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#idk if i even succeeded but whatever
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I can’t stop thinking of how despite it baffling most non-brits, and most of the Hollywood a-list audience, David Tennant decided to do a skit on his little lockdown rpf show, make a bunch of puns that only people familiar with British culture would get, wear a kilt and be his usual manic self when hosting an internationally prestigious award show
fucking power move
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bangcakes · 3 months
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#personal#keep being like. if Only i had talked to him sooner. if Only i had been Friendlier sooner. but its like#Realistically.... probably wasnt ready. and also like. itd have to happen after school was over anyway bc 1. um i need to focus on school#and 2. how Awkward if i asked him out n he said no. or say we broke up or soemthing#like there were weeks i saw him every day. aint no way... i could handle the awkwardness of that#so ok ok ok. everything is fine JFJFJKFKFKFMFMFMFMFMF#i just have to remember not to get in my own head about it#like if i wanna message him i just should.....#its just..... hhhhHHhhhhh whyd this have to happen to me at 29. i could have been a happy spinster thank u NFJFJFJFJJFJFJFJF#but now ik what having an actual crush is like and oh wow is it painful. but also beautiful n fun. i just...... and lets face it this is#more than a crush. like its definitely Like like but i dont wanna say the Real L Word bc it seems..... idk JDJDJJDJD#but ive definitely um.... fallen. ya. ew JDJDKDJKDKDKDKDKS#but im just gonna follow my gut or whatever the fuck has been guiding me bc things have worked out so far#and like it wouldnt have without his participation. like ya....#im just like... what if he Forgets about me or like everything fizzles out#but then its like i Know if i see him again itll all come back.#bc in the summer i tried so hard to get over him (and kinda succeeded)... only to see him again in class and be like oh fuck oh no and the#n That Dinner. that was the final blow. i was so overwhelmed i got lost on the way home#which... the restaurant we were at is less than 10 mins from my house so you can imagine the uh Overwhelmingness#i cant even remember the original point of this but. i think we'll find a way ....... i say we but i should say 'i' bc until he tells me#that he likes me im gonna have to like Not Assume. hhhh#it doesnt help either that ppl were bringing up 'hes just not that into you' on twt bc Now im like#oh God. am i in that kind of situation???? i doubt it tho. i think hes just reserved. GAH. whatever happens happens
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pepprs · 1 year
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elton johns music is so fucking beautiful and heart wrenching and it makes me want to cry and i hate that i can’t like allow myself to emote to his music normally because if i cried over elton john then my mom would win. and so many things in my life are like if i x then my mom would win and i can’t do that. Lol
#purrs#w the elton john thing it’s bc she is an elton john megafan and cries over him every time she hears one of his songs or like sees a social m#media post from him lol so it’s like… if i cry over elton john too then she will have… idk. it’s not her succeeding in making me a clone of#her or whatever it’s like this weird thing where i can’t actually do what my mom wants me to do or like what my mom wants me to like even wh#when they align w things i genuinely want / like to do bc then… i’ll be more vulnerable to her? we’ll have a reason to bond? idk. i don’t t#think that’s it i don’t know why im struggling to put it into words but it squicks me out. so here i am standing in her room w my siblings b#Bc she called us all in to watch 2 marching bands perform a tribute to him in a giant stadium and she’s crying and i am genuinely moved by t#the performance and she wouldn’t even see if i cried but im standing there fighting back tears and hating myself and not understanding why#but i wish my mom was like. more normal about elton john. its not bad at all that she loves him so much it’s just… weird and suffocating fo#for me and it would be cool to find my own connection to his music without feeling u comfortable because i grew up having to call him#uncle elton and her dancing with us to his songs. lol. cringeeee childhood memories i guess idk#delete later#like literally goodbye yellow brick road is the single most devastating piece of music ever created.
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transmechanicus · 2 years
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Hnnng volleyball painful
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crimsongrimoire · 2 years
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love the thought that any eligible woman would see beidou and internally go. she's so hot. I want her to bench press me.
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neverendingford · 6 months
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#tag talk#today is a sheher day. I got ma'amed by a woman today. men seeing me as a woman is easy mode. women calling me sheher means I've succeeded#it's funny cause this past week I haven't even been shaving I've just been showing up to work mildly (mildly) scruffy and being he him#but like. this morning I woke up like alright were putting on the voice and showing up to work in purple lipstick. very cool#I looked very good today and kept the voice all day instead of dropping it halfway through like normal#idk. I need to shake things up regularly. if I stick with one thing too long people start to slot me into a preconceived notion.#people start to fit me into a traditional cultural role and ugh gross don't fucking do that to me.#I think I'm starting to get a better understanding of what my gender really is. because like. it's not actually fluid. it doesn't change#I'm in different aesthetic moods so I wanna look different. but my vibes are always consistent underneath.#people relate to me differently when I present differently but I relate to them the same either way. they see me as different but I'm not#I think that's one of the reasons I do appreciate the ability to look fem. because there's a certain kind of dynamic that people fall into#and it's a dynamic I don't get at all when I'm presenting masc and have my voice lower.#idk. I feel like when men aren't being misogynistic to me they're often more open and excited about things when I'm fem.#like. they will stop what they're doing and talk about their construction project. their old cars. their vintage tape deck.#it's an excitement and joy that is often socially unacceptable between men. but when they see me as a woman they feel comfortable with it#and ngl I love being able to morph into whatever people need in order to feel comfortable talking about things.
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Mutual | Lucien Flores x f!Reader
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summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.
pairing: lucien flores x f!reader
ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.
wc: 4.8k
an: i succumbed.
The only thing you and Lucien Flores have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner. 
Nothing else.
You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alex’s house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.
Something you’d vowed to do when she’d called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, she’d said, it’d be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along. 
So far, you’ve succeeded. You’d listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. You’d drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. You’d been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.
And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesn’t speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And you’d tell him to quit it if you weren’t doing the same thing. If you weren’t enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you don’t. 
You’re on your best behaviour, after all.
Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall he’s leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say, for whatever smoke he’s about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt you’ll throw back. 
He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.
He holds out the bottle of champagne he’d swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m playing nice.’
You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something you’re used to.
But maybe he’s trying, too. 
You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do. 
You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.
‘Come on. Want to show you something.’ 
Maybe it’s the wine, but you can’t find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden. 
Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.
‘What did you want to show me?’
You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.
His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.
‘Lucien.’
His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.
‘How beautiful you look tonight.’
You snort at him, disbelieving. He can’t be fucking serious.
‘Lucien, what the fuck -’
He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what it’s told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.
You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.
‘Get the fuck off me.’
He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what you’ve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldn’t be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldn’t moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldn’t be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldn’t grind back against him, shouldn’t be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who you’re with -
This time, you’re more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. He’s big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.
You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.
‘So pretty, baby,’ he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why won’t he stay away? ‘So pretty, wanting me like this -’
‘Stop,’ you hiss. It’s unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. ‘I don’t - I don’t want you like this -’
He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.
‘You don’t want me like this?’ He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. ‘No,’ he confirms. ‘Then maybe… like this.’
He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesn’t have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.
‘See? Beautiful.’ He murmurs. And oh, what you’d do. What you’d do to him. You’d pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and you’d make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat you’re feeling. You just can’t seem to move.
Can’t seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.
He smiles, cruelly.
‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, ‘We’re playing nice, remember?’
Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.
‘So wet,’ he breathes, ‘That what I’m doing to you?’
You shake your head no even though he can’t see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.
But that’s forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.
You forget that it’s wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.
‘Still don’t want me?’ he breathes against your skin.
A shallow breath escapes you.
‘Fuck you.’ You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -
‘Luce?’ Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.
‘Luce?’ Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.
The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.
‘Stop.’ You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.
He’s sick. You hate him.
You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. He’s scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.
‘Are you alright?’ He asks, brow creasing with concern.
