. You weren’t supposed to be the center of attention, be it good or bad. You weren’t supposed to be like him. He knows that the stronger and unique one’s powers are, the more likely they are to be targeted by those who fear such strength. Even if he has no proof for it, Gojo’s paranoia suddenly appears. What if you are really targeted by someone? What if you are killed by someone? The change in atmosphere when he is around you is palpable as he is a lot more rigid and his blue eyes are always darting around as if he fears that someone or something will come for your life at any moment. For a little while this is all he mainly thinks about as he tries to butter up to you by telling you about the experiences he has had as a child to justify his overly clingy behavior. It isn’t long until he has another realization though. Your abilities would even render his powers useless.

🩵Gojo’s identity has always tied into being the strongest, about being the one who no one can beat. Now you exist though. Now you are there and can eradicate his abilities. What does that make him then? Is he even himself if he isn’t the strongest? A part of Satoru is tempted to ask you to show him your Domain Expansion in the little hope that your powers won’t work on him. The other part of him is too frightened to do so as he doesn’t want his belief up until now to be destroyed. Who is he if he isn’t the one everyone has always thought him to be? The man is terrified, terrified as he realizes that the one person who could most likely kill him is you. That isn’t who you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be only his. Desperation and bitterness collide with each other as Gojo wishes that you would have just stayed that overlooked and weak sorcerer you used to be. You don’t need any Domain Expansion. You don’t even need to be a sorcerer. You only need him. Satoru will help you to realize this.

Mahito

🔷Mahito has always been carefree and goofy even whilst committing atrocities by toying around with humans. He has always gotten a good laugh out of Yuji’s moral lessons, about the boy’s anger whenever he transfigured and killed humans. It has always been fun and that is largely because so far Mahito has never been seriously beaten. Until he crosses paths with you. A freelancer of a sorcerer who isn’t really working for the Jujutsu society. It isn’t his first time that he has fought against a sorcerer and in hindsight his mistake was taunting you even whilst you weren’t willing to fight him. Of course he will never blame it on himself that he pushed you over your limit until you ran out of patience. Soon he is crying and screaming as he tries to scramble away from you yet without any success as he is in your Domain Expansion. Quivering pupils look at you as you calmly walk over, your fists stained in his blood as you look at him with chilling disregard. He isn’t even worth killing.

🔷Mahito is unable to live with the humiliation you give him on that day. Never before has he been on the weak side before, never before has he been on the side that suffers. That’s why he is unable to process it all. He’s deeply scarred after that encounter with you. Partially he is utterly and partially he yearns for revenge, traumatized as he can’t and won’t accept how you treated him on that day as if he was the disposable toy. Mahito initially becomes more obsessed with the thought of forcing you to cower on all four in front of him. He needs to correct his view on the world that has been shattered ever since you cursed his life. His body is still far too terrified to get close to you so the curse starts stalking you from a safe distance and he hates how his body always freezes in fear and panic if your head turns around, petrified that you might have sensed him. He hates what he has become of you, petty hatred all directed against you for this humiliation he had to endure because of you. Mahito wants to see you suffer even more than he did.

🔷Hatred soon gradually weakens with time though as Mahito starts getting interested in you. Initial plans to kill closed ones of you fail as he soon comes to realize that you are a true lone wolf. Your life is lonely and isolated from others as you like to keep to yourself. Why is that? Is there a deeper lying fear? Or does nobody like you? It is almost as if Mahito is actively trying to find something to pity you for all to boost his own sense of superiority and confidence. You really don’t seem to have anybody in your life and suddenly he is very adamant to keep it that way. Someone like you doesn’t deserve anyone and he even takes it a step further by interfering to the point where other sorcerers start distrusting you. He wants to see you lonely. He wants to find a way to break you because only then can he feel whole again. Don’t worry though. He’ll gladly keep you as soon as he has found out how to completely take away your abilities. He’s sure that you’ll be at your cutest when you’re at your weakest and most vulnerable point.

[fandomlit]

the right to jealousy (draco malfoy x reader)

requested by anon "Hiii if it's not too late I saw you were looking for Harry potter requests!! If you write for Draco please do prompts 1, 31, 36, and 20 where he's jealous but doesn't want to admit it to reader and then just kisses her? If you don't write for Draco just ignore.. thank if you do!"

warning swearing, aggressive verbal argument

o hey i do writing prompts,, those used in this imagine will be in bold

gif cred belongs to @draco-fuckingmalfoy

"where have you been?"

you jumped, not expecting to hear a voice so late at night when entering the slytherin common room. placing a hand on your heart, you looked around with an annoyed expression to see draco malfoy sitting in one of the chairs, not even looking at you.

"why do you care?" you sighed, not forgetting how he had brushed you off earlier that day when you tried to talk to him in potions. draco had been rather crass with you lately; ignoring you in lessons, seemingly fuming every time he caught your eye, and making sneering comments at you when you managed to get him to say something. you were getting fed up with it; a week of sass from the guy you were crushing on had you grumpy in every lesson.

he finally looked up at you from the paper he'd been reading, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "i am a prefect, you know."

you rolled your eyes. "how could i ever forget.." you started to make your way to the girls dormitories when you heard his footsteps approaching behind you.

"i asked where you've been."

you turned around to find him much closer than you'd expected, his jaw clenched and his expression positively livid. if you weren't so mad and confused with him, you would've found his anger achingly attractive. "what do you care, draco? you seem to take no interest in where i am any other hour of the day!"

"i don't care!" he spoke defiantly, but his own fury betrayed him. "i couldn't care less if you were out there with potter or whoever the hell in the middle of the night. but as your prefect, i ought to know!"

you blinked in surprise at the accusation of you being with someone. "what does it matter if i was with someone not, draco? do you just think of me as some common lass who sneaks out to get her-" the realization dawned on you mid sentence, and you watched carefully as draco's jaw clenched, as if he were biting back another shout amidst your working mind. "are you jealous?"

