#there would be nothing in the world that could stop him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

egcdeath · 2 days

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life's a beach

pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!

For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.

That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.

You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.

Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!

You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.

After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.

But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.

Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.

With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.

With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.

You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.

It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.

As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.

“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.

“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.

You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”

“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.

“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”

You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.

“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.

Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.

He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.

“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.

——————

One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.

As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.

With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.

You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.

Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.

“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”

She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”

You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.

“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.

“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.

“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.

“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”

“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.

“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”

“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.

“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.

She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“

“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.

“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.

“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”

“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”

“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.

“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.

“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”

“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”

“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”

——————

After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.

Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.

You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.

After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.

You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.

“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.

“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”

“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.

He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”

You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.

“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.

“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”

“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”

You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.

“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”

You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.

You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.

What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.

Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.

“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”

You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.

What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.

With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.

“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.

“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.

“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.

“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”

“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”

“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.

“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.

Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”

“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.

“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”

“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.

You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”

If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.

While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.

But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.

While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.

Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.

You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.

“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.

Was he about to ask you out on a date?

“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.

“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.

“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”

The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.

After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.

“One check or two?” they asked you.

“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.

“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”

“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.

Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.

“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”

“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.

“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.

“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.

“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”

“So?” he replied.

“So you want to break in?”

“Why not?” he shot back.

You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.

“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.

Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.

With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.

“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.

“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.

After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.

You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.

Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”

“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.

You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”

“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.

“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.

“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”

“So why’d you do it?”

“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”

“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”

“I mean it.”

“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”

“You weren’t.”

“What if I just didn’t react, then?”

“You did,” he said.

“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.

“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.

Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.

“What was that one for?”

For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.

You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.

You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.

You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.

“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”

Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.

“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.

“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without

“What?”

“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.

“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.

“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.

“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.

“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.

“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.

The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.

The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.

“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.

“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.

“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.

It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.

With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”

“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.

“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”

Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.

After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.

“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.

The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.

You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.

“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.

As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.

“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.

“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”

“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.

“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”

“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.

You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”

“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.

“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”

“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”

“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”

“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.

You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”

“Clearly,” he shook his head.

“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”

“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”

“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.

You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.

“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.

“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.

In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.

You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.

You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.

You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.

After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.

He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.

Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #challengers #challengers fanfic #josh o'connor x reader #art donaldson x reader

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radiance1 · 2 days

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Linked to this post about Billy, Danny, and Vlad meeting in a dream. Tagging @puppetmaster13u because I think they'd like this!

The world was being invaded, taking the chance that some of the core members of the Justice League were away off-world to take the world when it was down on its defenses.

Billy is fighting and saving as many people as he could along with the rest of the heroes presents, they just had to hold out for reinforcements, which is the last few members of the League off world to rejoin their ranks. Billy may have the magic of gods on his side, but he is severely outnumbered and, being one of the powerhouses, has been targeted consistently over and over and barely given any time to actually rest.

So, there he is, battered, bruised, and overall exhausted but still putting up a decent fight. He tries to lead them away from basically everyone else, attacking as he flew away to a secluded enough area but there's just too many to actually do any notable damage.

So, he pulls out one, final, Shazam.

It works. But it also doesn't.

Whatever damage that lightning did, more just flowed in to replace them and Billy knew that even if he fired off another one, the result would be the same.

This is where he will die.

And he accepted that.

He didn't, but what else was he supposed to do?

So, he screwed his eyes shut and hoped that being ripped apart wouldn't be too painful.

Only, nothing happened for a moment. Then another. And another. Until he finally opened his eyes to see the enemies stopped still in their tracks and, for some reason, everything seemed darker somehow.

They looked up in fear and apprehension, so Billy looked up too.

Something had risen from his shadow.

A being of never-ending black that towered over them, its head tilted at an angle that made Billy cringe with eyes that seemed to see through and at them all at once. Then, it lit up with red, and Billy, the closest to it, could suddenly see the stars upon stars inside of its body.

Like a Christmas tree. Billy thought, chuckling at his own joke. If he was going to die anyways, might as well have a bit of fun, right?

One of the invaders tried to make a dash and grab for him.

Then, the overwhelming sound of silence deafened him. Billy didn't even know that was a thing that could happen but as soon it screamed? Roared? Whatever it did, every other sound just... ceased to exist.

A tendril of darkness wrapped around him, and Billy accepted his fate.

Nothing happened.

Instead, the ones who tried to kill him were killed without mercy. Tendrils of darker yet darker lit up with red and containing stars that looked so much like too many eyes crushed, slashed, stabbed, consumed the waves upon waves of enemies that Billy struggled against from pure number alone.

It was swift, it was deadly, it was even brutally efficient but above all.

It was confusing.

This... being. Whatever it was, wasn't doing anything to him, the red glow it gave off just faded, leaving back the true darkness that was its body and shutting off the stars. It slowly, ever so slowly, shrunk itself down from its towering height, as if wary of another attack coming from somewhere.

Not for itself, but for him.

For Billy.

He didn't know how he could tell that, but somehow, he just did?

It was looking at him, curiously? He thinks? And with the adrenaline fading from his system, being replaced by confusion, it finally sets in just how tired he was. With a yawn forcing itself from his lips and his eyes trying to close on their own when his body apparently decided it was safe enough to just rest.

Before his mind jumpstarted itself as he suddenly remembered that they were in the middle of an invasion, and he need to leave. He tried too, at the very least, but another tendril, and another one, wrapped around him as soon as he tried.

He struggled to get himself out, but nothing he tried worked. He barely had the strength for another Shazam, but he was prepared to try-

A tendril wrapped itself around his mouth.

Well.

That was unfortunate.

Then, the world turned dark.

---

He was dreaming, again. Or at least he thinks he was. Usually, he wasn't aware of it most of the time, but this was also one of those weird dreams he's been having for a while.

There was no ground, there was no sky. There was only the vibrant colors of space with the 'ground' being rolling clouds of all sorts of colors that twinkled with stars and the 'sky' was just an endless expanse filled with constellations.

"Billy." A voice echoed his name, and Billy turned around to face a familiar sight he's always seen inside of his dreams. A large, large merman with scales and flowing hair akin to that of a galaxy that glimmered with stars and a large golden mask floating above his head stared down at him. Eyes filled with both concern and a overwhelming relief. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Um, hey Danny!" Billy greeted, awkwardly waving at the large celestial being that has been occupying his dreams as of late. For some reason, he was a bit embarrassed? He really hopes he didn't see how he was getting jumped actually. "Yea I'm-I'm fine!" He struck a familiar pose that he always did as Shazam and flashed his signature smile as while.

Danny was, unfortunately, not amused.

"Child, you need to rest." Danny said, more like thought because his mouth wasn't moving at all. "You're exhausted, stay here and rest."

"But they need help!" Billy countered, dropping his pose to cross his arms and, well, scowl. He tried to imitate one of Batman's glares, when the celestial above him looked unimpressed he could tell he most likely failed.

"And help they shall receive." Danny inclined his head in a direction, clouds parting to reveal an inky blackness that had something instinctual in Billy's body shy away from it. He glanced down at his feet warily. He didn't even know that was there! "Vlad." Danny called out, and red eyes peered out from the void, before the familiar, towering body of complete and utter darkness rose from the pool of, well, emptiness. It looked at Danny curiously and, yep, Billy was still cringing from the way it angled its neck.

"A piece of him there," Danny said as Vlad shifted around him, wrapping its body around Danny's before resting its head on his shoulder and looking down at Billy too. "Unfortunately, I cannot help you, it is too far for me to make it there myself. But Vlad was able to send a piece of himself to help you and I believe that is more than enough to turn the tides in your favor."

Billy shrunk into himself as Danny's gaze turned into a stern glare, not too dissimilar to the way he's seen parents scolding their children and, what made it even worse, Vlad looked at him and mimicked him! How was he supposed to defend himself against that!?

"So rest." Danny's voice was stern, and he thinks Vlad chimed in as well, if these random feelings basically telling him the same thing were anything to go by. Billy still didn't know how he could tell that. Billy could fight against this; he could say no and try to wake himself up to back out there and help people, but looking at the stern, parental glares he's on the opposite end of he just huffed. "Fine."

---

When Billy woke up, everything seemed okay, thankfully. The sky wasn't filled with fleets anymore, so that was a plus. He was in the aftermath of a battle, corpses strewn about along with rubble and pieces of shattered armor.

Billy blinked.

'Vlad' was wrapped around him, in a protective sort of way he thinks, and Billy let the thought 'Okay, this is actually pretty comfortable' run across his mind. He was still pretty tired, actually, and-

Oh hey, he actually still had his communicator? He thought that fell off or was destroyed the lightning.

Billy turned it. He cringed a bit at the way it flashed with static, before letting out a small sigh of relief when it cleared up. He looked over the messages from -apparently the last few hours (and wasn't that crazy?)- the time he was asleep and slumped against Vlad's form seeing that, yes, nothing bad happened and everyone else was safe.

I'm alive! Was the first message he sent before he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Instantly, messages exploded and caused a series of dings on his communicator, all of which were asking where he was, if he was okay, and if he knew what that creature that suddenly joined their battle was.

A friend! Was what he typed, muting his communicator while shutting it off. Did that answer anything? Nope! Did Billy feel like clearing that up right now? Also no!

That is a future Billy's problem! Present Billy is going to go back to sleep!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I think Billy can be a little shit after nearly dying #Also that thing about Vlad wrapping himself around Danny was inspired by the Black Tortoise when I remembered it!#Because now I'm thinking that's a regular thing they do when Danny's in Space Whale form #Teehee #Vlad looking at Danny being a stern parent: Mimics him #Billy: Aw what the heck am I supposed to do now!? Two against one is unfair!!!#His near death experience WILL set in later when he has the time to process it though #For now he's going back to sleep!!!

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wifeyoozi · 15 hours

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🍚 boyfriend!woozi headcanons (sfw + nsfw) this accidentally came out so sweet pls I am down bad sucker for softcore uji

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's tsundere™ like literally head over heels for you but keeps a straight face about it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's almost constantly thinking of you no matter what he's doing making it so hard for him to work sometimes (figuratively and literally)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who regularly calls you when he's on tour and keeps you on video call whenever he's free even if you two aren't talking

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who casually gets you little and big gifts and acts nonchalant about it when internally he's literally melting from the way you burst of joy, even if it's just a cat keychain he gifted you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who does not shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is to all of his friends almost without realising it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's literally so grateful to have you in his life and is so serious about it he literally thanks God to let him have you in his life.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves nothing more than holding you in his arms and everytime he holds you, it looks like he's holding his whole world in his arms (he pretty much is)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's shy to even hold your hand in public but will NOT stop touching you and clinging on you whenever you're home

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's heart literally melts when you come to his studio with warm (homemade) food to take care of him when he doesn't take care of himself.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who feels all of his stress evaporate when he looks at your smile.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves kissing you and making you feel loved in the bed you share.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's a service dom and makes every night you spend intimately only about you, loves making you feel like you are the most beautiful thing in the world

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who is practically a god at making you cum, he's THAT good with his mouth, fingers and dick

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who knows how rarely he gets to take you properly in bed with his busy schedule so he makes sure you're pleasured all night long, putting you to sleep only around early morning after a good aftercare and cuddling.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who cannot fall asleep as peacefully unless you are cuddling against him like a bear, making him feel all warm and loved and safe.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who tends to get horny when you come to his studio wearing skimpy clothes.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi with whom studio sex is literally canon. He will make you sleep on his lap cockwarming him as he finishes his work

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who would put up with mingyu for a whole evening just to make dinner for you if it meant he could see you all happy and jumpy and excited like that.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves doing the silliest and simplest things with you, like brushing your teeth or watching cartoon/anime or going on late night walk, just because it's with you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who literally has heart eyes everytime he looks at you and he cannot stop it even if he wanted to.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves giving you a head, he's so fucking pussy drunk

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who also loves your boobs, not just sexually but also emotionally, like they are his personal stress balls that he gotta get a handful of everytime he's stressed.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who occasionally holds you and cries, apologising prefusely for not being good enough, for not giving you enough time and attention that you deserve, for not being able to love you like he wants to, even when you keep telling him he's more than you have ever wanted and how much you love him regardless and how happy he's made you feel.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who really wants to understand the lengths to which he loves you, and even when he can't verbally tell you always, he would do it with his actions by doing something silly like writing a song for you and having seokmin or seungkwan sing it as he plays his guitar, unable to meet your eyes with how shy he gets but cannot let go of the smile that plasters on his face.