You hum, clearing your throat before answering.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
Alex raises an eyebrow at you.
‘Did he say something to you?’ he asks.
‘Did he - what?’
‘Lucien. Did he upset you?’
You blink at him. Right. Play nice.
‘I - no. He didn’t. He was actually quite pleasant.’
Alex stares at you.
‘Pleasant?’
‘Yeah.’
You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly. 
You’re warm, so unbearably warm.
‘Is it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?’ You ask. ‘I feel kind of funny.’
Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.
‘Sure,’ he says, ‘Do you need anything?’
You smile weakly, shaking your head.
‘No,’ you reassure him, ‘That’s okay, thank you. I just need a moment.’
The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. There’s no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.
Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles. 
Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -
Like you’ve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway. 
You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.
‘You fucking - asshole -’ you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. ‘Get out.’
‘Wanted to check you were alright.’
You gape at him.
‘Fucking bullshit, Lucien,’ you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light. 
‘Seems like you’re okay, though,’ he continues, slouching against the doorframe. ‘Just look like you could do with some help.’
You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.
‘You’re fucking insane.’
‘Insane enough to fuck you.’
You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.
‘You are not going to fuck me.’
Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click. 
He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even you’re not sure what you want. Aren’t sure whether you can admit what you want. 
He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.
‘Then stop me.’
You don’t. You can’t as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight - 
His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how they’d look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -
You can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.
‘Please -’ it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.
‘Good girl,’ he says, ‘Playing so nice.’
He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.
‘Let’s get these off.’
He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.
He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.
‘Pretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,’ he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. ‘You ever made a man cry before?’
‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Wanna see if I can make you cry, too?’
He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?
‘So sweet,’ he murmurs, ‘You always this wet when someone teases you?’
You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.
‘No,’ you groan, ‘Get this wet when I’m about to make myself come.’
He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you. 
You can’t tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.
You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -
Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time. 
You cry out.
‘No,’ you whimper, ‘No, Lucien, please -’
‘Atta girl,’ he says, ‘I knew you could ask nicely. Knew you’d beg.’
Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but he’s too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -
Oh. Fuck. He’s big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.
He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - ‘Please, Lucien, please - fuck me -’ before he’s sliding home in one long stroke.
The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little ‘o’, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.
‘Fuck -’ you gasp, ‘Holy fuck, Lucien, oh my god -’
‘I know, baby,’ he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. ‘I know.’
He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.
You close your teeth over the chain that’s swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and it’s infuriating.
‘I hate you,’ you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.
‘Yeah,’ he gasps, ‘Feeling’s mutual, baby.’
He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.
‘Yeah, good girl,’ he pants, ‘Good fucking girl.’
You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess you’ve made, he’s made, entranced by the sounds you’re making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling he’s got, the desperation, the urge, the need -
He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.
But if he does, it’ll be over. The game will be up, because he won’t be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. He’s so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude - wants to fuck it right out of you.
Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.
‘Again,’ he grits out, ‘Again.’
‘Lucien -' you cry, reaching for him, ‘Lucien, fuck -'
He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.
He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something that’s not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.
He hasn’t even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You don’t look back at him as you leave, don’t utter a word.
That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how it’ll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he won’t be tearing you out of it later, won’t be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.
Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.
Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, you’ve thought about this, too.
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lonelywhalien22 · 3 months
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ten seconds to midnight
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pairing: jungkook x gn reader
rating/genre: second chance, fluff + sprinkle of angst or angst + sprinkle of fluff idk lol
summary: it's new year’s eve and you see your ex jungkook again for the first time since you broke up with him.
warnings: time and location are abstract af in this fic so don’t try to piece together distances or a timeline from anything in this; I wrote it in a more poetic fashion – it’s just a *vibe* if you will lol
word count: 4.6k
song(s) to listen to while reading: tis the damn season by taylor swift, ruin by shawn mendes, new year’s day by taylor swift
note: cleaned this up to share while I edit my next longfic – this is something sweet with a sprinkle of midnight angst. if you happen to enjoy this fic you’ll probably like what I have coming next so stay tuned. happy new year’s everyone and i’ll see you all next year <3
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Two years.
It had been two years since you and Jungkook had seen each other for the first time in that art history class – had studied together, hung out together, and eventually dated.
Six months.
It had been six months since you'd left suddenly. Unexpectedly.
Six months since those words were flung like daggers between the two of you, as if you’d been in a competition to see who could hurt the other more – who could prove they were less attached than the other was. Pretending as if all of those late nights, whispered confessions, soothing touches, and sweet kisses had meant nothing.
As if in some sort of war, the two of you had thrown, burned, abandoned, and trashed every last remnant of your relationship, overcompensating to try and prove that none of the feelings were real, that the vulnerability was all a lie, and that you'd actually been keeping your shields up all along.
It's the reason you moved further away than you'd originally planned after you graduated - why you’d signed on to the extra work at your job, the extra responsibilities…you’d even gotten a new phone number, claiming you wanted a completely fresh start.
It's the reason why your brief visit home during the holidays this year just wasn’t the same. Why Jungkook didn’t stop by with the rest of his family to drop off gifts or send cards. Why you no longer saw him at the store he always used to frequent at a specific time, the two of you in charge of picking up whatever your respective families had forgotten for Christmas dinner.
It seemed like you and Jungkook had finally succeeded in creating an irreparable chasm between the two of you.
So instead, you spent your short visit home for the holidays nervously traversing the town that still held memories of him. You pushed your cart through the local grocery store in a near state of paranoia, drove around town with the windows up, let others in the house open the door when you got the usual holiday greetings from family and friends.
You didn't miss him, you told yourself.
Even as you chose to go to his mom's favorite grocery store, or mindlessly drove by some of your old spots from when you two had been together - eagerly looked out the window of your old childhood bedroom whenever you heard the doorbell ring.
You didn't miss him.
Now it was New Year’s Eve, and you currently found yourself outside on a fire escape in the chilly night air, high above a city you were still getting to know, at a party you didn't want to be at, terrified to go back inside.
How exactly had that happened?
Let’s take a few steps back.
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The New Year’s Eve party was one put together by some old friends from college you’d reconnected with in the area.
None of them felt particularly close, but after spending last New Year’s Eve alone in your tiny studio apartment guzzling down an entire bottle of champagne and falling asleep before the ball had even dropped, you figured you’d try getting out and doing something in the city you were trying to call home for once.
As you walked into the crowded party space, you immediately scouted out the food and beverages area - your trusty diversion ever since you’d been to your first party as an underclassman in college, terribly shy and fearful of large crowds. You could still remember the moment you’d spotted Jungkook from afar for the very first time in a cramped living room all those years ago - laughing with his friends in a corner, his eyes on you for the tiniest of milliseconds before he went back to sipping whatever was in his red solo cup. It was his hands you’d noticed first, the handful of tiny tattoos scattered across his knuckles. You’d been so surprised when he’d said hello to you in a class one semester later, even more so when he’d smiled easily as he admitted to remembering you, the mural of tattoos on his right hand having spread, two new ones on his index finger and another near his wrist.
Back in the present, you grabbed a few cookies and some water, slowly sipping on your beverage of choice as you resolved yourself to silently watching the party from a distance. You were here – that was progress enough wasn’t it?
"Y/n?" you heard someone shout your name eagerly.
You were surprised since you didn't think you knew anyone at this party all that well, but the friendliness of the voice made you perk up.
Turning your head in the direction of the voice, you recognized the owner as an old friend from back home.
"Changkyun?" you exclaimed, shocked.
You hadn’t seen him in forever. He was so tall and almost athletic in his build now, that you almost didn’t recognize him.
"Hey! Wow, long time no see!" he smiled and immediately pulled you in for a hug. It nearly squeezed the surprise right out of you.