"oh come on, i see the way you've been looking at him," draco accused, dodging your question. "looking at him like everyone else does--like potter owns the castle and everyone in it. like he's some hero to our ranks. and i've seen the way he's been looking at you, too." before you could ask what the could possibly mean, he crossed his arms again and spat, "so was it him that was worth sneaking out for?"

you scoffed at him, shaking your head. "you're mad! you're deluding yourself into thinking i was out with someone because you're looking for something to be upset about!"

"i've said it once and i'll say it again: i don't care."

"everything about you right now screams otherwise," you scoffed again.

"just tell me who you were with and this is all over!" he spat, opening his arms in a frustrated manner. "i am a prefect, y/n, you have to tell me."

"get a new excuse!" you demanded. he just glared at you and you glared right back into his darkened grey eyes. you let your words ring for a moment before you asked again with less ferocity, "draco, are you jealous?"

"you're slow today," he spoke quickly and ferociously, taking your face in his hands and practically crushing your lips to his. despite the quickness and pent up aggression in the kiss, it was desperately satisfying to let go of the argument to throw your arms around his shoulders, letting days worth of tension melt into his mouth.

after a few quick, hot moments, the kisses turned slower and longer as the anger that began the exchange simmered, and all that was left was the passion that underlined everything between the two of you. when you both pulled apart, draco surged forward one last time for a long, hard kiss before he finally opened his eyes. you were slower to open yours as he dragged his hands your arms to slip to your waist, his face still only a mere inch from yours.

"better than whoever you were with?" he asked lowly, giving you a cocky half-smirk despite his hot breaths still hitting your lips.

you rolled your eyes but your former anger didn't resurface. "considering i was just at a private astronomy lesson with professor sinistra, definitely." the admission made him close his eyes for a moment. "yeah, feel a little stupid now?"

"no," he was quick to answer, grey gaze immediately locking with yours again. "now that you're mine.." you raised your eyebrows at him but didn't interrupt, "i have the right to feel whatever the hell kind of jealousy i want."

"so you admit it, then?"

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 175 }

heartbreak feels so good.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: mentions of physical intimacy, but nothing too explicit.

{ we could cry a little, cry a lot | don't stop dancing, don't dare stop | we'll cry later or cry now | you know it's heartbreak | we could dance our tears away | emancipate ourselves | we'll cry later or cry now, but baby | heartbreak feels so good }

anonymous said: HELLO!! ⭐ anon here and I have an idea. I literally can't stop thinking about it. It's gonna make my brain hurt so I won't hide it any longer ☹️

GAHAHAHAHAHAHA imagine Jinwoo who had a one night stand with reader. It was like after a party and they decided to hook up for one night, but reader regretted it afterwards bc of how shameful she thought she was—like bravely being involved with the Sung Jinwoo in such field??? Also what—he agreed and looked smug too or was she mistaken???

Jinwoo already knew reader and had been eyeing her for a while but didn't say anything about it. Before he even woke up, she was already gone and he was instantly reminded of the night they spent together.

Pookie got awkward after that and started to avoid Jinwoo. Meanwhile, little did she know, he actually liked to observe reader from afar. He'd often find it cute when she'd take one step away from him sideways as the tip of her ears go red.

Idk man one day Jinwoo just said "fuck this let's go on a date" and then boom their relationship bloomed. I'm so into this trope 😭 no toxicity, just two people being awkward and slowly exploring their actual feelings for each other. I'm sorry if this is too long, but still, if you saw this, thank you for reading. I hope you have a good day! I just can't help but yap every single change I get. ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

this had to be the biggest mistake of your life-

but truly, how could you have possibly even try to think straight when you had wanted nothing more than to just play pretend for one night? to actually feel like you were cherished and loved by someone who meant a lot to you?

the party you attended was, of course, thrown as a celebration for hunters and healers alike. the chairman had gone all out for everyone who had worked hard for the nation and wanted to give everyone a chance to de-stress and enjoy themselves.

from the fanciest bottles of champagne and wine that cost more than your salary to the perfectly catered food that seemed to suit everyone’s cravings and needs-

admittedly, you felt a bit out of your element.

the fact that so many people were here at this venue made you feel incredibly overwhelmed. in hopes of trying to maintain your sanity, you head over to the waiters and waitresses serving glass upon glass of expensive liquor, downing each of them while praying that the liquid courage would take effect and you could properly mingle with everyone else.

after downing just a few glasses of bubbly champagne, you could feel the heat against your cheeks coupled along with a slight tipsiness as the alcohol courses through your veins. yet, in the midst of your increasing drunken stupor, the strange sensation of being watched was what ultimately made you face him-

the tenth s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo.

he was leaning against the wall, tending to his own glass of red wine as his grey eyes remained rooted to your form. an almost mischievous grin was felt spreading across your lips, noticing how a certain blond hunter wasn’t latched on to him like a leech.

jinwoo is an incredibly fine specimen… i could work with this.

the alcohol in your system gave you the much needed courage to sidle up to him, your lips turned up in a smile as you casually smoothed out your dress. “hey hunter sung, funny seeing you here. you have always remained so elusive during gatherings like this.”

a look of pure amusement was shining within his grey eyes. “well, i figured it was time to change that, since it would be rude not to show up to at least one of the chairman’s events.”

you hum at his answer while sliding your hand up his dress shirt, earning a choked sound from him. “hm, you know, i was shocked to not see hunter cha clinging to you tonight. she’s the type that can never seem to leave you alone…”

“ah, w-well, she doesn’t always wish to hang out with me now that i’ve- wait, what are you doing?”

wow, his skin is so smooth… i can feel his muscles from beneath this flimsy dress shirt.