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lanadelnegan · 2 days

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Down Bad

Coach Negan x F!Reader

Song inspo: Down Bad by Taylor Swift 🤍

Summary: You confess your feelings to your gym coach and he shows you how he feels in return. Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, slight choking, praise kink, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is in his 40's)

You had stopped dressing out, stopped walking laps, and stopped giving a damn in general. You were graduating high school in a couple of weeks and that meant that you wouldn't see him again. Coach Negan had been your favorite teacher over the past four years, letting you get by doing the bare minimum while still giving you an A+ each semester.

He's been there for you through it all - Your major breakups, the start of your womanhood, even your parents divorce. When you told Negan about your dad leaving during your sophomore year, he became overly protective over you, like he was trying to fill that void in your life. It was clear to everyone that you were his favorite, and that didn't seem to bother Negan. But you wanted him in a deeper way, and it was starting to become more and more obvious to both of you.

You turned down the volume on your earbuds when Negan sat next to you on the bleachers. The two of you watched the other students walking laps around the gym silently for a few moments before he spoke.

"You know I can't keep letting you get away with doing nothing, doll. It looks like favoritism."

"Isn't it, though?" You grinned, glancing at him with your arms crossed. He copied your body language, leaning back on the bleachers.

"That's beside the point." His jean covered knee rubbed against yours as he smirked. You sighed and his gaze softened. "Seriously, kid. What's up with you lately?"

You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you looked down at your phone, changing the song. Negan took an earbud out of your ear and held it up to his own, curious as to what you were listening to.

"No wonder you're so down. This music is depressing as shit." He laughed before putting it back in your ear.

"Maybe that's part of it." I shrugged.

"Yeah? What's the other part?" He asked, resting his arm on the bleacher behind you and running his thumb over the back of your arm. Chills instantly spread over your skin and your legs discretely pressed together. At least, you thought you were discrete, but the smirk on his face and the way his eyes dropped to your thighs said otherwise.

"You know where to find me if you want to talk." He said, leaving you and heading to his office.

You sighed louder, dropping your head back after watching him disappear. The cologne trail he left behind filled your lungs and broke you at the same time. The thought of never seeing him again made you want to drop from the face of the earth.

You were in love with him. And you had been for awhile now, which would explain the crippling depression and lack of motivation. There was no way it could ever work between the two of you. He was old enough to be your father. He probably wasn't even attracted to you in that way, but you had built this fantasy world in your mind where the two of you could be together. You spent more time in that world than in reality, and music helped you get there.

The bell rang moments later, dismissing school for the day. You sat still, watching the others file out of the gym like they couldn't wait to leave. And here you were, glued to the bleachers like you wanted to stay forever.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you gathered your things and went to Negan's office. You'd been there numerous times throughout the past four years. He kept it unlocked and stayed at least an hour after dismissal. You knocked lightly, waiting for his permission before entering.

"Well, that was quick." Negan smiled, showing his pretty teeth while motioning for you to sit in the chair in front of his desk. His arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair and studied you, completely ignoring whatever he was busy with before.

"Sorry, I know you're busy.." You began.

"Never too busy for you, sweetheart. You ready to talk about what's been on your mind?

"Maybe." You began, sounding unsure and feeling sick. This was a bad idea.

"Maybe? We talk all the damn time, kid. What's different this time?"

"I think I'm.. in love with this guy.. who probably has no clue. It's embarrassing."

"You told me about the time you lost your virginity for fuck's sake. We've had these talks before. Why is it embarrassing?"

You felt your cheeks burning, remembering how you sobbed in this same chair a year ago when your first love broke your heart.

"Because if you knew who, you'd probably never speak to me again." You said, unable to look at him.

Negan tilted his head curiously, holding back a grin. "Doubt it, kid. Try me."

"Okay, well, he's older. A lot older." You glanced at him.

"Okay." Negan nodded. "So he doesn't go here."

"Well, he sort of does.. He's um, not a student though." You felt lightheaded like you could faint any second.

He sighed. "A teacher?"

"Is.. that.. awful?" You asked, cringing at how ridiculous you must sound.

"It will be... if it's not me." He stood, walking around his desk and leaning against it when he stopped in front of you.

"And if it is?" You asked, looking up at him.

"It fucking better be. Come here." He said in almost a whisper. You stood instantly and he moved out of the way, nodding his head towards the desk that he was just leaning on, silently telling you to sit.

He stepped between your legs, lifting them slightly as he pulled you forward to the very edge of the desk. Your clothed pussy was pressed against the bulge in his jeans and the friction made you wetter by the second. You tried to control your visible shaking.

"Since we're confessing things now, there's something you should know too." He said, thrusting forward. "I've thought about fucking your little pussy every day since you turned 18. How it would taste, how it would feel wrapped around my cock, how you would sound screaming my name. Is that awful?"

"Negan.."

"Oh and, if if wasn't obvious already.. I'm fuckin' crazy about you, too." He grinned.

You pressed your lips to his and felt his smile widen as he kissed you back. He took the lead, deepening the kiss as his hands explored you further. He lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side while his gaze lingered over your chest. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bra before sliding it off your arms.

"So fucking perfect." He practically moaned before dipping down and wrapping his mouth around your perky nipple. He teased the other one too before coming back up to capture your lips again. His movements became quicker, and you became more confident, running your hands up his back underneath his shirt. He stood back just enough to take off his shirt and you admired his hairy, tattooed chest, seeing it for the first time. Your gaze followed the happy trail under his belly button to the hair peeking out of his low-hanging jeans.

"If this it too fast, you can tell me, baby. We don't have to rush."

"No." You said too quickly. "...I want this."

"Good." He grinned, kissing you again as he began unbuttoning your jeans. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were so lost in the moment when a knock on the door made you both freeze. Negan dropped his head, clearly annoyed. "Yeah?!"

"Coach, can I -"

The door opened and you covered yourself with your hands as well as you could, although Negan's body blocked most of yours. Negan didn't flinch. Instead, he calmly turned his head and stared at the student at the door. "Did I fucking say you could come in?"

"N-no sir." He stuttered nervously before leaving and closing the door behind him.

"Negan!" You said panicked. "He could tell someone. You could lose your job."

"So be it, doll. Nothing is getting in my way of this." He said softly, lifting you slightly to remove your jeans and panties. He slipped them off your ankles and spread your legs, admiring your glistening lips.

"Goddamn girl, you are perfect." He leaned down to lick you once and you whimpered at the quick loss of his tongue.

"Don't worry baby, we have all the time in the world for that. Right now? I need to be buried inside you. That okay?" He asked, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his completely hard cock. He was long, thick and much bigger than your previous boyfriend.

You nodded desperately. "Yes, yes, Negan, please."

He slid into you with one deep motion, doing just as he said - burying himself inside you. It was so deep it made your jaw drop slightly.

"Fuuuuuck sweetheart. You feel fucking incredible." His forehead pressed against yours and he began thrusting into you at a steady pace. Blood rushed to your cheeks at how amazing it felt.

"Lay back for me." He said, lightly pushing you to lay flat on your back on the desk. He remained inside of you and pulled you closer until your ass was just hanging off the edge. He placed your ankles on his shoulders as he plowed into you, hitting an even deeper spot than before. Tears filled your eyes at the sensation and you covered your mouth, trying not to scream.

"Uncover that pretty mouth, baby. I want everyone in this goddamn school to hear how good I'm making you feel." Your hands dropped to your sides and you let go, moaning loudly without caring.

"Fuck baby. Look at that." He said, looking down at your body. You lifted your head to look down and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock repeatedly protruding your stomach. You both watched in awe, breathing heavily as his thrusts became faster. His large hands gripped your waist, rubbing his thumbs over the bulge in your belly.

"Negan! Feels so good." You cried.

"I know baby, I know. Fuck." He groaned, pulling out of you, only to flip you over. You turned your head to the side, laying your cheek on the cold desk as he pulled your hips closer to him. He helped you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushed himself back into you, pulling on your thighs as he fucked you harder than before. Your chest pressed painfully against the desk but the sensation didn't compare to the bruising he was giving your cervix.

He allowed your legs to drop to the floor, leaving you in a position bent over his desk. Gripping your hair, he pulled you back and leaned over to meet you until his mouth attached to your neck. He bit down on the sensitive skin next to your shoulder while fucked you.

"This little pussy is mine now. Say it." He demanded, his voice in your ear sending chills through your body.

"It's yours, Negan! Only yours."

He chuckled, reaching around and instantly finding your clit. He rubbed his middle finger over it in circles while his other hand wrapped around your throat with the perfect amount of pressure. You tried to moan when you felt your orgasm approaching, but his hand around your throat stopped them from escaping and left your mouth silently gaping open.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your ears started to ring when it hit you - warm juices flooded his cock and dripped down your inner thighs as you moaned his name over and over.

"Thaaaaat's it, y/n. Good girl." He said the last part with a growl, letting go of your throat and turning you quickly. "Knees, now."

You eagerly obeyed him, dropping down and sticking out your tongue to catch his load. He looked down at you while stroking his cock and you closed your eyes, feeling it shoot across your face in warm, pulsating waves. He grunted louder with each one, until every drop was out of him and on your face.

"And here I thought you couldn't get any prettier, baby." He said, cupping your face and admiring you. You both cleaned up, using the tissue on his desk.

"Negan.. that was.. everything. But seriously, I'm worried about him someone finding out."

"Don't, it doesn't matter, doll. I already gave them my notice."

"Wh-what do you mean?" You asked, pulling your pants up.

"It's my last year here. I got an offer to coach basketball at UGA." He said proudly, smiling at you while pulled his shirt back over his head.

You were speechless for a moment. "Negan.. are you serious?! That's where I'm going."

He walked over, pulling you in for a kiss. "Exactly."

ily: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174 @fanficwriter5 @theoraekenslover @lunajay33

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pomefioredove · 3 days

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i crave angst and hurt/comfort/fluff maybe something like that with vil? maybe reader gets hurt pretty badly or something and vil gets upset?? hehe angsty scenarios>>

on my hands and knees rn... vil... save me vil...

summary: anger is an ugly emotion type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty..... mentions of bullying/abuse etc?? very open ended you can interpret that how you please, GOD this is indulgent

Anger is an ugly emotion.

So much is true even for Vil Schoenheit. If you asked him, there is nothing more undignified than losing your composure in front of others, especially those under your care.

No, Vil keeps such emotions to himself. If he feels the need to get a point across, or to settle a conflict, he will do so with grace and dignity. He won't even break a nail.

This is different.

This is seeing you turn away from him with tears in your eyes, and feeling as if the very world itself is crashing down around him.

He cannot stand it.

He cannot stand seeing you like this.

It shakes him to his very core. You've had bad days, evenings where you come crawling into Pomefiore looking as if the world had chewed you up and spit you back out at his feet, and he's tended to it.

He's combed your hair, cleaned the dirt out from under you nails, bandaged your paper cuts with a sort of gentleness he doesn't even reserve for himself, made you look new and whole again.

Vil can't help with this.

It drives him mad. It makes him feel like he's stuck inside his own ribcage with nothing but the sound of his beating heart, trapped in a flurry of confusion and anxiety.

He wishes you would just talk about it. It would make everything so much easier if you would let him help.

But he won't pressure you. He couldn't bring himself to. And, quite frankly, if he knew even the slightest detail about whomever had been making you feel this way, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself from finding them and mincing them to shreds.

As they deserved.

But Vil is not one to rush into anything. He is patient, cordial, taking his sweet time to understand a problem from all angles before enacting a solution.

And so, he doesn't ask.

He holds your chin between his delicate fingers and dabs at the corners of your eyes, hoping to brush away your misery along with your tears.

You sniffle. It's not a pretty sight- you're certainly no graceful crier.

He couldn't care less.

The only thing that Vil can think of now is how only one measly person could be your undoing.

After everything you've been through without even breaking a sweat, all it took were a few too-familiar words to melt you into a pool of bad memories and misery at his feet.

Sevens help whichever poor fool had done this to you.

"Now, now. That's alright," he coos, wiping your cheeks just as a new barrage of tears runs down them. "Don't worry about a thing."