You two began a conversation and caught up, laughing over old memories and how much you’d each changed since last seeing the other before he interjected quickly.
"Now that I think about it, pretty sure I saw someone else you know around here..." he pondered out loud, scanning the crowd before he spotted who he was looking for.
"Oh yeah, Jungkook is here. Hey JK!"  you heard Changkyun quickly shout across the crowd towards the center of the room.
Before you could even fully register the name of your ex you glanced over to where your friend was calling, instantly spotting the back of a familiar head of hair, though it was longer than you remembered, the ends curling slightly from the length.
“J-Jungkook..." you repeated quietly, eyes widening as your brain registered what was happening.
"You good?" Changkyun asked, noticing the change in your expression. "Oh shit, wait - you two were together at some point weren’t you? Did I -"
The rest of his words evaporated into nothing but muffled noise as you watched the head of your ex swivel around, searching for the source of the voice that had called his name. He was still as mesmerizing as ever - those big brown eyes and soft lips. His hair fell into his eyes as he turned, and it made your view of him both painfully nostalgic and exhilarating all at once.
He was gorgeous. Just like you remembered.
You stood frozen, eyes wide in admiration, until Jungkook’s gaze singled in on you and broke you out of your trance. Quickly his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they lifted up softly upon recognizing you. You watched as he mouthed your name, as if he was asking himself whether or not it was really you. But it was all muddled within seconds as you realized your vision was beginning to blur. Your throat dried up and your head began to pound, and finally you realized you were about to cry.
For some inexplicable reason, you were upset.
"Damnit," you muttered to yourself, looking down, a tear slipping down your cheek against your will.
"Y/n, are you ok?" you heard Changkyun ask beside you, but you only shook your head quickly.
"I…I gotta go," you barely managed to choke out before turning away and pushing through the crowd as fast as you could. You quickly reached the front door and tumbled out, searching for the elevator before instead opting to take the stairs rather than risk standing around for any longer.
After wandering around aimlessly for a couple floors you came upon a shaky fire escape entrance and yanked open the doors, cool air slapping your face like a tide in a storm. It brought goosebumps to your skin - the chill of the night breeze, the cool steel grates that scraped against your thighs as you sat down, the hard brick of the wall against your back, but still - you found yourself grateful for the getaway.
You shimmied to the side so you couldn’t be seen from the glass door entrance and tried to make yourself comfortable in the space that remained, your legs slipping into a makeshift crisscross position. It was ridiculously cramped, and probably not at all safe, but at least it was quiet. The isolation gave you a chance to work through some of your thoughts without interruptions from annoyingly drunk partygoers.
"Why did I come here," you whispered to yourself, frustrated.
You knew how much you hated parties, and yet you'd gone anyways, only to find yourself in the very situation you’d been fearing since the holidays had come upon you – trapped with him just steps away and nowhere to run or hide.
You were terrified to face all the damage you’d left behind in your breakup with Jungkook - the stuffed closet full of baggage and hastily thrown together lies that you knew would all come tumbling down if you ever saw him again.
If you were being honest, you'd been running from this very scenario ever since you’d broken up with him. Because somehow, after all this time, he still wouldn't leave your head - his smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he could be incredibly cute but could also make you completely flustered at the flip of a switch.
The way he’d felt like a best friend, a confidante, and a lover all at the same time. How he’d made you feel so loved in a way only he could.
You had searched for that same feeling in others, from the occasional coworker to the random blind date, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't get yourself to fall out of love with him. And deep down, you think you always knew it. You'd be lying if you said there wasn't some part of you that saw a piece of him in everything you did and everywhere you went. You just couldn't lie to yourself anymore – not after seeing how you'd reacted from just seconds of seeing him in person again.
You took a few deep breaths, staring out at the lights and bustle of the city as your finger trailed longingly up and down one of the steel bars that separated you from the open air. Funny how the rest of the world just continued to go on, even when it felt like your little corner of it was being shaken to no end like a snow globe in a child’s hands.
But watching all the cars and pedestrians below carrying on with their lives – it also helped you put your worries into perspective - helped you keep calm.
Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by the cracking open of the fire escape door.
Please don't be a couple, please don’t be a couple, you thought to yourself. The last thing you needed were some handsy lovebirds interrupting your ruminations and reminding you of your own failures in the relationship department.
"Y/n?" you heard someone whisper softly. "Y/n, you out there?"
You’d recognize that voice anywhere - warm and soothing when it was singing along to a song on the radio, smooth and sweet like caramel when it was directed towards you, and immediately your body tensed.
The voice continued to call your name again and again, and you could hear his footsteps shuffling around closer and closer to you in the dark. Folding into yourself and squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed he didn’t notice you, or maybe he’d think you were some stranger - turn around and leave you out here all alone like you thought you wanted.
The footsteps continued until you heard the door open one last time, someone mumbling something too far away for you to hear before banging it shut again. You figured he didn't see you, deciding to look elsewhere, and your shoulders relaxed again.
"Didn't think I’d see you here," you suddenly heard loud and clear.
"Fuck," you shouted, too spooked to really think about it before your reflexes kicked in and you jumped, quickly turning towards the voice. "I thought I was alone out h-"
As soon as you looked up you saw that it was your ex. He stood feet away, one hand still lingering on the fire escape entrance.
"Jungkook."
You mumbled his name, aggravated as he raised a brow at your rare curse.
Quickly, you angled yourself back towards the view of the skyline, shaking your head profusely as you attempted to make him go away.
"I don't wanna see you."
"Believe me, this wasn't really how I pictured spending my night either," he retorted, and you couldn’t even lie - the words felt like a cold knife straight to your heart.
He took just one tiny step forward, hand falling from the rusted metal handle of the door.
"I couldn't just let you go off crying though."
"I wasn't crying," you spat out. It was your roughest voice yet, but Jungkook didn’t even flinch.
"You're still shit at lying," he said with a smirk instead. "We may not be together anymore, but I can still recognize the face you make when you're about to cry."
You wished he’d elaborate so you could practice never making that face again, but he just stood still, glancing back through the window. It both annoyed the heck out of you and made your heart flutter, knowing he could still read you like that.
He took another few steps towards you. Like a giant, his stature towered over you as he continued to stand, his feet careful not to step on your fingers.
"Anyways, you left this," he suddenly said, a chunk of metal entering your view. It was your phone.
How that happened, you had no idea. You must have placed it on a nearby table as you ate, distracted by you conversation with Changkyun. You grabbed it swiftly, careful not to touch his hand in any way, but you still couldn’t help but notice the decorative ink that now danced all over his fingers, the way his skin reddened in the cold.
Did he notice you still used the phone case he’d bought you for your birthday?
"Thanks," you told him curtly instead, avoiding his gaze.
You kept quiet, expecting him to finally go away now that he’d returned your phone but instead the silence lingered, Jungkook’s feet shuffling awkwardly.
“Come back inside Y/n,” he said, tone gentle, the edges of his jawline softening.
“Why?”
Jungkook looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Changkyun’s worried about you,” he mumbled eventually. “…and besides, it’s dangerous - sitting out here all alone like that.”
“I’ll be fine. No need to worry about me.”
You could feel his frustration brewing as he looked at you in silent incredulity, a cloudy huff leaving his lips in the night air before you felt him sit right down beside you. His denim-clad knee scraped yours just faintly as he settled into a comfortable position. Together the two of you took up nearly all the space on the tiny ledge.
"You want a drink?" Jungkook offered coolly, a cup of red liquid seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
It was tempting, but you hesitated. After all, you weren’t looking to get inebriated while on a shaky fire escape with your ex nearby to bear witness to some sort of embarrassing, drunken confession of longing. You generally preferred to stay sober anyways.
"It's just cranberry juice,” he told you, as if he could read your mind. “They have a bunch of it to mix with the cocktails."
Fuck.
Not only did he remember how much you hated alcohol, but also that cranberry juice was your favorite?