jinwoo’s breath hitches when your press the palm of your hand against his chest, purposely trailing your touches down to his abdomen as you leaned up to whisper in his ear. “the chairman said he rented out some floors of the hotel in case his guests got tired. shall i keep you company instead of cha hae-in tonight?”

you never got a chance to hear jinwoo’s answer or see his expression. simply grabbing a hold of his hand, you took the elevators to one of the booked floors, taking a card key from one of the hotel staff before shoving jinwoo into one of the rooms.

all you wanted was a chance to experience this type of intimacy with a man you respected and admired-

but you weren’t expecting jinwoo to be so gentle with you throughout it all.

you didn’t expect him to kiss every inch of your skin, filling you with so much pleasure that you became sensitive to his every touch.

you didn’t expect him to slowly make love to you, tangling your limbs together like he never wanted to let go of you.

and you certainly didn’t expect to experience such an intense release throughout your night together with jinwoo.

with the post lovemaking (and post champagne) quality kicking in just a few hours later, you awaken in the middle of the night with a start, feeling cold as the night air pricked at your skin, sending goosebumps down the length of your arms. your heart was a pounding mess as you ran a hand through your tangled hair.

recalling the ache felt between your legs, you look behind you to see jinwoo still sound asleep. he lay on his stomach, with the sheets just barely clinging on to his muscled back, making your mouth water in response.

your lips itched with the sudden desire to latch against his skin;

your whole body was screaming at you to just lay next to him and bask in his warmth;

but it was the more rational part of your mind that stopped you from acting on those irrational urges.

he’s going to wake up and regret sleeping with you.

with a purse of your lips, you allow your bare feet to touch at the carpeted floors. you slowly began to pick up the remnants of your undergarments while hastily putting them on along with your now wrinkled dress.

never once did you avert your gaze from jinwoo.

never once did he awaken to try and stop you from leaving.

it’s for the best.

giving the sleeping jinwoo one last look of yearning, you silently left the hotel room with every intention of never seeing the famous hunter ever again.

{ … }

to say you were embarrassed after that night would be the understatement of the century.

you had little clue as to truly how much time had passed, since your mind kept giving you flashbacks of how drunk and needy you were-

and also how caring jinwoo was when he willingly spent the night with you.

this embarrassment was what fuels you to continue avoiding jinwoo like a damn plague, with you taking on much lower leveled raids, raids that jinwoo wouldn’t pay the slightest attention to while slowly burying yourself with your duties.

you never sought to join any guilds and made it your life’s mission to stay far away from ahjin’s building, never once wishing to run into jinwoo.

in fact, you were perfectly fine with acting like your one night stand with him never happened at all.

however, unlucky for you, jinwoo himself didn’t seem to share that same sentiment.

{ … }

the moment you left him that night was the moment jinwoo had his first taste of true regret.

he felt so happy and excited when you approached him and invited him to spend the night with you. you never knew it, but jinwoo was achingly in love with you. he had hoped that with this chance, he could spoil you rotten with pleasure while taking great lengths to worship you; to love you like he had always wanted to.

when he could feel the pleasure washing over you with each and every stroke, jinwoo had gone a little crazy over you. the poor hunter had to bite down on his lips to prevent his words of utter love and devotion for you from spilling out.

but instead of choosing to tell you with words, he tells you with his actions alone.

yet still, it wasn’t enough to keep you by his side-

which was frustrating, to say the least.

jinwoo was no fool; he could tell that you were taking great lengths to avoid him. each time he would try to find you (whether it be during raids or just in general around the city) you would find ways to avoid ever meeting him by either switching out with another hunter / healer, or using the crowd to hide yourself away from him.

whenever this happens, jinwoo could only manage to let out an exasperated sigh in response. his hair would become a mess from the sheer amount of times he had run his fingers through them, trying to think of new ways to talk to you and finally confess.

throughout it all, jinwoo was left feeling a little listless, his mind always managing to go back to you…

by now, jinwoo had become desperate to finally have you.

while staring blankly at the ceiling of his office, jinwoo leans back against his chair while whispering your name.

if jinwoo couldn’t get to you by fair means, then he would have to start playing dirty, using his abilities as the shadow monarch to finally get through to you.

{ … }

so far, everything had been going according to plan on your end.

you had been successfully avoiding jinwoo for close to 4 months now, and when you were certain his lingering presence was no longer felt or seen within your periphery did you finally decide to head out for the night.

you were dying to get out of your apartment, wanting to try that new café or head to your go-to bookstore to read a new novel or two. yet your desire to always avoid jinwoo made you turn into a bit of a hermit (albeit unwillingly, but still.)

basking in the night air and the bustling sounds of seoul, you walked with a bit of a bounce in your step, thinking about your plans for the night. while you walked, you kept your gaze forward, and was caught off guard by the strangest phenomenon.

one minute, the sidewalk was free of any pedestrians, and the next, a man wearing an expensive looking coat appears just a mere inches away from you.

you recall letting out a gasp, hands already outreached to try and avoid face planting against the man’s broad back-

however, when he turns around was when you felt all of the air leave your lungs.

sung jinwoo was now facing you, his height still towering over you as his arms remained open, casually catching you within his embrace as your face landed against his chest. by now, your heart was pounding, making the blood rush to your ears as you began to feel dizzy.

“looks like i finally caught you.” a rich chuckle fills your ears when jinwoo places a lingering kiss against the top of your head, causing you to let out several sputters of his name.

“h-how did you-“

“did you forget who i am… and what i can do?”

his question successfully makes your heart skip beats, thinking back to the rumors that pertained to jinwoo and his ability to summon millions of shadow soldiers. along with this ability, you also knew that he could place many of those soldiers within anyone’s shadow while exchanging places with them on a whim.