You just barely manage to choke out a response. "I'm sorry, this is- this is embarrassing,"

"Nonsense. You have nothing to feel bad for. I promise I won't utter a word of this to the others,"

He cups your face in his palms, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

"Deep breaths," he instructs. "Seven seconds in, hold it, for just a moment, and then seven seconds out. There. Excellent job."

It's quiet. The sound of sobs and his own heart pounding seem to fade into quiet breaths shared between the both of you.

"Good," he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. A repetitive, soothing motion. "How do you feel?"

"Guilty," you say. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening."

"You've ruined nothing. You're very important to me, you know. I would never want you to think I'm too busy for you," he offers a smile. "Now, how do you feel?"

You're quiet for a moment, likely mulling over his words. Your voice is softer when you reply. "Tired,"

"Oh... you poor thing. I can't have you dead on your feet tomorrow, now, can I?"

You shake your head.

He stands, pulling you up with him. "Come along, then. Let's get you to bed. I'll help,"

He begins guiding you away from the couch you'd spent the better half of the evening sobbing on. You respond in a quiet voice.

"Vil?"

"Mm? Yes?"

"You promise you won't say anything about this to the others?"

A look of utter softness crosses his face at your request, and he smiles again. "My lips are sealed,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #lalala #queued

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 days

Text

A Taste of Sugar (Part 1 of 2)

Alastor x reader (Hazbin Hotel)

Part 1 rated M, Part 2 rated E 18+ for adult content

TW part 1: Light jealousy, trauma related to past food insecurity, trauma recovery.

TW Part 2: Explicate smut, see part 2 for details.

Almost 4k words for part one. Ps- Fuck you Nonny, this is what you get for trying to tell me what I'll write

~<3 Love, Kit.

As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.

He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

A Taste of Sugar

You found yourself in Hell after a rather uneventful death that made of for its lack of excitement with lasting trauma. Now, sitting in a circle in a hotel that functioned more like a rehabilitation center and refuge than actual hotel, you were expected to recount it to the fellow residents that had become more like friends.

It was Charlie’s latest grand idea of how to build trust and bonds between the group and process negative feelings that could hold each of you back from redemption. You didn’t think that was how redemption worked but whatever, it wasn’t your reputation on the line and it got you a safe room to sleep in and three meals a day.

The others had grand stories of murders, crimes and addictions that all landed them in the grave, one way or another, often taking others with them. They had spoken of dark indulgences.

Now they teased you, your crimes amounting to nothing compared to theirs. Damned for the simple crime of being born poor and attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to survive.

You had died fairly young, having lived most of your life on the streets only to starve to death, alone, cold and in the dark. The shelters were full and the food banks near useless without somewhere to cook the food. Stealing food could only get you so far when you had little to choose from. You died dreaming of a warm meal, cooked at home. You died begging to world for a simple snack cake to quiet the pain in your stomach. You died alone, cold and hungry.

The divine didn’t seem to care that you only stole what you thought you needed to survive. Really, not even that considering you starved to death. Maybe you didn’t pray enough. Maybe you didn’t go to the right church. Maybe you didn’t give away what little food you had often enough.

Explaining that felt like shining a spotlight on every way you failed. You failed in life and you failed in death. Not good enough to get into heaven and yet you were also not bad enough to have a respected place in hell. Weak, unless and fueled by fear of once again going without.

“So, that’s why you’ve always got snacks?” Angel pointed out, making you blush hard in shame. The trauma of your life hand a lasting grip around your actions even in death.

“I’m trying to be better about it,” You felt shame in how you tended to hoard snacks in your room, rarely actually doing more than a little nibbling at them. Charlie did a great job of ensuring all residents had access to three meals a day, though someone was almost always missing from one meal or another. “I know I don’t have to worry about starving here, it’s just hard.”

In the shadows of the hall, red eyes watched the group. A smile stretched in the distance as they discussed how the traumas of life leaked into the afterlife and the ways you could move past your traumas.

He couldn’t say why he was drawn to you. You were little more than a lost doe and yet you plagued his mind. He wanted to cast you out so you’ll leave his thoughts as much as he wanted to keep you as a little pet for his own amusements. There was time enough to figure out what to do about the conflicting urges. For now, he can simply watch from a distance, from the shadows.

Rosie had told him that in her expert opinion he was ‘catching feelings’ when he had lamented his inability to settle on a course of action. That aggravated him more than anything else, well almost. The utter glee at the concept was more annoying by just a touch.

He was above romantic sentiments just as he was above the carnal desires of the flesh. Rosie was mistaken, Alastor decided as he also made the decision that he would do nothing about you. There was no reason to let you plague him any longer. Simply look away, move on with his days and it would pass.

Without the desire to do anything about this strange draw to you, Alastor settled on watching you from across the room. He watched as you ate, as you threw out the occasional small package of snacks.Turns out, he wasn’t very good at looking away from you.

It didn’t escape him how you would frown, discussing your decision with Angel. You had decided you would no longer hoard snacks and oh, how proud of you the group was.

You were growing. Healing. Blooming.

If you’d talk to him, he’d tell you that very thing. Yes, he decided as you gave away snacks that he would tell you just how proud he was of you when you presented him with a part of your stash.

He watched and he waited as you gave out cakes, crackers and cookies to everyone else.

But never to him. No, it was always Angel and the other residents you shared your spoils with. Not once had you sought him out to offer him a cracker, cake or cookie. Not that he indulged in processed snacks or sweets on anything but the rarest occasion but that didn’t stop his shadow from bristling in annoyance behind him.

He wanted to be offered. To be recognized. To be thought of. To be noticed.

But he didn’t have feelings for you, he told himself. And that’s what he kept telling himself as the purging of your stash came to an end, drawer empty and flow of snacks becoming a trickle, an occasional treat purchased with the intention of sharing.

Oh, how you’d healed.

~~~~~<3

The first time it happened, you nearly stepped on it. Someone had left a simple plain cardboard box in front of your room door without so much as a note attached to it. Inside were two equally simple cookies. Nothing large, nothing fancy.

Setting them on your desk, you debated eating them or not. They looked good but when you had asked around, no one knew where they had come from.

“Guess you’ve got a secret admirer,” Angel had teased you. “If the cookies are good, you should date them.”

You didn’t know how you’d pull that off without knowing who left them though. Surely they were safe to eat, it’s not like random people came and left the hotel.

What’s the worst that could happen, if they were drugged? You were safe in your room. If they made you sick you had a private bathroom. You were already dead so what’s the harm?

The cookies were good, it turned out. You had nibbled on them over a few days, spreading out the treat. It seemed as soon as they were gone though, a new box appeared at the door. This time with a handful of crackers, some sliced cheese, fruit and sliced cured meat.

This continued for months, treats that were simple, modest and only enough to last for a few days. No matter how quickly or slowly you had consumed the gift, the night you discarded the empty box always brought a new box in the morning.

~~~~~<3

You leaned against the counter watching Alastor work. It was late and though you were not hungry, you often found yourself in the kitchen. Just being able to go down and look at the food you had access to had been helping you resist the urge to hoard food in your room when ever you felt that anxiety claw at you.

It helped too, that you had been able to look forward to the small snack boxes that showed up.

“Something on your mind, Dear?” Alastor didn’t look to you as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes on ingredients he was measuring out.

You hadn’t expected to find him in the kitchen. It was late and those who didn’t leave to party were asleep. Husk was even passed out at the bar.

“Not really,” You said after a moment.

“The food is all here,” Alastor said with a hum, “If that’s what you’re here to check.”

“Oh, No! I-”

“We’ve all got our quirks.” Alastor cut you off, pouring water into a bowl and adding yeast.

“What are you making?” You asked rather than face admitting that he was right about what you were there to do.

“Beignets,” Alastor said, mildly annoyed.

“Those are like donuts, right?” You asked, hoping that you had imagined the sound.

“Indeed, they’re similar.” Alastor kept his words curt.

“For breakfast tomorrow?”

“At this hour, it’s today.” Alastor swallowed his annoyance at the endless questions and lied, “Yes, for breakfast.”

“I’ll go, sorry for bothering you.” You stepped backward as you took the hint, smile falling from your face.

“No,” He answered too fast, bitter sigh huffing through his always present smile, “I’ll need someone to try the test one.”

“Oh.”

You sat, watching Alastor work. He mixed flour into the liquid. This was a way you had never seen Alastor before. It crossed your mind that he probably didn’t let many see him with his coat and gloves off, smile turned soft and flour dusting his dark hands.

But he was letting you.

His coat was draped over the back of the chair you sat in, brushing against your skin as you shifted positions. His gloves were folded neatly and discarded on the table. He worked with his sleeves rolled up and a tune filling the air as he alternated between humming and softly singing to himself.

It was beautiful. You were engrossed watching him work. The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around you, caressing you with warmth.

You’d never spent much time with Alastor. You knew he was a deer, like yourself but until now, you’d thought his only deer trait had been the antlers and ears atop his head. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would have a little fluffy tail to match your own.

It should have, you had fluffy ears to match his though with your longer hair, it was more obvious that they were indeed ears. You watched as his red and black tail moved with him as he put the dough in the icebox to chill.

“What now?” You asked, leaning back from him.

“We wait, my little doe,” Alastor sat front of you across the table, leaning into your space across the small table.

“For how long?” You ask, not sure what to make of spending so much time with him.

“A while,” Alastor said, “But I assure you the wait is well worth it.”

“But you don’t like sweets.”

“You know what I like?” Alastor’s dark hand, stained by blood that could never be washed away dramatically rose to rest over his heart with a flourish as he leaned forward even more. “I’m ever so flattered.”

You stuttered, not sure how to backtrack. Alastor laughed at your flustered stuttering before taking pity on you, pointing a long claw tipped finger so close to you that you swore he was going to stab you with his nail.

“You, my dear, do enjoy sweets however.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, face warm. He knew that you cared for sweets. You were tired but seeing this relaxed side of him was thrilling. That chased away most of the fatigue, driving you to stay and find someway to push the conversation along.

“I didn’t know you liked to cook,” You struggled to decide how to fill the silence.

“I’ve always found it rather enjoyable.” Alastor cocked his head to the side as he watched you. “My mother taught me.”

“That must have been nice.” You weren’t sure what to say, having never really gotten to experience the love of a mother yourself.

“It was.” Alastor watched as you leaned forward, resting your head on your arms. There was something about you that he couldn’t put down. “Did your mother not teach you to cook?”

Your ears sagged atop your head at the question, earning a raised eyebrow from the man across from you. “She didn’t teach me much of anything. I was on my own since I was fourteen.”

“Oh, Dear,” Alastor said as if he didn’t know that already, “How dreadful.”

“I never really had enough food for learning to cook to be a thing.” You shrugged your shoulders, not lifting your head as you stretched out your arm to use it as a pillow. You shifted, allowing you to face him even as you used the side of the table to lounge on.

“But you do now.” Alastor pointed out as he sat with you in a kitchen full of food.

“Full of Charlie’s and the hotel’s food.” You said, “I couldn’t risk wasting it. It’s enough that everyone shares with me what they make and,” You shake your head awkwardly against your arm, cutting off the thought.

“And?” Alastor pressed.

“Someone’s been leaving little boxes of treats at my door. I wish I knew who it was.”

“Why?” Alastor leaned back now, putting distance between the two of you, “Does the origin of a gift matter?”

“I-” Your eyes teared up as your voice strangled in your throat. You sat up, not sure why you were being so open with him.

“You~?” Alastor asked in a sing song tone as a tear slipped from your eye and ran down. His eyes followed it as it cut a path down your cheek. It was maddening to him, what you made him feel. How watching that tear captured his attention, yet he raged at the fact that it was born from pain in your heart.

“I’ve never had anyone give me treats like that.” You said, wiping the tear away much to his disappointment.

“Never? Surely a suiter gifted you treats while courting for your attention.” Oh, why did saying that raise bile in his throat?

“I’ve never-” You laugh, not sure why the idea of discussing this with Alastor made you feel uneasy. “There was never any suiters. No boys. No one.”

“I struggle to believe that.” Alastor laughed as he stood from his chair, “Come my dear, wash your hands and join me.”

You didn’t know what he wanted but Alastor was a man to be obeyed. While you were both deer, he had far more power than you could ever dream to possess. If he wanted to demand your help, you had little choice but to comply.

Sure, the hotel offered a sense of safety but if Alastor wanted to squash you like a bug, shared demonic traits or not, there was nothing that could stop him. Well, Charlie would but she was asleep.