"You're the only person I've ever met who drinks that stuff," he used to always joke.
Back in the present, you took the cup from his hands, finally looking at him to search his face briefly, but his expression gave nothing away. You took a sip to busy yourself.
A blanket of silence fell between you. It wasn’t awkward or even necessarily tense, but it didn't feel like it was truly quiet either. Instead, it was more like there were a bunch of unsaid words bouncing around between the two of you, trying but failing to break out.
"What're you thinking about?" Jungkook asked innocently, looking down at one of his hands before focusing back on the view of the city skyline.
"Nothing," you shook your head tersely, only to hear the tiniest of hums escape his lips out of disbelief.
"So you're outside all alone, staring at the sky in the freezing cold and nothing's wrong? You sure about that?"
You closed your eyes, more and more memories rushing back to you – like the times Jungkook used to find you alone out on the campus green, just sitting with the palm of your hand pressed against your cheek, pouting as you stared at some point in the clouds. Or how he used to poke you on the nose whenever you laid your head in his lap and stared into space, that same pensive look on your face. His words were always the same every single time.
"What're you thinking about?"
It was beginning to drive you crazy the more you thought about it – how, even after all this time apart, he was still able to pick up on little things like that.
And it made you feel even crazier when you thought about the fact that you still remembered those little things about him too.
Trying to keep yourself from becoming any more affected by his words, you tried a slightly more aggressive approach.
"Well maybe I would be fine if I was actually alone."
But he only turned to face you at that remark, another deep sigh escaping his lips.
"Y/n/n.." he used your nickname this time, and he sounded regretful, like your words had actually stung. "Look, I just wanna make sure you're ok."
"I'm am ok," you said back harshly.
Another bout of silence fell between you at that – this one like a cascade of bricks instead of a gentle blanket.
"Why are you acting like I'm the one who did you wrong?" Jungkook piped up, exasperation inching into his voice.
"Last time I checked, I told you I wanted to be left alone."
"You know that's not what I'm talking about,” he said, undeterred by your attempt to change the subject.
You didn’t respond immediately, not ready to talk about your breakup out in the open.
You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready.
"I told you I wanted to experience other places…" you started after a minute or so, quieter than expected. "You know I never wanted to stay so close to home."
"And I get that, but one week?" Jungkook asked incredulously. "How could you only tell me a week before you left? I thought I meant more to you than that."
You huffed out loud in frustration, unsure how to respond.
It was true - you did tell Jungkook about your big move only seven days before you left. You did it out of fear.
Because you were scared.
You and Jungkook had gotten so close after only two years, and you’d never felt that way about a person before - you’d never felt in love.
It scared you - especially when you thought that maybe you were just getting too attached, too quickly.
If there was one thing you hated, it was dependency. Needing someone else felt like an indefensible weakness, and you were afraid that being with him, needing him, would only hold you back.
All you’d wanted was some space to cool off and clear your head - evaluate how you felt from a distance in solitude, like you always did when you felt overwhelmed by your emotions. When you finally did tell Jungkook about the move, you were hoping you two would just dial things down a little - keep in touch remotely while you took some time to think about your life post-graduation.
But instead, the whole thing had turned into one big shouting match.
Hurtful words had been thrown like weapons on both sides, and by the time the dust had settled, you were driving hundreds of miles away.
You’d ignored his calls, deleted his texts, and even refused to listen to appeals from your mother, who still kept in touch with his family. Distancing yourself away from him had only made your worst fears become a reality, and in turn made it even easier to run away from it all rather than confront your fears head on.
Avoidance was the only way you knew how to approach things that were hard - uncomfortable.
And maybe that's why you were sitting here on this damn fire escape in the first place.
"I just wanted some space," you defended yourself.
"But so suddenly? Was there something I did wrong?" he asked you dejectedly.
You turned to look Jungkook in his eyes, and behind his seemingly calm face you could see real pain. You really had hurt him, and in that moment you wished you could tell him the truth – that he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd done everything right, but you just hadn't known how to deal with the intensity of your feelings.
"Did you really have to change your number? Pretend like I didn't even exist?" Jungkook spoke up again.
"That's not fair," you shook your head. "You really hurt me with your words when I finally did tell you."
"Because you broke my heart," he exclaimed, getting visibly upset. "You told me you never loved me - that all of those memories, all those moments we shared...” he looked down for a moment. “You said none of it mattered. That I’d ‘taken it the wrong way.’"
"I didn't mean any of that," you blurted out loud.
"That's what I told myself," Jungkook started, "but what was I supposed to think when you completely cut me out of your life?"
You sniffled silently, unable to come up with any more excuses.
Simply put, you’d both really hurt each other.
As you focused back on all the lights down below, legs beginning to cramp, you felt a curtain of warmth envelop your shoulders.
Jungkook had draped his denim jacket across your body. You couldn’t help but fixate on how the fabric was soft and worn, and it smelled just like him - that same combo of body wash and cologne that you still couldn’t erase from your memory.
"Are you two dating?" you heard him ask quietly.
"What?" you asked, confused before putting two and two together. "Me and Changkyun? No…"
The question took you aback. What did it matter to him anyways?
"I came alone and ran into him unexpectedly," you explained further. "Why are you here?"
"An old classmate invited me," he told you casually, contemplating his next words for a moment before continuing. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping that maybe I'd see you though..."
You felt your heartbeat quicken at the casual admission, but you didn’t have much time to think about what it meant as he smoothly moved on.
"What about you? I thought you hated parties."
You sighed, hesitant to be so honest but feeling a strange sense of courage regardless.
"Well normally I do, but last New Year’s just...wasn’t all that great," you started.
"How so?"
You took a deep breath before continuing, counting off the reasons on your fingers. "Well, I was alone. And it sucked. I didn't even make it to midnight before I just fell asleep. So I decided this year I'd try going out instead."
"And how's it going?" Jungkook asked, the tiniest hint of a twinkle in his eye. “Tonight, I mean.”
Was he flirting with you right now?
"Not sure yet…" you played along, "but I'm still awake so that's a plus."
Again you sat quietly for a few minutes, neither of you making a move, not a single word shared between the two of you. This time the silence was comforting. You became hyper aware of his knee brushing against your own, and your insides felt so warm that suddenly the cold air didn’t faze you at all.
Maybe, just maybe…
Your quiet stalemate was interrupted when the fire escape door slammed open and the sound of drunken giggles grew louder and louder, a shaggy head of hair sticking itself outside to ogle at the two of you.
"Oh, shoot, looks like this one's taken babe," the random guy shouted in a slurred voice.
"Well hurry up and find somewhere else, I can't wait any loooonger," some poor girl whined, just as tipsy.
They disappeared as quickly as they came, the door shutting with a bang, and you and Jungkook couldn't help but burst out into laughter.
"Was their plan to screw each other on the balcony?" you heard him utter your exact thoughts aloud. Not so innocent memories crept into your mind for a split second before you squashed them.
He's still your ex, you reminded yourself.
"Not sure,” you said instead with a chuckle, “but it certainly looks like we’ve reached that point in the evening where I typically remove myself from the situation."
You pulled your phone out to check the time. "It's midnight,” you realized.
You two had been out there together for over half an hour.
"Guess that means it's time to go, huh?" you heard him ask.
"Yeah…"
Neither of you moved to get up though.
You weren’t expecting to still be with Jungkook at this point, and suddenly you were unsure of what to do. How did one say goodbye to an ex?
How did you say goodbye when you didn't want to?
"Y/n?" Jungkook said your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked at him with bated breath, urging him to continue as fireworks began to go off in the distance.
"Um…" he stalled, clearly trying to find the right thing to say next.
Hating the silence, you improvised, taking off his jacket to give back. The warmth that previously enveloped you disappeared immediately, and it left you feeling strangely empty.