“what? w-when did you manage to place your soldiers within my shadow?”

jinwoo hums, placing a hand beneath your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. “when you came up to me at the party and lead me back to the hotel room.” a sly smile paints his handsome features when he leans down to whisper against your ear, “but you have to understand, even before that night, i was already half in love with you. i couldn’t help it when you gave me such a perfect opportunity.”

his sudden confession nearly makes you fall to your knees, but jinwoo manages to catch you in time, wrapping his arms around your waist while holding you even closer to him.

“so tell me, my beloved treasure, why you were so dead set on avoiding me?” he meets your gaze then, eyes filled with a subtle look of pain. “do you know how much it hurt me, seeing you ignoring me so blatantly like that?”

your breathing comes out as uneven, with you avoiding his gaze as you played with the front of his shirt, “i’m sorry, i thought that night was the only way to experience that type of intimacy with you. i convinced myself that i was nothing to you… and i-“

you hear jinwoo let out a hiss of your name before crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. it was enough to make you swallow your words as you moaned into his kiss, shyly kissing him back as jinwoo tightens his arms around you.

“shut up.” he manages to hoarsely say against your lips. “you drive me so fucking crazy all the time, but i still love you this much. never talk down about yourself in such a way ever again, because from this point on, you’re mine.”

you look into his eyes once more and see them burning a deep purple for you. there wasn’t a hint of a lie within the depths of his gaze, and the truth of his confession was finally beginning to sink into you.

“o-oh…”

your heart seemed to be beating a mile a minute now, racing so much that it overwhelmed you with its rapid palpitations.

letting out one last sigh of your name, jinwoo brings your head back into his chest, hugging you tightly. “when i’m done holding you like this, i’m going to take you out on a much needed date, and you are finally going to give us a chance. if you try to run again, just know that i will keep chasing you while chipping away at the walls you stubbornly built around your heart.”

you let out a tiny squeak, but couldn’t help but grin in response to his passionate words. “your plan is already working.” you murmur against his chest.

moving away from jinwoo, you look up at him with bright eyes all while giving him a genuine smile. “my heart is already yours, so-“

jinwoo interrupts you yet again, this time by picking you up and spinning you around in happy circles, hands clutched tightly against your sides when he brings you back down to him. nuzzling his nose against yours, you watch as a smirk paints his gorgeous features.

“it’s about damn time you finally admitted your feelings for me.”

and with yet another kiss shared beneath the city lights, you no longer felt the pangs of heartbreak filling your veins, feeling it slowly morph into the requited love you had always desired with your beloved sung jinwoo ♡

a.n. - and i’m so happy to finish this. this should be my 40th jinwoo oneshot, which is insane to think about 😭 currently unedited but, i hope you enjoyed this @ ⭐️ anon 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[callumsturn]

At Last

Summary: John watches you at the bar, having fun without him, and trying his best to not get jealous. Your troubled past comes to the surface once he senses he might lose you to someone else.

Pairing: Major John "Bucky" Egan x female reader Content/Warnings: He gets jealous, you can guess where this is going. 18+ smut (minors don't interact), unprotected sex. Notes: If you have any requests you'd like me to write please let me know! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you! Also, I'm working on a part II for "Sweet John", if anyone's interested in reading that just let me know!

You didn't notice John's gaze on you the entire night through the crowded pub, as another airman talked to you. You were trying to have fun for a variation of events. You felt you deserved it.

You looked over at him for a brief second, your eyes happened to rest in his direction. You heard him talk to his best mate Major Gale Cleven, which said something rushed before you saw Egan drain the rest of his beer, setting the glass on the bar and walk in your direction.

He approached you and the other man, hands in his pockets, a smirk on his face. He stopped between the two of you, making sure to knock shoulders with the other guy in the process. "Hey." he spoke, his eyes never leaving you.

"Hi." You simply said, confused for a second.

Major Egan looked around the pub before leaning down. "Is he bothering you?" he asked lowly next to you.

"No Bucky, I'm alright." you told him.

"Good." He grumbled in response, before shooting the other man a look and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, tugging you slightly closer to him.

"Bucky, stop that." your voice trailed off, tired. The other airmen looked at you puzzled.

Bucky looked down at you, his smirk widening. "What? I can't spend time with my favourite girl?" He joked, pulling you against his side.

You heard the other airman speak suddenly. "Oh sorry, are you guys-."

"We're not." you assured him.

Egan wasn't your boyfriend, he had no right to act like he owned you, but he wanted the other airman to think you were off limits.

"Not yet." he said between his signature smirk. "But I'm working on it."

The other airmen stepped forward. "It seems like you're the one bothering the lady, Mr....?" he waited for Bucky to introduce himself, and hopefully leave you all to himself.

Bucky scoffed slightly. "Major John Egan.", removing his arm from your shoulders and offering out his hand for the other man to shake.

The other man did the same, introducing himself as a lower rank.

Bucky's grip on his hand was firm - maybe a little too firm for a typical greeting. "What unit you with?" he asked him, eyes sizing up the man's uniform. After getting his answer Bucky spoke plainly. "I see." He then turned his attention back to you, eyes somewhat unreadable.

His smirk returned as he looked at the man, his voice calm. "What're you doing talking to my girl?" His tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of possessiveness to it.

"Bucky, stop that." Your voice a bit higher now.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "What? I'm just making conversation."

You felt the other airman's hand at the low of your back, before he spoke. "We're just getting to know each other."

You noticed Bucky's eyes tracing his movements, before complaining. "Can I help you mate?" Bucky's voice showing real bother for the first time. "You can keep your hands to yourself, yeah?" He responded in a half-threatening tone.

You stepped away from the man, as well as from Bucky. "You're being an asshole John." you told him.

He knew he was being an ass, but he couldn't help it; something inside him snapped everytime he saw you with someone else. "Yeah, well..." he trailed off, looking around before his gaze landed on you again. "Better than letting him paw all over you."

"I wasn't pawing all over her." the other airman raises his voice.

Bucky took a step forward, eyes narrowing as the man raised his tone. "Hey, pal" he said, irritation in his tone. "Back off."