Alastor had the counter floured and a small portion of dough out as you joined him, drying your hands. “Where’s the rest?”

“That’ll be fried up in the morning, if it passes our test.”

He pulled you in front of the counter before stepping close behind you. It was hard to ignore the overwhelming presence of him looming over your shoulder as he reached around to grab the rolling pin only to pass it to you.

“Roll it out until I say,” He directed as he covered the pin in flour only to place it in your hands.

As you worked, his hands rested on either side of you against the counter, boxing you in from behind while not touching you at all. It was hard for you to ignore how close he was.

It was like the man was taking over your mind, something you hadn’t expected considering you hadn’t given him much thought in the months before. The smell of his cologne seemed to surround, making your head light. You weren’t sure why you were reacting to him like this but it left your nerves buzzing.

Now all you could think of was the way his breath caressed over your ears, the way his hands looked without the gloves, dusted with flour, the sound of his voice as he hummed and the smell of his cologne.

“There.” Alastor said, taking the pin from you and replacing it with a dough cutter. “Squares, about the size of your fist.”

Cool air swept around you as Alastor moved away, checking the pot of oil heating on the stove. You’d only just begun to relax under his looming presence and now he was gone and damnit, you missed it.

There was just enough dough to form two squares with some left over. Alastor scooped them up before dropping them in the oil. You stood next to him, watching as the oil came to life around the dough.

“How long do we cook them?” You asked over the sound of the violently bubbling oil.

“Not long.” Alastor said from too close behind you once again as inky black shadow imps swept up the flour and crumbs, wiping down the counters.

On the counter, he set a plate with a rack over it and next to that was a sifter atop a container of powdered sugar. You were boxed in by Alastor as he rested his hands on either side of the fryer, looking over your shoulder as he once again boxed you in.

“Now.” He said softly, “Scoop them out and put them on the rack.”

You were timid, scared of being burned as you fished for the squares with the spoon made of wire.

“Hurry, hurry!” Alastor cried, voice carrying a musical note as he only made your nerves worse, “You don’t want them to burn!”

Finally, you got them out. Oil dripped off the puffed up pastries as they quickly drained the excess oil off. Alastor grabbed the sifter only to put it in your hands. He moved you as if you were a puppet, placing the sifter in your hands over the rack, steam wafting up to caress your hand. You stood still as he poured a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar into the basket.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He teased. “You can manage to turn the handle, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” You stammered over the word, mind buzzing with the anxiety of having Alastor, the powerful, blood thirsty Radio Demon spending so much time in your immediate space. Your hands shook as you turned the small metal handle, causing the wire bar inside the sifter to spin, agitating the powdered sugar and helping it fall in a smooth, clump free shower over a square.

Alastor used his hand on your forearm to move the sifter over the other pastry when he had decided there was enough dusting on the first. You didn’t know if there was any science to how much sugar each got or if he was simply measuring with his long dead heart.

Once both were covered enough for his taste, he plucked the sifter from your fingers and set it aside.

“What now?” You asked, unsure still of what was going on.

“Now you try one.” Alastor said, plucking a square up. When you went to grab the other, he roughly shoved the rack out of your reach.

“What? Why did you do that?!” Your brow furrowed as you looked at the rack, now well out of reach before looking back at the man standing too close to you. “How can I try it if you won’t let me grab it?”

“Open.” Alastor commanded as he ripped the corner off the beignet in his hand.

“Wha-” Your question was cut off by the soft, warm, sweet taste that invaded your mouth somewhat forcefully.

It was delicious.

“Well?” Alastor asked as you swallowed the bite.

You hadn’t noticed Alastor rip off another chunk of beignet but found it pushed between your lips the moment you attempted to praise the taste. This time, instead of retreating, his thumb rested against your lower lip as you took in the bite.

His nails were long and pointed claws, not the thick claws that encased the fingertips of his gloves, but still dangerous. The sharp point of his thumbnail poked between your lips as he watched you chew for a few moments.

You were spellbound by the way he looked down at you. What exactly was happening, you had no fucking clue but the air between you and Alastor was thick with something you couldn’t begin to understand.

His touch left your lip to rip another chunk off the beignet slowly as you watched him. His dark bloodstained hands were covered in the white powdered sugar and flour, softening their appearance.

“It’s good,” You whispered as he slowly brought another bite to your lips.

This time he offered it, waiting for you to open your mouth and take what he was offering on your own, knowing full well who was offering it. Somehow, it felt like something far more than a midnight snack was being offered to you but what?

“It’s been you,” You said, not asked as Alastor presented another bite that you took willingly as soon as you spoke.

His thumb again lingered on your lips, sugar damp with oil and sticky on his skin smearing.

“Yes,” Alastor said after a pause to toss the remaining portion of the beignet on the counter and wiping the hand that had been holding it on a hand towel on the counter, cleaning it of some of the sugar. Yet his other hand didn’t leave you. His thumb remained on your lower lip, feeling every twitch and breath.

“Why?” You whispered, his thumb slipping against your lip and coming dangerously close to falling into your mouth.

“You never offered me anything of your stash,” Alastor spoke softly.

“You don’t like sweets,” You hadn’t wanted to waste his time when you had made the decision to dismantle your stash. It had been a emotionally difficult choice, one that you had made before and never stuck to for long until now. “Or junk food.”

“You ignored me.” Alastor’s thumb slipped, running along her lower lip but never leaving it. “I thought if you had better options…”

“I’d share them with you?” Your voice was coming out so soft now, Alastor’s tall ears cocked forward to better pick up your words.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t share them with anyone.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to share them with anyone.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to keep them all to myself. They were too good to share. I-”

Alastor’s thumb slipped into your mouth, cutting off whatever you had been about to say. Sticky sweetness exploded across your tongue as his thumb caressed it. You could feel the point of his nail against your tongue, a hint of danger coated in sweet sugar.

Your mind was numb as you caressed the pad of his thumb, rolling the tip of your tongue under his nail softly. You were not sure what he wanted from you. The idea of overstepping Alastor’s unspoken boundaries was terrifying. This was uncharted waters. A side of Alastor you had never seen or even dared to dream of seeing.