"Here, let me give you back your jacket before I forget."
"Oh…yeah, thanks," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
As he leaned over to grab it, you quickly kissed his cheek before backing away and looking down, brushing the hair out of your face.
"Sorry if that was weird," you started, "but I just…wanted to apologize. For everything I put you through back then."
To your surprise, Jungkook shifted a little closer to you, lips pulled into a soft smile as he shook his head. "You don't deserve all the blame. We both said things we shouldn't have, and I'm sorry too."
Butterflies burst free in your belly, and the fireworks that lit up the sky seemed to form a faint outline around Jungkook’s head as he stared at you, eyes boring into your own, keeping you frozen in place.
His hand slipped into yours lightly, and you looked at them for a split second, fingers intertwined in warmth as he spoke. Slowly but surely, you felt yourself drawn towards him in a familiar lure, like a moth to a flame.
Like a wanderer finding their way back home.
"Any chance we could just pretend like it's ten seconds to midnight again?" you asked shyly, and he instantly cracked the biggest smile you’d seen from him all night.
Jungkook said nothing, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.
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graychrissy · 3 months
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🌊Digital Detox + Egyptians lucid dreaming method 🌊
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Idk what to put on the title of this post so I wrote digital detox and I have copy pasted the main lines.
In the ancient Egypt the Egyptians use to have lucid dreaming alot and it was extremely easy for for them not just Egyptians but it was also mention ancient Indian scriptures.
You’re probably wondering ‘what’s the secret’? The real problem is often NOT your technique. It’s actually another issue that no amount of techniques, articles, reality checks, supplements or uncomfortable masks is going to fix. It’s your ‘inner game’. Specifically, your subconscious motivation and reward circuits, and ‘dopamine cycle’. Travel in your mind for a second, to ancient Egypt.
There were no smart phones, internet connections, computer animated action movies or virtual reality headsets.
Your brain back then would have produced a healthy amount of dopamine as a reward for pretty basic things like eating, working, exploring, and taking some time to relax or meditate
Now our average attention spans are literally less than 7 SECONDS. It’s probably a lot lower than that, and It’s declining every single year with the rise of new, highly addictive and stimulating social media apps and platforms. When was the last time you meditated for over 90 minutes? Have you ever? I’m not saying you have to do that to lucid dream, but this sort of practice was very common 5000 years ago. In fact, it was weird NOT to do that. And herein lies the main problem.
Your brain is ‘fried’ with an overly stimulated dopamine pathway. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter that stimulates the feeling of WANTING to keep doing something. It’s the reason you keep scrolling through Instagram, or keep refreshing your Facebook feed to see if there are any new comments or notifications. But it’s also the SUBCONSCIOUS reason you aren’t able to lucid dream easily. In the last decade especially, there have been billions of dollars spent by big tech to essentially ‘addict you’ to their platforms. Why? Money. The more time and energy you spend on platforms like that, the more money they make. So the task has been given to artificial intelligence. The AIs often just get trained and told a few basic things: 1: Get people to spend more time on the platform 2: Get people to keep coming BACK to the platform as often as possible The ‘AI’ pays almost NO attention to what that would do to your mental health, attention span, motivation, emotions, or really anything else. Much LESS attention is paid to the effect it has on your ability to focus, or do things like, say, lucid dream. Now, the ‘dopamine cycle’ is one part of the problem, but it’s actually pretty easy to fix. There are several little pieces to what I call the ‘modern brain puzzle’. Things that just weren’t a problem 5000 years ago. You can see some of this playing out in children today. On average, children or people under the age of 15, find it MUCH easier to lucid dream than adults do. It’s because at that age, their dopamine system has not been damaged too much. This is of course changing now, as more and more children are having access to smartphones, but it’s an interesting point. In fact not only does the dopamine problem affect your ability to lucid dream, it also affects your ability to WANT to lucid dream (consciously and subconsciously). Specifically I’m talking about your motivation and focus. And you guessed it, there’s your number one cause of problems when trying to meditate, practice techniques like the WILD, or recall your dreams.
After reading this paragraph or stanza whatever,I noticed something,as a kid I had lucid dreams alot with just putting intentions.
My first lucid dream was at around 7-8 years old,and I was sinking when I realised I was dream and I tried controlling my dream and even succeeded,and I was probably there for about 10 minutes playing with underwater creatures and mermaids.
And till 7 grade I use to have alot of lucid dreams but after that I was allowed to use phone and so I was always invested in phone like all the time. By the way lucid dream was pretty normal for me and I pretty much forgot about it and never really paid attention to lucid dreaming. And then I rarely had any lucid dreams, probably 4 times ever since 8 grade and I've noticed every time I lucid dream it's always whenever I don't use any social media.
In 9 grade my phone was taken again because my mother noticed my social media addiction. And after few months I again start to lucid dream for fun easily and effortlessly but during COVID I was again allowed to have my phone and then a new laptop so now my life was revolving around social media again and for the past few year I only lucid dream whenever I don't get to use my phone more then 2 days.
Idk bout y'all but I wasn't allowed to use phones or laptop till 8th grade so the only thing I knew was TV which I only watched after coming home so like my mind was most of the te bored because I didn't had anything to keep it entertain which made it easy for me to observe around looking for things to do.
So how can you reverse the ‘dopamine problem’ and several of the other issues modern life has created? By the way: This is NOT about destroying your phone and going back to live in a cave. There are actually several powerful habits you can install, that will let you KEEP using your phone, laptop etc, but without these harmful effects. Here’s the simple solution to more lucid dreams: 1. Reverse engineer your life and remove distractions, manipulation, ‘dopamine hijacking’ and harmful blue light exposure from your daily routine (along with some other ‘problem patterns’) 2. Get inside your subconscious brain and rewire yourself to WANT to practice lucid dreaming, and to effortlessly do reality checks at the right time, without even trying 3. Learn powerful ‘all day awareness’ and ‘lucid living’ techniques that give your brain superpowers in the fight 4. On top of THAT foundation, learn the most effective techniques and concepts, use our tools to stay motivated, and experience lucid mastery within 14 days. Let’s dive a little bit deeper: First, you have to ‘reverse engineer’ the problem. This can be complicated if you don’t know what you’re doing, but we’ve laid everything out step by step for you. If dopamine addiction is part of the problem, we have to break that addiction first. Then comes your mindset, and your motivation pathways. You need to actually feel GOOD when you practice these things. I see so many people saying they’re struggling to remember to do reality checks, or they just don’t want to wake up at ‘weird times’ to practice. Don’t worry, you won’t have to. It will feel good, and you’ll ENJOY practicing these things. Next, your subconscious mind. It’s SO important to fix your internal beliefs about lucid dreaming, because the chances are you have ‘internal blocks’ about becoming lucid. They’re easy to pick up, but a bit harder to ‘unlearn’. The system shows you how to ‘unlearn’ them, and install new, powerful and self affirming beliefs into your mind. This gives your brain lots more motivation to keep trying. Now, one of the most common things I hear people say is that they can’t REMEMBER to keep doing reality checks. It’s linked to the dopamine problem we mentioned earlier, but it’s also connected to a few other psychological principles that we’ll get onto. We’ll give you a new framework to ENJOY reality checks, remember them without any annoying reminders, and actually get them to SHOW UP in your dreams, 9 out of 10 times. And then finally, we’ll build the most effective techniques, methods and concepts on top of that new, strong foundation. Of course, I’m simplifying this here, but that’s the outline.
Here are some videos that may help.
youtube
youtube
If you want to know more about it or get the steps to lucid dream you can buy the book or go through a long step to get it for free but the procedure is very long and probably only for Iphone user.
You find some good articles ways to do the 'reverse dopamine' thingy.(I donot trust my research on this topic cuz I got confuse)
You may use Adambja's tape to reprogram your subconscious and this hacking the matrix tape the comments under the video was so good and I found this tape on someone's success story. You can use this two tapes to reprogram your subconscious and of course psych-k.