Bucky pushed the man's chest with a firm push, and you saw Gale come to the rescue, reaching the air, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder, attempting to pull him away. "Cut it out, Bucky. That's enough." he said firmly.

He shrughed his shoulders, hands in the air in defense, like he hadn't done a thing. You looked at him for a second, before backing away from the everyone, exiting the bar.

Watching you leave, part of him wanted to follow after you and apologize for his behavior, but the other part of him stubbornly insisting he took the right action - he'd be dammed before he let some other airmen make a move on you.

Gale shook his head as his eyes followed you, before looking back at Bucky. "You're a damn idiot." He shrugged Gale's hold on him, following you outside.

The cool night air hit the Major in the face as he pushed open the door, eyes darting around the street to find you. A flicker of guilt flared in his chest as he spotted you walking down the street, head down and arms crossed. He hesitated for a second, before making his way towards you.

You heard his steps behind you, just before his voice became clear. "Hey I'm sorry."

You stopped walking abruptly, turning around to face him. His hands were shoved in his pockets, the expression on his face a mixture of guilt and something else. "I'm sorry." he repeated, taking a few steps forward. "I shouldn't have acted like that in there."

"Yeah, but somehow, you always do." The look of disappointment on your face hitting him like a brick.

Bucky's heart constricted in his chest as he looked down at you, the look in your eyes almost physically painful for him to see. It always was, but he could never help himself.

"It's just... " he trailed off, looking around the street. "You and another guy... it pisses me off, alright?"

"I don't see why!" You kept your guard up. Your irritated tone contrasting with his.

Frustration and annoyance started to show on his face. "And I don't see how you can stand there and act like you don't know damn well why it pisses me off!" he replied, taking another step closer to you, his gaze boring directly into to yours.

"Because you don't like seeing men put their hands on women? I get that, but it was kind of my choice to accept that or not, not you."

"Damn it, that's not the point!" he exclaimed, resisting the urge to just grab you by the arms and shake some sense into you. "You shouldn't be letting other guy touch you like that, especially those british pricks."

"So now it's because he's British. You mess around with British girls all the time and that doesn't bother you."

Bucky tensed at your words. "That's... different."

"How is that fucking different John?" Your voice filled with disbelief.

"Because it just is, okay?" His voice growing louder as he struggled to control his emotions. "You can't just... you can't just let every aiman that comes along touch you, it's not-" he cut himself off abruptly, exhaling a sharp breath.

"Every airmen..." you exhaled an answer, chuckling. "So now I'm some kind of whore."

Bucky's eyes widened as his expression changed from anger to genuine hurt. "What?"" he exclaimed. "No, of course you're not, I don't-" he cut himself off, running a hand over his face with a frustrated low groan. "That's not what I meant." he mumbled. "Why are you twisting my words like that?"

"What do you mean then John?"

"You can't just let guys be all handsy with you when it's obvious-" he paused for a moment "when it's obvious they're trying to get with you."

"And why do you care?" your voice toning down, tired of aurguing.

Bucky froze for a second, stunned by your question. "Why do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Why do I care?" he repeated. "Because... because I care about you, goddamnit."

You chuckled softly after a couple seconds of silence. "Sure... just not enough."

He looked at you like you'd just slapped him in the face. "Don't..." he began, taking another step closer to you. "Don't say that. You know that's not true."

You shrughed your shoulders. "Do I?" You looked at him, tears of age forming in your eyes. Bucky's expression changed completely. The sight of your tears immediately sending a pang through his chest.

"Hey..." he said softly, reaching out to gently brush the tears from your cheeks. "Hey, come on, don't do that." He cupped your face gently, looking at you with concern and regret.

"I'm not yours, but I can't be anyone else's." you simply told him.

His eyes flickered across your expression as he processed your words. "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid of the answer.

"It means I don't wanna be stuck in this strange limbo."

Bucky was silent for a moment, heart clenching in his chest as he took in your words. He knew what you were talking about, he knew what this conversation was leading to, but he still wasn't quite ready to hear it. "What do you want me to say?", his words somewhat strangled. "Damn it, you know why I can't-" he trailed off, his hands dropping back down to his side.

Your eyes were pleading for an answer.

"You know why I can't." he repeated, swallowing hard. "You know I want you, I-" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, knowing that if he did, there was no going back. You saw Bucky trying to gather his best words, until they finally came out of his mouth. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

Bucky stared down at you, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and fear. He has thought those words but had never had the courage to actually say them out loud. He tried to say something, anything, to fill the silence, but he found he wasn't able to. So he just stood there, looking at you with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"You'll hurt me either way." you whispered.

Bucky visibly winced at your words. He wanted to protest, to tell you that wasn't true, but he knew you were right. He would hurt you, no matter what decision he made. He exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes locked on yours as he tried to find something to say.

"I-" he cut himself off before he could finish his sentence - before he blurted out three very dangerous little words.

Instead, he took another step forward, reaching out to lightly brush some hair away from your face. His hand lingered against your skin for a moment, almost like he was trying to memorize the feeling of your touch beneath his fingertips.

"Damn it." he mumbled, almost solely to himself. "You make me so damn weak, y'know that?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was a losing battle as he stared down into your eyes. He could feel himself crumbling. "You wreck me." he admitted quietly, the words falling from his lips in a whispered confession.

He couldn't help himself from closing the remaining space between you both. He pulled you closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. You looked up at him with hopefull and tired eyes as he grabbed your face. You couldn't take it anymore, you had to try. Your eyes focused on his lips, then on his eyes and then his lips again. You noticed John's reaction to your gaze.

Bucky knew exactly what you were doing. He could see it in your eyes, and it took every ounce of self-control not to simply crash his lips against yours. He wanted to, desperately. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and give in to the overwhelming urge to kiss you.

You finally closed the gap between you both, half expecting John to back away. But he didn't.