Alastor watched you as you stood near frozen. “Under some circumstances, I enjoy a sweet.”

~~~~~<3

See part 2 for the smut.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut

167 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 3 days

Text

2.3 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (protected PIV).

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky helped your soul vacate your body.

A/N: More smut, yay!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He held her until she stopped trembling, looking at her in absolute awe as she came back into herself. He’d never, in his entire, long life, had a girl come apart like that for him before. I could love this woman, he thought to himself, then immediately banished the idea from his head. He barely knew her. But, god, how he wanted to. He wanted to know everything about her, and he wanted her to know everything about him– the good, and the bad. All of the bad. He wanted her to know all of him, and still want him once she did, because even though he’d just had her, he wanted more of her, all of her. Every single bit.

“Major?” he murmured, once her body had finally stilled.

“Hmm?” She sounded so peaceful, satiated.

“I hate to ask this, sweetheart,” he began, feeling the flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks, “but is there any way I could–”

“Oh my god, you poor thing!” she said before he could finish. “You’ve been lying here with cum in your pants this entire time. Fuck. Come on.” She stood up, still gloriously naked, and reached for his hand. Blowing out all but one of the emergency candles, she led him by muscle memory through the darkness into her bedroom. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking the remaining candle and placing it on top of a dresser.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Bucky said. His breath hitched as she walked up to him, the soft golden light of the candle bouncing off her naked body. She reached down and began undoing his belt, then the fly of his jeans. Silently, she rolled the soiled clothing down his legs, helping him step out of them until he was just as bare as she was. When the power came back on, she told him, she’d toss them into the wash for him.

“Fuck,” she whispered, and he noticed her staring at his erect cock, eyes wide as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” he said, shyly moving a hand to cover himself, but she pulled his hand away.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” she whispered, repeating his own words back to him with a smirk. “I just wanna look at you a minute.”

And god, she made him feel beautiful, scars and all.

“I would really, really love to have that down my throat right now,” she told him, not once taking her eyes off of his, admittedly thick, dick.

Bucky groaned. He would love that, too, but there was something else he wanted so much more right now. “Major,” he said, and she looked up at him at the sound of her name, eyes shining in the darkness. “We have all the time in the world for that, later. But right now?” Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her hip, jerking her against him and feeling satisfied when she let out a little shriek of surprise. “Right now, I gotta know what it’s like to have my cock inside of you. Please let me fill you with my cock.”

He watched her breasts rise and fall as she took in his words. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was pretty sure her pupils had blown out, leaving only black. “Yes,” she breathed, and she flung herself at him, jumping to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Bucky groaned into her mouth as he kissed her, his hands kneading into the soft skin of her ass. She felt like absolute heaven, and he nearly blew his load again once he felt her hot, wet cunt grind itself against his lower stomach.

By the light of the single candle, he carried Major over to the bed, gently placing her down. Before he could join her, though, she leaned over and reached into her bedside table, pulling out a roll of condoms. He watched in awe as her small hands, with a slight tremble of anticipation in them, tore at the foil packaging and removed the latex. He gulped as she reached for him, giving his shaft a few long, sure strokes before rolling the condom down the length of him.

Then, to his utmost surprise and delight, Major crawled herself over to the middle of the bed, laid down on her back, and opened her legs wide for him, a silent invitation in the smile on her lips. He must have died and gone to Heaven, he thought, because there was no way he was deserving of something so amazing in this life. God, she was so pretty, all spread open for him like a beautiful flower he couldn’t wait to pluck.

Joining Major on the bed, Bucky settled himself between her thighs. Grasping his length, he ran the tip through her soaking wet folds, loving how her eyes rolled back each time the tip of his cock hit her clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much for you,” he warned gently. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.” He’d been with girls in the past who hadn’t been able to take him, especially without him warming them up first, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause Major discomfort or pain. Not when she was so open and pretty for him.

“Dick. Inside. Now,” she ordered, and he loved how bossy she sounded. Slowly, so as to give her time to adjust to the stretch of him, Bucky sunk himself into her, inch by agonizing inch. He was about half way when he paused to check in with her. “How you doin, gorgeous?” he asked. Major’s eyes were scrunched up, a look of intense concentration on her face. “Good,” she grunted. “So… thick. Keep… going.” And so, he did, moving nearly incrementally until he was fully seated inside of her. He could feel her walls squeezing him, and he wondered if he was hurting her. “Doll?” he asked, looking at Major intently. “You alright there? You still with me?”

She opened her eyes and smiled, nodding. “Just need a second,” she told him as she worked to breathe through any stretch she might be feeling. “Never… had so… big.”

Bucky grinned at that, hopeful that, whatever might happen between the two of them in the future, he’d at least be memorable in that regard.

After a few moments, Major’s breathing evened out and he felt her muscles relax around him. She was ready, and Bucky wasted no more time. He slowly slid out before snapping back into her, building up a rhythm. There was a part of him that wanted to fuck her hard, to show her what he was capable of, wanting to ruin her for any other man but him, but a bigger part of him wanted to take his time, to go slow, to savor her.

So he kept his thrusts long and even, relishing in the feel of her every time he bottomed out, every time his tip nudged her cervix. He loved the way she squeezed him, pulled him back into her as he worked to pull out, like she never wanted him to leave. “‘S so fucking good, Bucky,” Major moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back and using them to pull him further into her, as if she couldn’t get him deep enough to satisfy her. He brought his lips back down to hers, kissing her with a slowness he was unfamiliar with, but that felt so right. Everything about Major, about this felt so right. “You’re doing so good for me, sugar,” he said, burying his face into her neck and sucking kisses into the skin there. “So nice and warm, so tight. Makin’ me never wanna come outta this pretty pussy.”

“Christ, Barnes,” she panted. Major yanked on the chain of his dog tags, pulling his face closer to hers so she could kiss him again, long and deep, and the motion sent Bucky reeling over the edge into his release. Not wanting to leave her behind, he brought a hand to her clit as he continued to thrust into her. “So close,” Major moaned, and he knew she wasn’t far behind. He kept rubbing, kept kissing, kept rutting his hips into this little slice of Heaven until she was falling over the edge with him.

Bucky collapsed, trying not to drop all of his weight on top of her, but Major wrapped her arms around his back and held his head to her chest, gently running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That was amazing. You were amazing.”

Major chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “I’m pretty sure we were both amazing, together,” she said. Bucky could not disagree.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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vaamins · 13 hours

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It’s been years since the failed plasma star vessel incident and satoru likes to believe he’s gotten over it. That he’s unmoved and unchanged by it, that despite the great loss he suffered, he’s still the same Satoru as before.

Some days, he is grabbing the hair on his head and trying to rip it off and get to his brain to stop the influx of memories he doesn’t want to remember from surging him and ultimately, drowning him.

Other days, hand in hand with you, he feels like he’s on top of the world and that nothing could bring him down.

It is only when he finds himself in the aquarium involuntarily, his feet on autopilot having took him there by instinct, and he’s walking around the glass dome of sea creature watching as big and small, large and thin fish swim by, that he remembers riko amanai.

Her Image in his brain has become fuzzy with time. Her once vibrant dark blue hair is a dull black, and her eyes—he’s forgotten what colour they used to look like. But he remembers her peering up at the fish all those years ago. The life in her eyes having been long snuffed out.

Its on days where he’s reminded of her that satoru realises he has been changed. Regardless if he can’t remember her face, she’s tucked into the crevices of his mind, always appearing in memories of his blue spring lost, and she re-emerges from the depths of his mind.

Not to haunt him no. He knows riko wouldn’t haunt anyone, but she stands as a reminder of what satoru couldn’t save and, curse him, he hates her for it.

She’s an immovable object. A constant alarm, blaring in his brain of the one he couldn’t save. Because as much as satoru would like to say he and suguru were the same, their difference were too large to go unnoticed.

But some days, like now, when it is summer, and the wind is a slight breeze ruffling his white hair, the sun shining down on everything, and he’s kicking his feet in the water of the beach. He remembers her again. But she isn’t dull and devoid of colour, this time, she is bright and wonderful. A reminder once again, that life could be good.

Satoru, turns at the sound of his students behind him, calling for him to come back and get some food. He gazes at them fondly, and it is only then that he sees how far he has come and theirs one thing he can admit as he walks towards them, leaving riko amanai behind.

That he was changed. That he still hasn’t gotten over it, just yet. But he is working on it, and he smiles to himself as his students swarm him, complaining about something he doesn’t know.

He knows it as he gazes into your eyes. You stand under the shade of a tree, smiling at him. All love and adoration. You’ve always been there, and you would always be there. And though it may be a long journey, he knows he can move on from what was riko amanai and what should’ve been suguru geto. He knows he can, with you by his side.

And so he moves from his students and envelops you into his arms, breathing in your scent and satoru leans into your embrace. And for the first time in forever, he feels as if he can finally let go.

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makeitmingi · 3 days

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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 40]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): Heavy chapter. Confrontation and verbal argument from parent, parent threatening to hit child. Overall just confrontation of y/n's childhood so please exerise caution when you read as it can potentially be triggering.

Small time skip...

After another successful dinner service, you stood outside the back door, taking in the fresh air and grounding yourself. The chaos of the kitchen was left behind, allowing you to have some peace and quiet on your own. But you were glad the restaurant was doing really well.

"(y/n)." The voice that called you made your eyes shoot open. You lifted your head and jumped to your feet.

"D-Dad..." You stuttered nervously. Suddenly, you didn't feel like you were on top anymore. You felt like the scared little girl at the mercy of your fierce father.

"H-How did you know where I was?" You asked with a gulp.

"Is that even a question? You're my daughter, of course I know where you work." His eyebrows furrowed.

"Right, sorry. Umm, why did you come here? You could have called me to let me know you were coming or I would have met you outside of work." You fiddled with the edge of your shirt.

"Are you that busy that you need me to inform you prior that I want to meet you?" He asked.

"It's a busy day. I don't have time to just talk." You sighed.

"I am here to discuss with you... all this. (y/n), you don't belong as someone's employee, a cook nonethless. You have the opportunity to take over my company, you have the skills to do so and yet, you choose to be stubborn and rebel against the career course that has been set for you since birth." He cut to the chase.

"Wow, dad. It's the first time you've ever admitted that I have the skills to do anything." You knew that wasn't the main point of his speech but you'd take any win you can.

"(y/n). Be serious. It's been almost a year since you've worked here and there's no progression." He frowned.

"Why do you want me to take over the company so badly? That's the dream you've had for me but it's not my dream." You asked.

"I'd rather have you take over than some random stranger." He crossed his arms.

"You just want me to take over because you would never ask my stepbrother to do it. And also so you won't be embarrassed to tell your friends I am a chef." You pointed out.

"It doesn't matter, (y/n). I've let this go on for long enough. Stop playing and for once, be serious about your future." He lectured.

"You always think that I just treat this like a game. Don't you see dad? This is my life, all the effort, blood and sweat I've poured into this. Would I do that if I wasn't serious? You just refuse to see it." You shook your head.

"I've given you every opportunity to be the best and you choose to work in a kitchen? That's an embarrassment." He scolded.

"I know you're embarrassed of me. You always have been and always will. I'm your flesh and blood. Yet, you'll always think my stepbrother is better than me." You laughed bitterly.

"Because he has real goals and aspirations. He wants to make something of himself." Your dad reasoned.

"Right because anything I do will never match up to him."

"If you do something actually worthy of recognition and praise, of course I will praise you. But so far, you have done nothing worthy of my time." He said.

"I've cooked under some of the best chefs in the world, served the best dishes at some of the most prestigious events. But that's nothing, right? It's not worthy and it never will be." You sighed.

"It's a waste of time and potential." You dad replied.

"Uh, Seonghwa hyung?" Yeosang came to the front where everyone was having drinks and enjoying the air conditioning after being in the stuffy kitchen the whole night. He tapped the older on the shoulder and pointed to the counter. Seonghwa frowned in confusion but moved to speak privately with Yeosang.

"What is it that it must be said in private?" Seonghwa asked.

"I-I was in the locker room and I heard (y/n) outside. She's speaking to someone... I think it's her dad... I didn't mean to eavesdrop but it sounds bad..." Yeosang gulped.

"What?! Her dad is here?" Seonghwa said a little too loudly from the shock. Yunho definitely heard it.

"Thanks, Yeosang." Seonghwa put his drink down and went to the kitchen.

"Yeosang, what's going on?" Yunho asked when Yunho came back.

"Umm, (y/n)'s dad is here... Out back..." Hearing those words come out of his friend's mouth, Yunho was on his feet immediately, rushing to the back door.

"I didn't raise you to be like this." Yunho heard your father scold, making Yunho pause.

"Raise me? How can you say that? Did you raise me at all, dad? When mom got sick, you didn't even visit her and you cast me aside. And when she died, you acted like I died along with her. It's like I became nothing to you..." Tears slipped down your cheeks.

"Your mother always coddled you too much. You needed to grow up and be independent." Your father said.

"How old was I?! I was a kid, dad! It's bad enough I had to watch my mother slowly die. But you abandoned me too! I was alone, I mourned her alone." You yelled in frustration.

"What did you do? Nothing! Oh right, you went out and got married. Brought two strangers into our home." You laughed bitterly.

"They're not strangers. You've been childish and treating them like outsiders from the start." Your father corrected sternly.

"Sorry, I forgot. They're your family. But they're not mine and they will never be. You threw me away so you could start life anew. But what about me?" You asked.

"You still had a roof over your head, food to eat. I hardly think your life was bad." He scoffed.