This is pretty much all you need digital detox,observing your surroundings and subconscious reprogramming to change your belief or assumptions.
And this will make you even more motivated that you are working on your goals as many of us have the access of devices it's hard for us to keep up with all this method and it's not like we are always busy if we are we wouldn't be scrolling through Tumblr and Pinterest all the time. If you read the the copy pasted part you'll see what I mean.
Edit: I forgot to mention it 🥲 if we follow do this we CAN HAVE lucid dream everyday.
Egyptians lucid dreaming tea
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This will be quick,so I went to my aunt's place with my mother and my aunt's ran out of tea powder/leaves so she used her daughter's blue lotus tea and after getting home I took a nap and I HAD A FOKING LUCID DREAM,so basically I didn't knew that it was the tea until I was doing some research on LD and found out that in ancient Egypt they use Blue Lotus tea and I found some review about it on YouTube and people had very vivid dreams aswell. This tea basically put you in REM which y'all probably know about.
But I don't like tea😐,so if anyone have interest you can try I honestly want to but my hate for tea is on top on the list of top 5 things I hate,you can find them online people even use Blue Lotus in vape😐not encourageling y'all to smoke but if anyone does you can.
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clockwayswrites · 6 months
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Masked
*cough* so... idk, writing muse possessed me? Was joking with Moku that Dick has so had sex with his domino on and this happened? Danny/Dick, no actually sex, but it's right after they talk about it blatantly and crudely.
-
“I can’t believe you kept your mask on the whole time,” Phantom said, tracing his fingers around the edge of the black domino.
“Secret identity,” Dick said with a laugh that he hoped sounded believable.
From the way Phantom’s brows furrowed together, Dick didn’t think he had succeeded.
Phantom kissed the corner of Dick’s mouth before he rolled off the bed, taking the blanket with him. “I know. But just seems, fuck, what’s that word? Disjointed? That’s not, it… whatever, I can’t be expected to think right now—”
“I’m surprised you’re even walking,” Dick said honestly and with a smirk. He rolled over onto his side to watch his teammate dig around in their discarded clothing.
Phantom flicked him off. “Seems at odds when we just fucked—”
“Several times.”
“Yes, several times. So it just seems at odds I guess to care about a mask when I’ve still got your cum dripping out of me.”
“None of the others would believe me that you’re so crude,” Dick said.
“I know,” Phantom replied with a fanged smile. “And stop it, I know that look. Down boy. I am fucked out. I’m going to go take a hot shower and go to sleep.”
“You could stay,” Dick offered, the words out of his mouth before he even realized he was saying them. He meant it though. “I’ll be good. No fucking. Just… you could take a shower here and stay. I’ll change the sheets.”
Phantom smiled at him, blanket and his effects clutched to his chest. There was a a somber edge to that smile that made Dick bite his lip and look away.
“That sounds really nice. But I think… the mask on and fucking is one thing. I get it. I get it and I enjoy it and I’m fine with it. But there’s too many secrets between us for me to have room to sleep on that bed with you, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, sure, of course, it was silly—” Dick stopped talking as Phantom rested a hand on his cheek. He looked up in time for Phantom to press another kiss to his lips.
“It was a sweet idea,” Phantom said, “Just one we can’t have.”
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Who the Fuck is Erzebet?!?!? (the vampire not the murderer)
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I don't know.... there's something off about her. i mean clearly, erzebet is a genocidal-torturing-murdering madwoman who wants all to worship her bc she's a "goddess". but is she tho?
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like- stay with me on this. her entire story just seems.. off. it just feels so weird and contrived and strange. like she obviously succeeded in blotting out the sun and transforming into a creepy lion lady but- why is this the first time we're ever hearing of her? if she's been alive since Sekhmet- why the fuck hasn't she decided "oh hey i'm a god- i'm gonna take over the world in 410 instead of 1746 (or whatever the year is in nocturne)"
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like why didn't she challenge dracula to a du-du-duel to show the world she is a goddess? why didn't the belmonts or alucard or fucking dracula or carmilla herself ever mention that one vampire who's also kind of a god and wants everyone to know.
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idk.. like obviously most of this can be chocked up to they probably didn't have nocturne even in their minds at the time of castlevania or they just had very few ideas. and fair enough, that's totally fine, i can absolutely look past that...
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what i CAN'T look past is the fact that every seen erzebet is in, every character who talks about her in adoration, every chance she mentions she's a god and drank Sekment's blood- just feels suspicious. i feel like she's lying. i feel like there's something even more dark and disturbing and creepy about who she is that we'll find out about later.
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I just don't believe erzebet. I don't believe what the show is telling us. I don't think she's a god. I think everyone else thinks she's a god. I think she's convinced herself she's a god after so many years. but i think there's something else there. something creepier. something more unnerving.
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if i had to guess- i think she took some sort of old magic to get the powers she has. or made some deal with a demon or something to be able to literally blot out the sun. but one way or the other, i think erzsebet has clearly and utterly lost her mind and any sense of reality. she's beautifully and dangerously unhinged.
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I'm genuinely so excited to see what happens next with erzsebet. she's a fascinating character and one of the first villains i can remember genuinely unnerving me. she's horrifying but i also can't stop looking at her. like lowkey I'd probably worship the devourer of light too.
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callmefloryy · 2 months
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Okay I just finished chapter 5 and I have some opinions about it so obviously there will be spoilers down below
FIRSTLY I like the chapter because it gives more into the dynamic of Hades, about how the characters interact with each other and everything
But there's one thing that I'm a bit icky about is that the characters in Hades don't care/ actually hurt the MC and the MC not really taking it to heart(even tho it's kinda a big deal because they could've died but eh I guess)
Don't get me wrong, I think this is actually good writing because they stuck with the concept of Hades being a country where it's people have no trust for each other or other devils from other countries, and doesn't make them all fall in love with the MC in first sight
BUT their actions and words actually hurt if you think about it from MCs perspective, barbatos poisoning them even though he's the only person to be nice to them in the early chapters and Leviathan basically saying minhyeok and MC deserved to die at Gabriel's hand because they were too weak (I am aware that he said so to spite them to fuel his kink or whatever but I personally think it has crossed the line for MC), but MC just forgives and forget if the character is "hot and sexy"
(I'm only saying this because I actually really like all Hades characters from their conversation in chats, but I can't see them as I used to now because I really started to not trust them lmao, and I used to dislike Bimet but suddenly I like him now after this chapter)
AND WHAT IM BASICALLY SAYING IS this is such good angst material if the MC absolutely distrust the Hades characters, like they're genuinely afraid of them because they tried to kill them multiple times and even almost succeeding (but Leviathan seems to like it when people distrust him?? Idk if it's just a kink or he genuinely wants people to hate him) AND I WISH THAT THE MAIN STORIES WILL TELL US HOW THEY GAIN THE MCS TRUST BACK and don't just gloss over what they did like it's no big deal
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uglypastels · 10 months
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okay how about something comforting and cutesy like Eddie just absolutely coddling you and babying you since you had a rough day, idk maybe he helps calm you down
i swear i need an eddie right now. especially needed one yesterday. thank you for the request! i did my best (might be a bit rusty since i haven't written properly in a while )
warning: reader is having a hard day. exhaustion. idk. nothing else i think
masterlist. || join the Stranger Things taglist
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Eddie knew something was up the second he stepped past the threshold. He could practically smell it in the air… or maybe the burned bitterness was coming from the kitchen as a dark grey cloud of smoke. Or maybe he figured it out by listening to your curses at the oven and the pitch-black baking dish you threw down at the counter. The metal clanged loudly, causing you both to flinch. 
‘Baby?’ Eddie asked apprehensively, not wanting to startle you. He half succeeded as you turned around harshly but immediately softened your features at the sight of him. ‘Are you alright?’ 