He couldn't.

The moment your lips connected, all rationality left him. He didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped around you in a tight grip, as he returned the kiss with a bruising passion. You wrapped your hands around his neck hesintatly.

Bucky's hands moved to your lower back, fingers tangling in the fabric of your shirt, as he deepened the kiss. He was desperate, hungry, like a starving man given his first taste of food in weeks. The kiss was deeply passionate, filled with months of unspoken words and buried feelings.

He couldn't get enough of you. He wanted more, as much as possible, as much as you would give him. He nipped at your bottom lip, demanding more, his grip on you tightening as he pressed you closer, the length of his body molded against yours.

"John..." you mumbled his name near his mouth, in a faint whisper.

He let out a low groan at the sound of his name falling from your lips. The way you said it, breathless and desperate, sent a shiver down his spine. "Don't say my name like that." he mumbled back against your mouth, before capturing your lips in another bruising kiss.

"Why?" you lightly smiled against his lips.

"You know damn well why." he replied. "You say my name like that and I'm a goner."

You just smiled up at him, a look of innocence on your face. "Let's go home John."

His breath caught in his troat as you spoke. Home, with you. His grip on you tightened reflexively. He swallowed hard, staring down at you. His eyes a mixture of desire and hope. "Yeah, let's go home."

You grabbed his hand and practically ran to his car.

The drive back to his place was tense and filled with electric energy, stealing glances as he drove, fighting to keep his hands off you. After what felt like an eternity, you finally pulled up to this place. You looked at him for a few seconds, analyzing his expression.

"What?" you laughed slightly.

Bucky shook his head, running a hand through his hair, as he chuckled nervously. "Nothing." he said. "Just... trying to get my bearings, I guess." He paused for a moment, looking at you with a mixture of tenderdes and desire. "Come on." he said quietly. "Let's go inside."

You were amazed at his soft and kind manner. You always saw Bucky either partying, drunk or just overly enthusiastic about a successful mission. He was being sweet and assuring, and you were not used to it.

Bucky held your hand gently as he led you out of the car and towards his door. He let you inside, following closely behind, his eyes never leaving you as he closed the door behind him. He knew he was acting differently, but he couldn't help it. This was different. And it scared the hell out of him.

You took off your jacket and placed it on a nearby sofa at the entrance. You looked around at his apartment. Majors usually received good places to live.

Bucky watched you get comfortable, his eyes lingering on your body before averting them quickly. He hadn't been lying when he said you wrecked him, and it was taking all his self-control not to just grab and press you up against the wall right then and there.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

You shook your head no as you approached him.

One of his hands moved to your hip, gently resting there. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." You smiled up at him, resting your hands briefly in his chest.

He inhaled sharply, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Slowly, he let out a shaky exhale. "God, you're beautiful." he murmured.

"What took you so long to say that?" you asked with your arms around his neck.

He chuckled softly at your question, his hand slowly moving over your back to pull you closer. He leaned down, his mouth hovering just above your car. "I thought I made that pretty clear." he murmured. "I'm not a subtle guy."

"Sure... you've always said it, some way or another."

"I think I've been pretty damn obvious" Bucky agreed. "But you just wouldn't listen."

You looked at him for a few seconds. "You mean it?"

“I’ve always meant it.” His words sincere and his hands grabbing the small of your waist.

He sent shivers down your body with each word, with each touch. He drove you wild.

You abruptly connected both your lips for the second time of the night. Your small figure clinging to his larger one. He immediately grabbed your face between his hands, returning the kiss, before moving his hands to your body. Your arms around his neck and back, holding him with eagerness.

You heard his chuckle between kisses. “Are you alright?”

“I’m done waiting John.” You whispered as you looked him in the eyes for a brief second.

You saw him nod his head, his expression serious. He guided you to his bedroom, never letting go of you. He closed the door behind him, just as you pushed him to his bed. You crawled your way up, your stomach up, looking up at him. Waiting for him.

He unbuttoned his uniform, taking his underneath T-shirt in a swift move over his head. He then started undoing his belt, and dropped his pants on the floor before climbing on the bed. He started undressing you. Ever so carefully, not rushing the moment. First your shirt, then your skirt, and lastly your shoes and stockings. He kept your foot on his hand, bringing it up and kissing it slowly, looking at you and then your core. His hand running over your leg. You positioned your ankle on top of his shoulder and pushed him towards you, on top of you. His body fell on top of yours carefully, supporting part of his weight on his arms, as he kissed you once again. He then moved to your neck, from your jaw to the base of your neck, hearing your soft moans every now and then.

You could tell it had an immense effect on him. Of course it did. He had waited all this time for you. You looked up at him, your faces only a mere inch from each other. You pleaded him with your eyes. You didn’t have to say anything, he knew.

You felt him move, positioning himself. He looked down at you once again, checking on you. You nodded your head once again. And suddenly felt him enter your core, slowly. Your mouth opened slightly almost instinctively, and John invaded it with his own. Your moans muffled by his lips, only escaping once he pulled away briefly to breathe.

“You alright?” His breathy tone escaping his mouth.

You nodded your head rapidly, and he continued his pace. You lifted your hips in desperation. You wanted to fill him whole. You bent your legs, wrapping them around his torso.

John exhaled as he noticed your new position, fastening his pace.

You moaned louder, pulling him into you with more force. You were driving him wild, and he made sure to let you know.

“Fuck…” his voice trailed off next to your ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

He was sending you over the edge. You tried to warn him but you couldn’t even form a single word, only senseless exhales.

“Cmon.” You hear his soft voice. “You can let go.”

His words set the tone for your explosion of nerves. You came underneath him, eyes fixed on his as he did the same like he was waiting for you.

As you both exhaled repeatedly, your breathing became one. You both moaned as he removed himself from you, both still very overstimulated. John looked into your eyes, brushing the hair that stubbornly kept clinging to your wet forehead.