"Did you even notice that I didn't come home? That I was out there, getting into all sorts of shit, making friends with strangers. I nearly killed myself. If not for Seonghwa, I wouldn't be alive now. But even if I were dead, I guess you wouldn't care, right?" Your words made Yunho's heart clench with pain.

"Let me ask you, dad. Were you even sad that mom died? Did you even love her? Or did you just wait for her to die so you could go find someone new?" You asked in a low voice.

"Why you-"

"Mr (y/l/n)!" Seonghwa yelled out, pulling you behind him in an attempt to shield you and protect you.

"That's enough." Yunho's eyes burned with rage as he held your father's wrist mid air. No one was going to hurt you.

"Don't you dare hurt her. Not on my watch." Yunho glared, seeing how broken you were, barely holding yourself up in Seonghwa's embrace. Your father looked at Yunho in disbelief.

"And who are you? This is none of your business. This is between family, you shouldn't meddle." Your father snatched his wrist away from Yunho's grasp and looked him up and down. Yunho towered over him, making him more intimidating.

"I haven't heard you refer to me as family for YEARS." You sneered at your father.

"If you must know, I'm her boyfriend. Another person that shows her love, care and concern." Yunho growled.

"Wait, you're the owner of this place, aren't you? You're dating the owner? That is highly inappropriate." Your father found another reason to berate you.

"Inappropriate? Inappropriate is you coming here and harrassing her." Yunho glared.

"I'm her father." Your father said.

"And I chased after her to be my girlfriend. Not that it matters. I treasure her for who she is, not like you, forcing her to be someone that she's not." Yunho said.

"Yun, stop. Just... go... dad... There's no way we'll ever mend this relationship. It was gone the moment mom got sick. Let's not kid ourselves. Just go and forget that you've ever had a daughter, okay?" You said, tears just falling down your cheeks.

"I've tried so hard, for so long, to be the person you want me to be. But I'm tired. I can't keep doing this." You shook your head.

"I'll have to ask you to leave the premises right now. You're upsetting my girlfriend." Yunho frowned.

"Fine. Have it your way, (y/n). But when all else fails, don't come crawling back to me and regretting what you've done. Don't forget, you asked for this." Your father said and stormed off.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's over." Seonghwa hugged you, pulling you to his chest.

"Hwa." You sobbed loudly, letting out wails of despair. It broke Yunho's heart. He wished he could have prevented this from happening.

"My love, it'll be alright." Yunho took over, supporting you in his arms and giving you the tightest hug. Seonghwa continued to rub your back to soothe you.

Seonghwa had wanted to step in the moment he heard your father was here and confronting you. But from the conversation, Seonghwa knew that you needed this. This was the conversation you had been dreading and so afraid of. Finally setting yourself free from your father and the pressure he has put on you.

"Let's get you home." Yunho kissed your forehead.

"Take her home. I'll grab all your things and see you there." Seonghwa said. Yunho nodded and fished out his keys, escorting you to the car and driving off.

"Is (y/n) okay?" San asked worriedly. Wooyoung and Jongho knew Seonghwa's expression said it all.

"She will be. Don't worry." Seonghwa forced a smile, patting San on the shoulder.

"Yunho took her home. I'm just going to grab his things and meet him back at (y/n)'s place." He explained. Mingi helped gather Yunho's things and handed it to Seonghwa to take.

"Have a good night everyone." They wished each other. Only Jongho and Wooyoung lingered behind.

"How bad was it, really?" Jongho asked.

"Bad... But she needed it. I'll tell you guys more tomorrow. Let me get back to her. I'll update you guys on how she's doing." Seonghwa promised, knowing the two were just as worried about you.

Wooyoung hugged Seonghwa before they parted ways. Seonghwa drove his own car while Jongho and Wooyoung rode together. The moment Seonghwa arrived at your place, he went to check on you and saw you fast asleep on Yunho's chest.

"Hey. She was exhausted and fell asleep right after her shower." Yunho said, coming out of the room quietly.

"Thanks. Tonight was a lot, she's probably gonna sleep for a while." Seonghwa rubbed his forehead, the frown on his face evident of the stress he was feeling.

"Hyung... Maybe you should stay tonight. You've been around here longer than I have-"

"Yunho. I've told you, you're here for her too. She needs you as much as she needs me now." Seonghwa patted his shoulder.

"But I feel hopeless because I don't know how to comfort her now. I'm scared I might make the situation worse." Yunho frowned slightly. Seonghwa sighed, falling onto the couch.

"Yeah, all of us weren't prepared for that." He spoke.

"She's told me a lot about her dad a few times and from then, I knew I hated that man, even if I've never met him. But after tonight, it's not even hate anymore. It's beyond that... I..." Yunho was speechless. There was too many emotions in his head that it was a mess, he didn't know what to do.

"I get it. I was like that too when I first saw the real him and how he spoke to (y/n). But hopefully for (y/n), that's the last we'll see of him." Seonghwa shrugged.

"She deserves better than that. I've never seen her so broken before." Yunho shook his head.

"Hey, she'll be okay. I know it's a lot. Unfortunately, I've seen her go through worse." The older comforted with a sad smile.

"I know what you told me, hyung. But after all that you've been through together, I think she really needs you now. And in a way, I think you need her too..." Yunho said honestly.

"She won't make it to work tomorrow. I'll call some people in to help in the kitchen." Seonghwa said.

"Of course. Thanks, hyung." Yunho gave a small smile.

"No problem. I've got to shower first." Seonghwa stood up and went to the bathroom in the guestroom to shower before going to be with you.

Yunho wasn't jealous, not one bit. In fact, he was glad that Seonghwa could be there for you to lean on because he was lost on how to comfort you. He needed to ground himself, collect his emotions. This wasn't about him, this was about you.

"Ah..." Yunho threw his head back as tears of relief, frustration, anger and sadness rolled down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away with his hands.

"Hey, Yunho. Sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor." Seonghwa said, coming out of the guest room while drying his hair.

"Oh, hyung I can't-"

"Just do it. She has a floor futon so don't worry, you're not making me sleep on the cold hard ground." Seonghwa rolled his eyes playfully. Yunho stood up and nodded.

After setting up his futon, Seonghwa stood over your sleeping form. He lifted your hand to kiss the back of it.

"You did it, sweetheart." He whispered. Yunho climbed back into bed and lifted you slightly so he could slide his arm under you.

"It'll be okay. You'll be okay." Yunho whispered against the crown of your head, closing his eyes as he let the even sounds of your breathing lull him to sleep.

It was about 4 am when you shot up from bed. You breathed heavily, leaning your head on your arm tiredly. Glancing back, you saw Yunho fast asleep. And on the ground beside you, Seonghwa was also sleeping. Just the two of them being there calmed your heart down and brought you comfort.

"So it wasn't a dream..." You said to yourself softly. Everything that happened with your dad, happened.

Asking your dad to forget about you was the hardest thing you've ever had to do. Well, other than burying your mother after she died. Not that you relied on him now.

But it meant that you were letting go of your hope for him. Your hope of you and him reconciling, going back to the way things were.

"Hey..." Seonghwa called out to you softly from his futon. You turned your head but it was dark, you couldn't really see him.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" You asked softly.

"No, you didn't. I've know you long enough to know that you wouldn't be able to sleep for long. Your brain is too active for you." He let out a soft chuckle.

"I feel exhausted. I wish I could turn my brain off, I don't know what I should be feeling now." You sighed.

"You don't have to feel anything, (y/n). You don't have to feel sad about it but at the same time, you don't have to feel liberated and relieved too. It's okay to just be numb after what happened." He reached out to hold your hand.

"Seonghwa hyung, maybe you should stay with her. We'll manage for the day." Yunho said as they two were grabbing their jackets to leave.

"Why don't you stay instead? The kitchen crew need me when our leader is down." Seonghwa suggested.

"Are you sure?" Yunho blinked.

"Yeah. Why not? Also, if she wakes up and finds out we gave her the day off, she loves you enough to not kill you. Maybe put you at the edge of death but not kill you." Seonghwa shrugged.

"That is... very reassuring." Yunho gulped. Whiskey let out a meow, nuzzling his body against Seonghwa's foot.

"How do you do it? Black cats just love you." Yunho chuckled.

"You just need to know how to care for them." Seonghwa laughed, getting the underlying meaning or joke behind Yunho's words. He bent down to stroke Whiskey's cheek with the back of his finger and the black cat just ate up all that attention, meowing loudly and licking Seonghwa's finger.

"If she doesn't kill you, let me know how she is. If she does... It was nice knowing you, Yunho." Seonghwa raised his eyebrows and grabbed his keys.

"You're more used to her abuse than I am. Maybe you should stay instead." Yunho said, trailing after him to the door.

"Doesn't mean I enjoy it..." The older pointed out, waving as he left the house.

"Maybe if I have you with me, your mom might inflict less violence on me." Yunho looked down at Whiskey, who blinked back at him and let out a yawn.

"Aww, Whiskey. That was mean. But let's get you some breakfast." He waved the cat over and prepared it's food.

"There." Yunho sat in front of Whiskey, watching him hungrily eat out of the bowl.

"Slow down. No one is going to take it away from you." He chuckled. Yunho hadn't noticed that you were awake, standing in the hallway quietly, watching him talk to Whiskey. It was like those videos of excited golden retrievers bothering their black cat sibling.

"Am I interrupting your bonding time?" You asked. Yunho's head shot to you and he smiled excitedly, stumbling on his feet as he made his way to you.

"Woah, slow down. Don't fall." You had a small smile as he wrapped his arms around you to hug you.

"Please don't kill me for giving you the day off." He mumbled.

"Is that really the first thing you're going to say to me? But you're lucky I'm too emotionally exhausted to be angry with you AND Hwa." You scoffed. Yunho pulled away slightly to look at you.

"I'm glad to hear that." He stroked your cheek, leaning down to plant his lips on yours.

"You should sleep more." He said.

"I don't have you or Hwa with me to lull me to sleep." You giggled. That's all he needed to hear before Yunho held your hand and led you back to bed. You laid your head on Yunho's chest as he stroked your head. Seonghwa was right, you could feel numb from last night and that's okay.

"I don't want to feel anything about last night. I just want to move on with my life like usual." You said honestly.

"Okay. Life as per normal." Yunho agreed. He wasn't going to force you to face your feelings or dig deep into the meaning and significance of what happened.

"Thank you, Yunho. Thank you for being there." You looked at him, tears in your eyes.

"Oh, my love. There's nothing to thank me for. No more tears, hmm?" He gently thumbed away the tears.

"I love you." You said, fingers playing with the ends of his fringe. Yunho was such a big part of your world now. Just like Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho were.

"I love you too." Yunho smiled, wrapping his arms around you to hold you tight. He was never going to let you go.

He couldn't protect you from the verbal abuse of your father last night from that point on, he'll continue to try his best to protect you and shield you from all the other negativities that will come your way. Never again does he want to see you crying and broken.

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sometimesliterate · 24 hours

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massage | dr ratio blurb

1.5k words about giving ratio a massage because you're his partner and you love him. that's it. that's the post. there's nothing else i can say about that. purely self indulgent sweetness there's nothing else for me to add. reader is gender neutral, and referred to by him and themselves as veritas' partner. i wrote wayyy too much about such a simple concept but what are you gonna do ? lock me up ? i dare you.

you knew how veritas liked to wind down for the night. after a few years being married to him, you've figured out the routine by now. you can tell he's starting to get tired when he sits his book down and nods off a little in his chair. you have to gently shake him awake, or call out to him a few times before suggesting that maybe it's time for bed, that you're the one getting sleepy, not him. and then, finally, he'll sigh and tell you that he still has so much work left for him to do, but he supposes that he should humor you for a little while.

he'll get up, and trudge his way to your shared bathroom and begin to get ready for the night. he takes off his robes and puts them up on a hanger, and taking off his gold accessories, including his adornment and chain that went around his neck, and his laurel accessory. after unbuttoning the top button of his vest, he takes off his contacts and puts on his glasses because he's as blind as a bat without them.

and of course, then you come in. you'd change out of your day out and into your pajamas, which was usually just a tank top and a pair of underwear, and then you would make your way to the bathroom where veritas was in the middle of his routine, probably brushing his teeth. you would brush out your hair and make sure that you had taken off any makeup - and probably remind him to take off his eyeliner, too. you were usually trying to get a good look at yourself while behind him in the mirror, often ducking or tilting to the side so you could see yourself.

after brushing your teeth, were were mostly done, save for whatever skincare you did at night. and then you would glance at veritas, your eyes raking over his body, and you would snake your arms around his torso, your head against his back. " you look so nice, veritas, " you would mumble against the fabric of his vest, pressing a soft kiss against his back. " this is my favorite veritas. the guy with grandpa glasses and messy hair who snores at night. "

veritas stifled a laugh, finishing brushing his teeth and rinsing out the minty foam from his mouth before turning around, his arms lazily hanging off of your shoulders. " i suppose its only natural you have your favorites, just as i have mine, " he whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half smile, the exhaustion evident on his face. " although, i must admit, it's amusing to see you try to seduce me while i'm half dressed. "

" is it working ? " you asked teasingly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, leaning into his touch. you could see the tiredness in his eyes, the way he could hardly keep his eyes open even as he shared such an intimate moment with you.

" it's.. charming, " he admits, his voice low and even, and he couldn't stop the small sigh of contentment that spilled from his lips as you kissed him. he knew that you enjoyed these intimate moments, and he'd found himself growing rather accustomed to them too, despite his penchant for a busier, more active lifestyle. but you knew something the world didn't, you saw the warmth in his icy facade that veritas presented to the world as dr. ratio.

" how about i charm you some more, veritas ? " you asked, smiling softly at him, knowing just what he needed. this was the time for your care to shine through, something that honestly didn't happen often enough. " how about a massage, doctor ? " you purred, your eyes glimmering with a longing to please him in a way that only you could. " let me indulge you, dearest dr. ratio. " you only ever used the title dr. ratio in two situations : when you're a guest speaker in his lecture room, and when you're trying to deliberately provoke him into your little games, just so he would let you take care of him for a little while. and it was working splendidly

" you know i've never been one for massages.. " he hums, allowing his voice to trail off as he thought about your little offer. finally, he gave a little sigh, too tired to protest much. " but perhaps, just this once, i might make an exception for you. "

you smiled, taking his hand, as well as a bottle of his favorite scented lotion, leading him towards the bed. once he was laying on his stomach on the bed, his vest long gone, you really had the chance to enjoy his body in a mostly nonsexual way. you sat on his butt with your legs straddling either side of him, hovering over his vulnerable form. you squirted the lotion on your hands, warming it up between your fingers before you began to work on massaging his shoulders. veritas let out a soft grunt as your skilled fingers worked through the knots in his muscles, finding himself relaxing under your ministrations.