You don’t answer since both of you already know the answer. All you do is take the steps to break the distance between the two of you, lips are dragged down into a horseshoe-shaped frown, and tears threatening to burst at any second. Eddie catches you into a tight embrace, pulling you in. 
‘Hey, shh, it’s ok.’ He had just returned from work and must have been driving with the windows down because his hair smelled of the summer wind. 
‘I just wanted to make you some dinner, but it got burned– I’m so sorry, honey.’ You sniffed out. 
‘Is that all?’ He felt it was quite an extreme reaction for a burned casserole [or whatever the ashes in the dish were supposed to be. Truly impossible to tell by the state it was in.] Then again, he knew how much work you put into your cooking and especially after a long day having something go this wrong could be the last straw, but knowing you, there must have been something before already to put you in this mood. 
‘It’s just been… a lot.’ You didn’t feel like talking about it. Would much rather forget everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. 
‘I understand, baby. Do you wanna sit down for a bit?’ He pulled away slightly to look you in the eyes–which were now red and beginning to puff up. Besides that, he saw how frazzled your hair had gotten throughout the day and how tired you looked. He could only assume he looked about the same, if not worse. 
‘No,’ you wiped at your eyes, ‘I should make us some dinner. There should still be some—’ 
But Eddie was quick to cut you off. ‘Oh, no. You’re not cooking anymore today. C’mon, you need to rest. We can order something.’ He already saw your frown reappear, not happy with that idea. After all, you really wanted to do something nice for Eddie. Though now the surprise aspect of it all was gone anyway, you might as well enjoy a nice takeout. Eddie grabbed your hand, swinging it side to side. ‘What do you feel like? I could personally kill for a pizza right now.’
‘Pizza is fine.’ You nodded, but Eddie wasn’t too sure just yet. 
‘Sure? Or are you just saying that because I suggested it?’ 
‘Can’t it be both?’ You brushed some of his hair out of his face. Even though he had put it in a ponytail, most of the shorter strands framing his face had come loose. Eddie looked at you for a moment before nodding.
‘The usual, then?’
‘Mhm,’ you simply replied. Then Eddie told you to get comfortable on the couch before placing an order. You sat down feeling tired and restless simultaneously; there was so much you needed to get done, but you had no energy for any of it. By the time Eddie returned, your eyelids were already betraying you, becoming heavier and heavier. The shift of weight beside you was just enough to stir you from the nap. 
‘Sorry,’ Eddie whispered. ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’ 
‘I wasn’t asleep.’ You rubbed your eyes, sitting up straight next to Eddie. 
‘Of course not.’ He chuckled and took this opportunity to bring you in for another tight hug. He practically pulled you into his lap, kissing your cheek, mumbling, ‘I missed you today,’ between a kiss here and there. 
‘Missed you too.’ You kissed him back. ‘And I’m really sorry about dinner, again.’
‘I’m banning apologies in this house tonight. You have nothing to be sorry for.’
‘I nearly burned down the kitchen!’
‘That’s an entirely different problem, then. We still get to have dinner, but if you had burned the kitchen down… ‘ he exhaled deeply, and something inside him lit up at the sight of your smile cracking through the hard shell the day had built up around you. For the next half 20 minutes, he kept making dumb jokes to get your smile to grow bit by bit. Most of the time, you would roll your eyes at him or smack him playfully on the arm, but anything was better than tears. 
Then the doorbell rang, and almost automatically, you got up, but only a few inches off the sofa before Eddie grabbed you by the hips.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ 
‘To get our food?’ You said whilst the doorbell rang again.
‘No, you’re not,’ he pulled you back onto the seat and got up. ‘You’re resting.’
‘But you should be resting too!’ You wanted to shout out, but he had already left the room to open the door for the delivery boy. A minute later, Eddie returned holding several takeout boxes that contained no pizza, but you knew exactly what it was instead. 
‘I thought we decided on pizza?’ You asked, puzzled as he put the food on the coffee table before you. 
‘Yea, but I thought you might like this better.’ Eddie shrugged, beginning to unpack the boxes. ‘Felt like it would do a better job making you feel better than pizza… usually does, at least. But if you’d prefer pizza then I can still quickly call–’ 
‘No, it’s perfect. Thank you.’ You kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you for everything.’
the end.
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thank you for reading! please support your (not so) local writers with comments and reblogs <3 it means the world. also, I love to hear what you thought of the fic. asks are always welcome
consider leaving behind an anonymous review :p
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ivymarquis · 11 months
Text
Bonded
Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader
Rating| T
Word count| 892
Tags| COD-esque levels of violence, non-descript references to SA,
Anyway idk what this is but I had a thought and I wrote it down. Enjoy. Or don’t, it’s whatever either way.
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You come back to the world of the living with ringing in your ears.
Dazed and disoriented, your brain struggles to piece together everything that just happened in the last 30 seconds.
You and Ghost were supposed to be clearing a room when you’d realized a moment before disaster that it was rigged to blow. The two of you scrambling to put as much space between yourselves and the inevitable detonation; You’d succeeded, but not entirely.
You aren’t blown to pieces and it feels like you have as many limbs and fingers and toes leaving the room as you did entering- that was good.
Ducking around a corner had shielded you from part of the blast but not all of it. Enough to knock you both on your asses.
Everything is white noise, staring forward blankly and only distantly realizing you’re staring at Ghost because the black and white of his balaclava is such a stark contrast to the surroundings.
You can’t tell if he’s conscious, but he’s not moving. One of your hands outstretches towards him, so focused on your squadmate that you miss the sound of approaching boots crushing the debris littering the ground.
Disoriented as you are, you don’t hear the “She’ll be more fun to get information out of” but you do feel the hands wrapping around your ankles.
A startled yelp escapes you, instinct having you scrambling to get to your teammate. There’s certain things that hardwire into the brain, and even as out of it as you are, you know intrinsically that nothing good awaits you being separated from Ghost. The 141 is packbonded, the hours spent in close and often unpleasant quarters forging a bond that supersedes anything else.
Your sound of protest seems to be what brings Ghost to, and he is far more with it than you are.
Whoever has a grip on your ankles settled far too quickly into the idea that you are in no state to fight back and Ghost is down for the count. You’re just close enough even after the foot or so that he’s dragged you that Ghost is able to grab a hold of your wrist.
Where the enemy soldier’s grip was loose, Ghost’s is firm and unwavering. If you were more with it, you’d be laughing at the notion of feeling like a rope toy caught between two dogs.
You’re able to free one of your ankles at the expense of the other one being clamped down on with two hands. Kicking blindly, you can feel yourself making contact against his chest but you’re not entirely certain how much damage you’re doing.
Ghost yanks you towards him with one hand, his other digging around until he finds a knife.
The first yank catches the soldier off balance as you slide across the floor closer to your Lieutenant. The soldier doesn’t lose his grip on your ankle, staggering forward the few steps to keep a hold of you. The second yank pulls you half underneath him, Ghost raising to his knees and lunging in attempt to slash at the enemy soldier still holding to your ankle.
You are grabbing at any part of him that you feel you can get a good purchase on, propriety be damned.
A feeling that is apparently mutual as Ghost’s hand lands on your ass, shoving you further underneath him. Ending up with your head between his thighs, your arms reach through the gap. One elbow hooks around the back of one of his thighs as the other reaches up looking for purchase on his back. Grabbing a fistful of one of the numerous straps on his vest, you’ve secured yourself to him about as well as you are able.
The room is spinning as you try to keep your wits about you.
You’re probably concussed, you realize, and being fought over like a scrap of meat is jostling you as the two men struggle to break the other’s hold on you.
At one point Ghost’s knee ends up digging into your shoulder as he moves to stand, the brunt of a grown man’s weight a welcome trade off to the discomfort that would have awaited you with the would-be kidnapper.