He shot you that dumb, dashing smirk you knew so well, as he tamed your hair. You did the same to him. "What the matter?" you asked.

He laughed again. "You're something else." he finally said.

You flashed him an embarrassed smile. "Alright now." You got up, dragging a sheet with you, wrapped around your body. "Shower."

John flashed you a cheesy smile, getting up in an instant, pulling the sheet from your body, and following you down to the bathroom.

[peachesofteal]

How would Soap react if he saw that Cypher was being harassed or stalked by some other individual on base? This individual is completely unaware of Soap's fascination with and control over Cypher. Maybe she is being preyed upon by some stereotypically young and horny meathead and his buddies or an older officer who has never served in a combat role. What would Soap do to that person? What would he say to Cypher about it, if anything?

18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / no smut, Johnny beats the shit out of someone / soap x cypher masterlist

Early morning is one of Johnny's favorite times. He enjoys the quiet pace, the peace before chaos, the relaxed, subtle silence that slowly gets washed away as people start their days.

He particularly enjoys you in the early mornings, watching you make your way across base before any of your counterparts, settling into your work without turning on most of the lights, tweaking the nuances of your new routine. Cup of coffee, speciality keyboard, water bottle, your favorite jacket. Every morning, he marvels at how stunning you are, how perfect, beautiful in every way, down to each individual strand of your hair. He watches how you tackle the things thrown your way head on, sinking into your expertise that surpasses, he suspects, every one else in the room, sees how you treat everyone kindly, how you work so passionately and diligently. It makes his heart glow in his chest, love and obsession and possession burning in his blood, always pushing him closer to get a better look, encouraging him to linger where he can't be seen.

But this morning, something is different. You're late, far later than normal, and you seem... off. There's something off balance in your steps, something in your face that unsettles him, worries him. You power up your work station, arranging your belongings as you like, but instead of appearing happy, healthy like you normally do when you're about to settle into your day.... you look distressed.

He badges into the building without another thought. Anxiety is churning through him now, mixing with fear until his steps are more than hurried, and people are throwing him bewildered looks as he barrels down the hallway. Whatever it is, he'll fix it. He'll make it okay. He'll take care of you.

He stops short just inside the room where you work. Some people look his way curiously, but when he returns their probing eyes, they flinch away in a panic, burying their noses back in their computers, pretending he's not there. Good.

He's about to start towards your console when someone else does the same, a private that doesn't even work in this building, his eyes narrowed and hungry on where your elegant fingers fly across a keyboard. What the fuck?

You don't notice the private at first, which irks him, makes him even more worried, your lack of situational awareness scratching at him beneath his skull. It's a danger to be here in the first place, so close to an engagement zone, and the fact that you're less than aware does not make him feel good.

When you do, finally, look up and spot the oversized low rank that's heading your way, you stiffen, fingers slowing to a stop, throat bobbing with a swallow. He says your name, informal as all get out, and you shift in your seat, fingers coming together, one of your many tells. You're uncomfortable, he realizes. This bloke has been making you uncomfortable. He's chatting you up, or trying to, brushing his hand against your arm, the motion making Johnny see red, and the way his face twists, like he's in on some sick joke, tells Johnny all he needs to know. Slimy git.

"Private. What's yer business on this floor?" Johnny barks, louder than necessary coming to stand beside your chair, across from where the private lurks, chatter around the room dying out as you stare up at him, wide eyed and... relieved.

"Sergeant MacTavish, I wasn't aware the 141-"

"I didnae ask ye what ye're aware of, private. I asked ye what business ye have here." He repeats, inflection flat, and the private gulps, stammering out some bullshit excuse until Johnny is excusing him, encouraging him to make himself scarce.

Once he's gone, you release a long breath, shoulders slumping. He wants to take you in his arms, and hold you. Wants to comfort you, tell you he'd never let anything happen to you, that you'll always be safe, as long as he lives.

But he can't. He knows what a brazen display of affection would do to you, in this setting. How it would harm, instead of help. So, instead-

"Are ye alright, wee sweet?" He keeps his voice low, and your eyes slip closed.

"Yes. Thank you... Sergeant." You whisper.

"Do ye need a break?" He'll take you back to your room, if you do. Or his. Make up some excuse for Price and get you out of work for the day, in a blink. You shake your head.

"No, sir." He nods, squeezing your shoulder with slow, gentle touch, before giving you a long look, and taking his leave.

The pub that everyone frequents off base is a dingy thing. It's dark, and dirty, just the way Johnny likes it. Simon can smoke inside here, right at the bar, and he's just putting his first cigarette out when Johnny's target stumbles, half drunk from the toilets.

"That him?" His LT grunts, and Johnny nods, swallowing the rest of his beer in one go. Simon slaps a folded bill down next to the ashtray. "See you in five."

It's not hard, to get the private outside. He's more drunk than Johnny originally thought, and ushering him towards the back door is as simple as telling him he wants to have a chat, keeping his tone light and easy.

The private doesn't realize the danger he's in until he gets to the alley, and sees Ghost stepping out from the dark.

"Wh-what is this?"

"This-" Johnny hums, removing his jacket as Ghost grabs the private by the back of the neck, turning him. "is a lesson for ye."

"A lesson?"

"The civilian specialist. Cypher." Ghost tells him, removing his hand, letting him shift fully to face Johnny, stricken.