your touch was firm and yet gentle, knowing that you would have to be a little rough with him to get out particularly tight tension knots in his muscles. massaging the expanse of his back, you found yourself completely thrown into the little side mission of pleasing your husband that you gave yourself. " when was the last time you had a massage, dear ? " you asked gently, your fingers trailing down his spine, pressing into his skin to work through the tension. " you should let me take care of you more often. you know i enjoy helping you out, you've just gotta ask your lovely partner for help sometimes. "

" i can't recall. perhaps its been far too long, " he mused out loud, his voice deep and grumbly as he closed his eyes, his head in his arms while he enjoyed this moment with you. he knew you well enough by now to know that you weren't talking about just giving him a massage when he needed to relax. you were also extending yourself to comforting him, or supporting him through his endeavors. you'd be there to listen and offer a shoulder to lean on should he need it. and although he may not say it verbally, he couldn't help but appreciate your unwavering support more than you could ever know.

" you know i'm always here, veritas, " your voice was inexplicably warm and loving as you massaged his back, feeling him relax so much more underneath your touch, your every move melting the stress from his body. " i always will be. "

" i wouldn't expect anything less from my beautiful partner, " he chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his arms. there's a note of admiration in his voice, a rare glimpse of vulnerability revealing itself beneath the layers of his typically stoic demeanor. he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him. for all of his faults and flaws, this is where he found his solace; in the quite moments shared with you. the world fades away gradually to him, leaving only the two of you together.

in this moment, he's not dr. ratio, the scholar within the intelligentsia guild, nor the doctor working tirelessly to save his patient's lives. he's got no doctoral under his belt that taught him to how to love, and yet he found himself doing so effortlessly with you. he was simply veritas, a man basking in the comfort and love of his partner. as you work your magic on his tense muscles, he lets his thoughts drift aimlessly. veritas lies there, basking in your tender touch, and he can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

you smiled when you began to hear the soft, familiar sounds of his snoring. you stopped for a moment, looking over his features. his hair was messy and in his face, his eyes closed, and there's no negative emotions on his face. he wasn't angry, or stressed, or worried. he looked peaceful, and happy. you picked yourself up, walking over to grab a towel to clean your hands from some of the lotion. the sound of his snoring became almost like a lullaby to you, a signal that something went right, that you had done something right. you wiped off the remaining lotion from his back, putting the towel on his bedside table before leaning over to him.

you paused, taking in his features up close, before gently brushing his hair out of his face, your hand resting on the top of his head before you gently kissed his cheek. " i love you, veritas. not the man you present yourself as, but the man that you are when no one else is looking. " you knew that underneath his many layers, veritas was a man who wasn't so different from everyone else after all. he was inherently kind, although stubborn in his ways, something that you had grown to love about him.

as you settled in beside him for the night, you couldn't help but think that you were the luckiest one in the room.

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #dr ratio #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas x reader #x reader #dr ratio x reader #fluff #drabble #blurb #one shot #hsr ratio #honkai star rail imagine #imagines

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col0gne · 12 hours

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⋆·˚ ༘ * stranger !

pairing : luke castellan x gn!reader

in which : luke returns to you a month after he has betrayed the entirety of camp and you realize he's just a stranger you once knew everything about.

warnings : angst !!!!, swearing, no use of y/n, conflicted reader, almost manipulative luke (??) also i apologize for any errors!

i cried a million rivers for you, but that's over now you're just a stranger i know everything about.

it had been a month since luke castellan, the love of your life, had left camp half blood. since he had betrayed everyone you loved. since he had left you without saying a mere word to you.

you could still remember the look on his face before he ran through the torn veil. he looked back at you with a frustrated look. frustrated about what? you weren't sure.

frustrated about the gods and all they had "done to him"? frustrated that he had been caught? no. frustrated that you, the person he loved and trusted most in the world, hadn't agreed to join him when he decided to abandon all he knew.

but the look in his eyes almost had a sense of hurt in them. like he was the one being betrayed. almost. and then he ran without another look back.

and you stood there. like an idiot. percy and annabeth stood beside you, staring for a moment before the blonde haired boy moved to comfort annabeth, who was already crying. and you just stood there.

so here you sat, a month later, around midnight on a old wooden dock by the large camp lake. gods, you regret it more than anything. letting him run like that. you wish you could've grabbed his hand and said "stay," or something cliché, but you stood, rooted by your shock.

luke was not the same luke you once knew. he was now a stranger. and you'd wasted tears upon tears over him, knowing that all you knew about his whereabouts was nothing.

you were shaken from your thoughts by the sound of the dock creaking behind you. you shoved yourself to your feet, grabbing your silver dagger which was in your pocket, just for safety measures.

you whipped around, suddenly face to face with a tall, tan, curly haired young man. your eyes widened and you went to back up. "shit, luke?"

"i don't want to start anything-" luke stated your name softly. too softly. it frustrated you as he eyed your dagger.

"what are you doing.. what? start anything? luke, you've started a war," you stared at him, gripping your dagger tighter.

"please, listen. i just wanted to see you and talk." luke began, stepping towards you, causing you to back up once more.

"there's nothing to talk about." you stated, swallowing a lump in your throat. oh there was plenty to talk about. and as much as you had wanted to see luke again, you weren't prepared to have that conversation tonight. you were frustrated.

"you left, luke. you left camp. you left home. you left our friends. you left me." you spoke, your voice smaller than you really wanted it to be.

"you think you can just.. show up here? and think it's fucking okay??" you winced, backing up again, shaking your head.

suddenly, your foot slipped on the end of the dock and without even realizing what had happened, you were in luke's scarred arms. luke had grabbed your wrist with a firm, yet gentle grasp, and pulled you back to steady ground by the waist.

"i don't think it's okay," he murmured, looking you in the eye. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you felt weak. "i just needed to see you. talk to you. i would break any rule for you, you know that."

"luke, please." you shook your head, almost imploring him to stop, as if he was leading you on. but you leaned into his touch nonetheless, shutting your eyes.

"come with me." luke spoke suddenly, tilting your head to face his. "please. we can be together and everything will be normal again. you and me."

you looked at him, tears staining your waterline. "luke.. i had to stay and i have to stay. this is my home."

luke placed his hands on your waist, looking down at you with his soft brown eyes. once so full of excitement and life, they were now dull, his face and arms were now scattered with more small scars from being on the run.

"please. i can protect you. and we can fight together, we'd be unstoppable," he rubbed his thumb in circles against your hip softly.

"luke. i can't." you said firmer this time.

luke was about to speak, frowning further, when the lights in the big house went on. you whipped your head in the direction of the light and muttered a small, "shit."

you looked at luke, who was already looking at you, able to see you better in the light. "you look even more beautiful than i remember."

"luke, you have to go." you stressed, hearing a groggy mr. d in the distance. "like, now."

luke stares at the big house lights for a moment before shaking his head. "please," he says your name, leaning down and softly pressing his lips against yours.

his lips were rough. it was a nice contrast to your soft ones. it felt like you were kissing him for the first time again and you couldn't help but melt into his arms as he pulled you close, squeezing you.

he pulls away, looking in your eyes, searching for some sort of answer.

you look at him a sigh shakily. "luke you.. i.."

mr. d calls out in the distance, getting closer to the docks. luke looks at you, an unmistakable look of hurt in his eyes before backing up and running off the dock and into the shadow of the woods.

you exhale and watch him leave before running a hand through your hair and straightening up, only able to hope you can see the stranger you know so well again soon.

an : omg first fic on this account !! i hope y'all like it :)) hopefully i will be writing more... much love xx

#tanner's fics ⋆·˚ ༘ *#luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #lukey pookie #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo tumblr #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst

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tiddygame · 2 days

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Ghoap god type Au part 2!

(og post here)

i didn’t expect so many people to like this so this is a little addition written stream of consciousness style :)

Weeks have passed and the troops have marched on. Ghost is not very liked amongst his fellow soldiers, most viewing him as something less than human. If they notice the drastic uptick in him sneaking away, they say nothing. Whether it is out of respect, fear, or apathy does not matter.

When they stop somewhere, even if for just a night or two, he always searches the area for overgrown shrines belonging to the god. Now that he is actively seeking them out, he realizes that they’re everywhere.

Damn near every notable landscape was a ruin of what was once a commemoration for the god. Clearings in trees with stone circles on the ground, shallow caves with a pedestal holding forgotten gifts, eye-catching rocks that turned into statues when you paid attention — all for a deity that was now on the brink of death.

On the rare occasion he is unable to find one, he creates one. It was never really anything more than a pile of rocks, but the offerings were still accepted so he took it as a sign of approval. Before, he always ate his meals on the edge of camp, as far away from everyone as he could get while still being in camp. But then he remembered that he didn’t give a shit and would wander further into the woods before sitting down to eat.

Now, it was the same routine but a little less alone. To call some old ass god a friend was a stretch, especially since half of the time it felt more like trying to feed a skittish stray dog, but he enjoyed the time spent “together”. He decided not to think about whether that was an exploitable weakness or if he was going soft and instead tried to enjoy his newfound respite.

Of course, nothing stays happy forever.

When the battle they had been marched towards finally came, Ghost was put on the frontlines, as per usual. This time he felt Different but chalked it up to nerves with feeling like he might have something to lose now.

That morning, he hadn’t received breakfast so the only offering he had been able to provide was a few flowers that were in the area. He felt beyond stupid while picking them, but when they were laid down, the god hadn’t even waited for him to turn away to be able to dramatically accept the offering. They were accepted immediately, with a strong breeze rustling the branches and such an intense feeling flooding through him he’d had to take a step back.

The forgotten god of death likes flowers, apparently.

Within a few hours, he went from wondering if he would now be upgrading his food offerings to include a garnish of whatever flowers he found in the area, to wondering if that would be the last offering the god would ever receive.

The arrow had nestled between plates of his armor, striking him in the lower ribs. He was dying far too slowly for it to have hit anything vital, but he was still dying. He was an okay field medic, but it was that very knowledge that meant he knew he was doomed.

Being nothing more than a weapon, he was not allowed to see the healers the same way everyone else was. As the battle finished with their side unfortunately victorious, he wondered if the general even realized he could be fatally wounded.

The smoke cleared, the injured men were hurried to the medical tents, the general began planning their next attack, and Ghost lay there, dying and forgotten in an open field. He had been looking forward to this moment for so long, but now that he was here, he wondered who would give his god offerings tomorrow. Realizing that in dying, he would be taking the god with him made him feel almost remorseful.

But the darkness was creeping in on his vision and his woes seemed to fall away as did the rest of the world. Perhaps he would be seeing the god soon.

————

He did not expect to wake up, and yet he was staring at the canopy of leaves above him and wondering why Hell looked so nice. When the pounding in his head went away, he sat up slowly, first rolling onto his side and reeling from the pain. When he was able to push himself up into a seated position, he realized that Hell not only looked lovely, but incredibly familiar as well.

Once his vision stopped swirling, he saw that he wasn’t in the afterlife at all, but instead had been lying on the offering table he had just left flowers on that morning. Still barely comprehending what was going on, he scrambled off the shrine. Just because he’d challenge a god to a fistfight doesn’t mean he’s entirely stupid. He still remembers stories that the elders would use to scare him and the other kids — about how anything on the offering table was an offering that could be taken.

He wasn’t interested in becoming a human sacrifice just yet so he fell to the grass and tried to remember what happened. The pain made everything muddied, but he knew for certain he was supposed to be dead. The shrine he had woken on gave some indication of what must’ve happened, though the why of it all was still a mystery.

Would the god of death betray his own domain just for the sake of keeping him alive?

Lifting his shirt and finding a golden scar on what should have been a fatal injury, he found out that yes, yes they would. The pain made it take a good few minutes to stand and he distantly wondered how much power the god had. He’d heard of deities saving their favorite (and in this case, only) follower from the brink of death, but never heard mention of the pain.

He deduced that the god must still be too weak to have done such magic fuckery without repercussions and that the full-body agony must be at least one of those repercussions. As he sat pondering the power level of the being, he went to run his hand through his hair but stopped, feeling something that wasn’t there before.

A flower, tucked behind his ear. One he picked that morning.

The god of death saved him and put a dandelion behind his ear.

————

It wasn't until the next night that he was able to visit the shrine. As expected, he was yelled at for disappearing for several hours but he was too out of it to really hear any of what was being said. The pain would come and go at seemingly random and each spike that made his steps stutter was another reminder of just how close he had been to death.

Waylaid by his duties and own requirements of rest, he finally snuck out with the little dinner he had been given. Part of him was a lot more scared than he’d like to admit, having no idea what the god would want in return for the miracle they’d performed. He really did not want to be indebted to yet another person, much less a god.

It took him much longer than usual to make it to the shrine, slowed by pain and exhaustion. It was pitch black by the time he got there but the area around the pedestal had a slight glow.

He set down his offerings and really hoped it was enough to not incur the wrath of an angry god that felt like they were owed more than they received. His dinner — consisting of a bread roll and salted meat, a true feast — along with some jewelry he was able to pilfer and more flowers was far from what any god would expect in return for such a miracle, but it was all he had to offer.

He took a stuttering step back and bowed his head. He may be a prideful bastard but he’d consider the day a victory if he lived long enough to feel embarrassed. His fingers tingled, the leaves rustled, and he opened his eyes to find— Oh. Hmmm.

The flowers and jewelry were gone, but the plate had more food on it.