Your feet hit the floor with a thud, and it seems at this point the other soldier has realized his error.
Too late though- so preoccupied with trying to keep a hold of you versus dispatching Ghost (Good luck with that), once the lieutenant gets a hold of him he’s done for. The knife finds its place in his neck as it has with so many enemy soldiers. Arterial spray hits everything in reach as the knife is removed, his body dropping like a sack of potatoes. He’s not dead yet but will be shortly, too distracted with trying in vain to staunch the bleeding to do anything else.
The threat neutralized, Ghost’s attention turns to you.
He’s speaking, you experiencing the dissonance of hearing his voice but not understanding what he’s saying. your brain picks up what he wants as his hand outstretches to you. Taking the offered hand, he plucks you off the ground like a sack of flour.
He sounds like you’re underwater, and something is sticking to your neck that you’ll realize later is blood drying down to your skin. “On your feet soldier. We’re leaving.”
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transmascaraa · 2 months
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HIII!!! just found u bc of ur gaming hcs and i am IN LOVEE W UR WRITING :333
idk if ur still taking reqs (if u arent feel free to ignore lol) but tbh ive been thinking a lot ab picnic date/date hcs in general w gaming, i feel like itd be cute !! gender neutral reader :p
(and also perhaps if u have any socials bc u seem rlly cool n i wanna b friends....)
bf!gaming headcannons!
just a simple picnic date...
bf!gaming x gn!reader
author's note: i know i said lyney brainrot first but i'd rather do these requests first<3 also i mean i have pinterest and that's really it cuz my parents don't let me have anything else, and even if i did manage to hide them, i don't have enough storage lmao my pinterest is @ w4nd3r3r but i know not everyone has pin so i'm sorry if you don't:( still, you can message me here<3 i hope you enjoy this!
"you and the sun are almost the same, really. well, i can't look at the sun for too long, but i can look at you forever..."
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-in your relationship with gaming, dates were quite often...
-whatever it may be, romantic dinner, a night walk, or even a movie night!
-he was creative when thinking of dates, wanting to provide you with the best of the bestest times of your life.
-and he was succeeding.
-definitely.
-so, when he invited you to a picnic date, you accepted in no time!
-getting ready was not a big deal.
-he would find you attractive in anything you wore.
-anything.
-on the other hand, he was trying so hard to get dressed in a perfect outfit!
-he can't just wear anything and look good, right?
-that was your ability!
-but, thinking of all the times you told him not to worry, he calmed himself.
-and he finally got into an outfit.
-something he was comfortable in.
-when the two of you met at the spot, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
-"hi, my dearest..." he said, smiling softly at you.
-"hello, gaming!" you replied, putting your blanket on the grass, and your basket on it.
-"so, what did you bring?" he asked, sitting down next to you.
-"i brought us food, your favorite! and some candy!" you answered, taking some candy out of the basket.
-"take as much as you want!" you smiled.
-"thank you, my love..." he smiled back at you.
-you ate some of the candy...
-and he ate a bit too.
-he wasn't usually crazy about those gummies.
-but now that he ate them with you and knowing that you like them?
-it's now the only type od gummies he'll eat consistently.
-thinking of you<3
-then, he would take your hand in his and look at the beautiful scenery before them.
-the sunset.
-"wow, it's almost as beautiful as you..." you said, looked far away at the distance.
-"almost?"
-"almost."
-and that was probably one of the best dates you ever went to with him...
~~~~~
3 requests to go👍
i love this one
i'm dying from cuteness @chezsxapcake help was an adorable idea.
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prodshima · 9 months
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love languages (two) 𖤐
warnings: signs of mental instability (?), idk but that's about it, it's all just fluff <3 tell me if i missed anything :)
characters: kuroo & hajime
notes: in honor of me turning seventeen today, here is the part two of love languages! <3 i hope im not too rusty crusty haha :D!
-> click here for: [ part one ]
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kuroo tetsuro - acts of service
kuroo tetsuro is a man who never fails to reach the book men level of standard.
you think that maybe he’s not actually real and some kind of illusion, because how could be a man be so perfect?
well, apparently he is and you must’ve saved multiple planets because for whatever reason— he’s your boyfriend in this universe.
“baby? i brought you your favorite coffee and some pastries” the said man says as he pushes the bedroom door open
you quickly turn around to the sweet voice of your boyfriend, he’s wearing the biggest grin on his face that reciprocates yours while holding up your favorite coffee in his hand and bread on the other
just like a child when they’re given their favorite stash of candy.
“matcha latte?” you scramble away from your where you’re sat in to where he is, kicking away the scattered tissue boxes and paper bags
kuroo chuckles, pecking your forehead lightly “mhm, you got it, baby. you feeling better now?”
you nod, “uh uh, i’m doing okay now, just doing my physics assignments to catch up for tomorrow and i still have some cleaning to do… i think im gonna get sick again if i don’t”
sounds of laughter fills up the room as the both of you glance around the room, looking at each other again with a scrunch
“i’ll help you clean up and don’t overwork yourself, okay? don’t wanna see my baby getting sick again” kuroo laughs as he pinches your cheek before moving to sit on your bed, reaching into his bag
“oh and here’s your physics and maths notes, baby, i figured i could use my vacants to attend a couple of your missed classes” sounds of rustling follows as he hands you neatly highlighted papers
your mouth drops open in shock
just the thought that your boyfriend chose to spend his free time writing notes for his sick partner and listened to professors ramble for god knows how long instead of enjoying his once-in-a-lifetime rest hours
kuroo knows how much you struggle with these classes, not to mention that you’ve missed a couple days because of how sick you got.
“god, you didn’t have to do all that but thank you so much, tetsu, i love you a lot” you snake your hands around his neck to pull him down, kissing his lips
“well i got my reward, didn’t i?”
he smirks
sneaky little shit.
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iwaizumi hajime - words of affirmation
it’s one of those days again.
those days where your ugly thoughts are winning over you and swallowing you whole, leaving you in a state of insecurity about yourself and your relationship with other people
it’s crazy how doubt can take over those positive thoughts you’ve tried to build over the months, only for it to be ruined by some evil monster inside your head that’s so against seeing you happy— there’s only so much you can do and you hate to think that it has succeeded.
but then iwaizumi hajime is always there to protect you.
he becomes your personal shield from all those monsters with just his words, his words that have seems to always save you from getting those thoughts into your head
-
“darling, is there something wrong?” hajime asks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, worry evident on his face
how come he always knows even when you don’t say anything?
you wonder how, when it’s actually the silence that concerns him, he knows that you love making small talks with him just as he loves hearing your voice when you ramble about your day
it has become a part of your routine at this point, whether it's about your annoying professors, how you almost tripped over something, and even just about a cute dog you saw for two seconds on the street
and he's also powerhouse setter for god's sake, he's always perceptive and is quick when it comes to body languages and whatever happens around him
“it’s nothing, haj, i'm fine. just a little bit tired from school.” you whisper as you tiptoe to give him a kiss but instead, a gasp is forced out of you as he carries you bridal style into to the bedroom
hajime kicks through the door, still rubbing circles on your leg. he knows you're not feeling good and just don't wanna be a "hindrance", but to him, nothing and no one is more important than you
and you know this, but those ugly thoughts just disagrees and wants you to be miserable about every little thing. you hate that no matter what you do, they still manage push their way in and ruin your day
hajimes kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose lightly, "i don't wanna force you to talk about it if you're not ready just yet but remember that i'm all ears, okay? i love you so much, baby, you're perfect for me, always and whatever's bothering you is our problem, mhm?"
he must be an angel— you think, he's always patient with you and doesn't belittle you for having your moments of weaknesses that he says is a disguise of strength and that you being there with him despite everything makes you one of the bravest people out there
perhaps, he is — and you're one lucky person to be able to call him yours.
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