"She doesnae like ye. She doesnae want ye, and she never will. Dinnae ever, ever, touch my girl again." He pushes him, just a little, as a pre cursor, a warning for what's next. The private's eyes are wide, and scared, and Johnny smirks. "If I ever see you-" He swings, landing his fist across his jaw, hard enough that he knows the private is seeing stars, and Ghost steadies him for the next. "looking at her again-" he swings, again. There's a satisfying crack this time, the private's nose, blood spurting from the wound like a fountain, and the injured man howls, loud enough that Ghost is clamping a hand over his mouth to shut him up. "or talking to her-" he lands two more punches to his face, a jawbone hit, and eye socket. Nothing breaks, which is ideal, but he puts enough force behind them that he knows the eye will swell shut, for days. "even breathing near her-" His last punch is the knockout. It sends the private stumbling backwards, and Ghost slides out of the way, letting him fall, his body sprawling across the pavement like he's fallen from the roof. "I'll fucking kill ye. I'll kill ye, and bury ye in a nameless pit. Do ye understand?" He spits, and the private tries to say yes, but it comes out as a cry.

"Nod your head." Ghost instructs, and he does, miserably. "You tell anyone about this, I'll do worse than what Sergeant MacTavish is promising. We were never here. Copy?"

"Yes sir." The private blubbers, and Johnny shakes out some of the tension between his shoulders. Much better.

You're still awake. He's on edge, and was hoping to have a few hours in your room, watching you sleep, listening to the rise and fall of your chest, soothing himself with your presence, but instead, you're still awake, and he's at a loss before he accepts he can't fight it, and knocks on your door.

"Sergeant?" You're surprised to see him, caught off guard, and he's driven to soothe you, stepping forward inside your room, clicking the lock behind him.

"That private won't be bothering ye anymore." He tells you lowly, and your eyes go wide.

"I- What? Sir?" He pulls you into his body easily, your nose in his neck, his cheek pressed to the top of your head. He can feel the tension slowly leaking from you, his hand working broad strokes up and down your back, murmuring to you about he'll always keep ye safe, how he'll always take care of ye, and upon pulling away, he's incredibly pleased to see that you seem happy... even relieved. "Thank you, sir." You whisper, and he rubs a thumb across your cheek.

"I want ye to call me Johnny, Cy. Instead of Sergeant." Not instead of sir, but he doesn't think he needs to tell you that. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "It's late, ye should be in bed."

"I couldn't sleep." You confess, and he nods.

"I know. C'mon. I'll help ye."

[dduane]

Ma’am Im in the final third of writing my first draft for my novel (just passed 70k words!) do you have any advice about book marketing or self publishing? Ive been looking at something called Royal Road also in regards to those two things but no on I know has even heard of it…

First of all: congrats on your 70K!

"Do I have advice about marketing or self-publishing?" Wow, probably way too much, at this point. But for the moment let's limit ourselves to specifics. :)

I hadn't heard of Royal Road either, so I went and did some poking around. Below is an article that deals with some basic questions about them.

(Adding a cut here, because this gets long...)

Having read this article, I went and had a look at Royal Road's ToS, and their fee structures.

The fees were the first thing that gave me pause. Specifically, this; while RR has free options for readers, they don't appear to have any free options for writers. (If I'm wrong about this, I invite anyone with a pertinent link to point me at it.)

Now, the rule in writing as regards money is this: "The money flows toward the writer." This rule was codified years back by writer Jim McDonald and called Yog's Law (and over here at John Scalzi's blog there's a discussion of the Law and what it involves in these self-publishing days). It means that any kind of professional writing or writing-for-pay that involves the writer paying someone else to get their work where people can read it must routinely be carefully examined. You, after all, as the writer, are the source of the product and of the value in the product. If you're paying anybody to help get your writing seen, you need to look carefully at who controls whatever you're paying for along the road to being published.

So: if you use RR, you're paying them to show your work to people. (It seems a bit like AO3, except RR charges you for publishing with them.) Their ToS emphasizes that you own your work, but if you use them to publish, "...you grant Royal Road a non-exclusive, worldwide, sub-licensable, revocable license to use, display, promote, edit, reformat, reproduce, publish, distribute, store, and sub-license Your Content on the Services. This allows us to provide the Services, and to promote Your Content or Royal Road in general, in any formats and through any channels, including any third-party website or advertising medium."

Okay. So how, though, do you get paid for publishing on this site?

RR simply says that you're allowed to link your work to your Patreon or your PayPal account, and can accept donations that way.

Well, that's nice. But it doesn't strike me as much in the way of a payday. (Especially after what Patreon takes off its subscribers' earnings these days.)

What people are seeing this work?

Just Royal Road members, as far as I can tell.

And how many of those are there?

...I'm finding it surprisingly difficult to quickly determine that with any certainty. There are numerous sites that talk about millions of pageviews (assuming that's what "M" means these days): but views are not users.

And what is feedback worth, from that readership? ...Also hard to say.

This equation has way too many imponderables in it for my liking.

There are a number of articles scattered around that discuss numerous webpublishing options and which seem preferable. (This one seems to rank RR highest.)

...If I'm starting to sound unenthusiastic about this whole prospect, I think that perception would be correct. From where I'm sitting, RR looks to me kinda like paying for feedback... and from what might be a fairly small, and at the very least, limited, pool of contributors. I'm not at all sure how this experience would be likely to do anything much but help you feel better about yourself as a writer. Which, well, sure, that's nice. But is it value for your money?

More: how does what you get from RR actually help you transit into the wholly different experience of getting your work edited, getting a cover for your first novel(s), and learning about marketing out in the broader marketplace? That's unclear to me.

(I have to add one thing here as a general caveat. I'm in the Really Annoying Congestion stage of a head cold at the moment, and as a result my view of everything today is significantly jaundiced. But I also have to say that I doubt this particular assessment is going to change much after my nose stops running.)

So. If I was in your position, I'd be tempted to give the RR concept a miss and start inquiring into how best to use actual online publication resources that feed into a system where to get your work at all, people give you money.... because Writers Gotta Eat. (And yes, there's a whole self-publishing strategy that runs on the Nickel Bag paradigm: make sample work free online—sometimes through a retailer like the 'Zon—and then have all the samples "point at" work that people have to pay for. But that's another discussion.)

Anyway: hope this has been of some general help!