Well, that’s… something. He looked up at the sky, wondering if the god was watching him. After some hesitation, he verbalized his question, asking if this meant the offering was rejected.

There was no answer. When he looked back down, the plate had been moved closer towards him. Okay, what the fuck? The food looked kind of shitty, honestly, but looking closer he realized that’s because it was his offerings that he had given.

Still not quite grasping the situation, he slowly grabbed the plate, waiting to see if he’d be struck by lightning. However, no murderous rain clouds spontaneously appeared as it left the altar. He examined the plate. The food was stacked rather precariously; there wasn’t much of it but the randomness of the items ensured it was on the brink of falling.

Was this meant to be a gift? For him? Why would a god continue to give more and more while receiving almost nothing in return?

He took a moment to sit down, definitely out of caution and not pain, trying to figure out if this was what the deity wanted him to do. Tentatively, he grabbed a piece of bread and slowly began eating. He was slowed by the shake in his hands and for once was right in saying it wasn’t from nerves. The shakiness had been persisting ever since he woke up but had gotten better over time. Before, he hadn’t been able to even pick up small items without struggle. It all seemed a small price to pay considering he should’ve died in that field.

As he ate, he stared up at the altar and wondered how a god whose favorite offerings were flowers had gotten such an awful reputation. Lost in thought, he was pulled back to the present as the apple almost rolled off the plate. He caught it, moving to set it in his lap instead, but noticed something that made him freeze.

Someone was there.

He felt it, both the eyes watching him and the domineering presence that had taken up the area. He carefully continued his movements while looking around, alarmed to see nothing there. He took stock of his surroundings, trying to discern what he was sensing. It seemed the god was no longer simply watching him from the heavens.

Not expecting an answer, he asked aloud if the god wanted some of the food, resolutely staring at his plate. He was unused to feeling a divine being near him. It was unsettling.

No.

The answer seemed to materialize from nothing. He hadn’t heard it, hadn’t read it, it didn’t even feel like it had been some kind of psychic fuckery. It just was. Man, gods were weird.

Pushing the limit, he asked if they had a favorite flower.

Whichever you give me.

And then the presence was gone. He was back to eating alone in a clearing. What the fuck does that mean? The weird godly way of talking didn’t provide much in the way of tone. Was it happy? Flirty? Apathetic? Annoyed?

He shook his head and resumed eating. It didn’t matter. Tomorrow would be an even longer day as they pack up and march on.

He needs to get his god more flowers.

#ghost: i shall give you my last morsel as a token of gratitude for saving my life #soap barely clinging on having exerted almost all of his energy in saving ghost: EAT THE FOOD YOU FUCKING DONKEY #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #i am once more ver very aslepe #this may be temporarily removed when i wake udk id it’s too bad but if is it’ll be back up soon after #just hopefultkt more coherent #good night #forgotten death au #(name subject to change lmao)

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nyashykyunnie · 12 hours

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˗ˏˋ Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Player! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, yandere Jinwoo au ]

┈➤ ❝ [ Ｌ　ｏ　ａ　ｄ　ｉ　ｎ　ｇ. . . ] ¡! ❞

You never really thought about it, you just downloaded Solo Leveling's new game out of excitement to want to see your precious Jinwoo on screen. Perhaps you're here to re-experience the story, or maybe you want to help him grow better. Or just watch him entirely.

After all, you played this game to see him.

Leveling him up as much as you can, getting frustrated when you run out of keys, gold and materials to max him out— You became obsessed with this game just as fast you became with the main protagonist,...

Not knowing that he could feel your drilling gaze on him.

Jinwoo really doesn't know how this happened. He just had a good hot shower after finishing a high ranked gate and sprawled on his bed like a starfish the moment he was done with his nightly routine.

Then all of the sudden, he awakened in the body of his pathetic self. The him he hated so much. He wanted to thrash around, feel his face, or even speak. But in the end, he is somehow stuck on making mundane things. Saying cheesy lines that internally makes him wretch.

Jinwoo felt so disgusted when he sees himself in the reflection on the puddles of water. Unkept hair that looks like it hasn't been brushed for days. His small stature lacking any muscles, he's built like a twig and Jinwoo cant help but feel a huge douse of fury washing over him.

He even tries to make contact with his old friends. He cant say or control his body, but he could atleast control the movement of his eyes. He tried staring at Ju-hee's face even. But he soon realized that she's not really there. it's like she's a hollow machine spatting out whatever.

He tried to summon his shadows who were thankfully still with him, but he could tell that his children are all asleep despite him trying his best to wake them up telepathically.

But most of all, he could feel your eyes on him. He could hear your taps against something. It took Jinwoo a bit of time to realize that he himself— Is actually in a game and you are the player, the player that is controlling him like a damn puppet.

He hated it at first really, he could hear your excited squeals and his head even spins when you toss your phone around when he does something remotely basic. When you spin him around he craves to reach his hand out and shake you as punishment for making him go around and around like some sort of carousel.

Jinwoo had no choice but to be patient with you.

Even as he wants to sigh in defeat whenever you level up the wrong stats, even as you prioritize the wrong things, even as you skip reading important tutorials, even as you level up the wrong artifacts when they have the shittiest substats ever.

Really, sometimes, he just internally begs for you to stop playing the game and let him go. Maybe if you stop, he would wake up and go back to his mundane everyday life.

Though to his dismay, you kept playing everyday ceaselessly. Leveling him up, getting excited over events, feeling victorious whenever you win even with your ridiculously poorly built weapons and artifacts or pulling something good in the gacha system.

At least you're trying to take good care of him in a way, he appreciates that somehow.

But the more time spent, the more Jinwoo is learning.

While you're oblivious to everything and just blindly charging head-first in the game. Jinwoo spends that time learning about you.

He knows at least that he isn't someone real in your world, and he is nothing more than a figment of someone's imagination.

And most importantly, he is apparently your favourite character.

The thought of it made him shudder with cringe honestly.

Like come on, seriously?

Choose better you dimwit.

Of course, that sent him in a whole spiral of existential dread. Even as he isn't in a mood for anything. He cant really voice it out or do anything about it since you are technically his master and he is depresisngly bound to do whatever you wish.

Ah, but who is he again? Jinwoo.

Sung Jinwoo, The Shadow Monarch.

Just like before, Jinwoo will swallow the system. But this time, he's not just going to hack the game code— He will swallow your entire phone system.

Take it as a revenge for making him live through his E-ranked days again.

... At least that's what he plans but instead he craved to wash his eyes out with soap.

The amount of edits you have of him in your phone, the many many screenshots of him you have in your gallery— God, he just wanted to die actually.

Then again, he died a number of times and still woke up again so he's just pulling his leg here.

As frustrating it is, Jinwoo wa slowly finding himself getting attached to you.

From dreading your daily log-ins to actually looking forward to the time you log-in. He even memorized the exact time you usually open the game.

With his little tinkering here and there, he started helping you out with your gacha luck. From usually hitting hard pity to get something good to suddenly frequently having red appear despite being at low pity.

He cant really intervene with the system blindly since you will get suspicious so he starts manipulating the codes into making you have better artifacts and substats. You're not that stupid to keep the shitty ones anyway so he's thankful for that.

Slowly, slowly, Jinwoo's mind deteriorated from simple endearment to outright obsession in a span of a few days or weeks— He can't really tell when he started to become attached to you, his dearly beautiful master.

It never really sunk in how much he adored you until you opened another game you've stopped playing because of him. Jinwoo was so infuriated he almost made your phone shut down since he was in charge of it's system now.

He badly wanted to destroy your account in that game but refrained from doing so since he didn't want you to become upset.

Through hovering around in the code like a boogeyman, he could see that you display signs of attachment to these insignificant characters.

These damn fools aren't even aware of your affections and are just hollow dolls made up of codes. They're nothing more than fools just doing whatever the fuck they were programmed to do.

Jinwoo gets increasingly pissed off when you grind someone else's materials, when you giggle and kick around whenever you hear and read a line from them. Veins would pop angrily from Jinwoo's jaw, almost as if they could burst any moment.

But he had to keep his cool.

He had to endure them since atleast they're making you happy even if he entirely hates the premise of something else stealing your smiles away from him.

Jinwoo behaved relatively well until you decided to abandon him just to grind for another goddamn character you're pining to get.

Jinoo prayed it'll only be for one day, but soon lost his mind when you decided to ignore him for a total of 2 weeks just to get that fucking bastard home. He found it so disgusting that someone else dared to be the apple of your eye. That fucker made you hit hard pity when he in comparison just gives you whatever you want. It fucking pissed him off on another level.

Of course, you decided to pop right back in the moment you get that character from another game.

But Solo Leveling suddenly felt weird.

The game wasn't really buggy or anything, it looked normal but somehow— Somehow, you could feel a pair of eyes watching you the whole time. it was an eerie feeling but you just shrugged it off as you having a weird sense of gut feeling.

But ah, it started to make you feel horrified whenever you play the game.

You try to move to another game, but somehow you cant get them to open. You tried to reinstall and install again but it wont budge. Even as you moved to another device it wont work.

All your games wouldn't work except for Solo Leveling itself.

Left with no other choice, you start grinding him again.

You often forget that weird feeling you have stirring in the pit of your stomach.

However, sometimes, you could catch a glimpse of Jinwoo's eyes— Glancing right back at you even when you didn't manipulate the screen into making it that way.

You shrug it off as a weird bug in the game or your eyes just casually playing tricks on you. But one day when you left your screen hanging for a few minutes since you had to do some chores, you go back just to see Jinwoo's grey eyes staring at you. Even as you try to move around, his pupils would follow your movement like a hawk. Back turned, a form straight and poise— You are sure that he really is looking at you. Attempting to exit the game was to no avail, since your screen would freeze.

Turning off the button served no purpose either.

And finally, Jinwoo would move on his own, his tailcoat swishing around as he finally turns to meet your gaze with purple orbs glowing so eeriely like the devil reincarnated.

His mouth would move, mouthing so sweetly with his deep voice vibrating through your whole body "You really should have just stayed put, otherwise, I wouldn't have resorted to this." A hand would suddenly burst from your screen a strong hand firmly holding your wrist. Long and elegant digits were on your skin now, the grip so firm it made you shudder. You weren't given any time to panic or scream for help as you were suddenly yanked in roughly but also gently. Your eyes would be shut tight, your body shivering from fright as the strong hold on your wrist still stayed.

Then, an arm would find it's way around your waist— Making your orbs shot wide open as they now once again meets with another's gaze.

The gaze you have been staring for so long, the slanted deep eyes the were seemingly carved out of the finest gemstones, eyebrows steady and straight as if it were drawn by the most talented artist, his nose and jawline perfectly angled that felt like it was god himself who carved this divine appearance so that no man could ever match against his unflawed features. Jinwoo.

Sung Jinwoo

"Locking you out of your other accounts worked at first, but then it started to rub me wrong," Jinwoo starts, his deep voice seeming to echo inside your eardrums as he shifts your hand to his chest where you can feel two distinctive heartbeats drumming against his ribcage. "Maybe I'm guilty for making you frustrated, after all, you tried your best to get into them just to see those pesky imbeciles."

He then continues, "Of course, I could always lift the binds that I placed down. But even the idea of your pretty eyes looking at something else set me off"

"So instead of making you suffer with bullshit you shouldn't, I decided it's high time I bring you home with me. After all, you've always been begging for me, I'll grant your wish."

With a firm grasp around your chin now, he pulled you close, his lips crashign against yours for a heated kiss. Your heart would leap out of your chest, each flick of Jinwoo's tongue tickling and swirling against yours making your inside itch to burst. As you both floated in the dark abyss, your thoughts are put into a screeching halt as Jinwoo continues his assault on you. Each rub of his slender fingers made you shudder, one arm still firmly around your waist while the other tangled itself in your locks to gently massage your scalp in order to make you melt into his embrace once more. The more he kissed you so lovingly and possessively— The more the light behind him grew stronger.

And as it engulfed the both of you in it's cold embrace— Your conciousness was eaten away.

The next thing you knew, you are awake in Jinwoo's bed with the hunter himself cradling you in his arms while on his phone.

He had wrapped you in his blanket in a cozy way, one hand still playing with the back of your head as he kept it resting on his shoulder like a pillow.

"You're awake," Jinwoo cooes, tossing his phone down lazily as he presses his lips against your forehead sweetly. "It's still early in the morning, go to bed, we'll talk later about your new life and some... Rules you're going to be living with now. But you'll be good and follow them for me, right?"

#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling x reader #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #yandere sung jinwoo

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catherinnn · 2 days

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But Daddy I Love Him!!!

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader based on "But Daddy I Love Him" by Taylor Swift. words: around 2k warnings: angst if you squint, fluff!!! so many taylor swift references, overprotective parents, no use of y/n, happy ending.

masterlist

You knew that once you made your relationship with Eddie Munson public people would lose it. That’s why you’ve been postposing it until you were both really sure about this. But it’s been six months already, and they have been the best six months of your entire life.

Never has any other boy made you feel this way, so comfortable, so confident, so in love. He was chaos and revelry in the best was possible, not like these other boys your parents had set you up with over the last years, just because they’re friends with their parents. He was the complete opposite of those boring boys, he had long and messy hair that you love playing with; he dresses in total black with ripped jeans, leather jackets and shirts with monsters painted on them; he’s loud and fun and hilarious; he’s so pretty and so hot at the same time.

There is no doubt of the way he makes you feel and you’re tired of hiding it. So yes, you knew it was going to be controversial walking in hand by hand, letting him hug you from behind whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you grab your things from your locker and kissing him goodbye before separating to each’s classes for the whole school to see. But you weren’t expecting World War Three.

“There you are, pretty girl” he greets you again at lunch.

“Hey you” you greet him back and go to kiss him, wrapped up in your own world when you’re interrupted by a fellow cheerleader behind you.

“Stay away from her!” Sarah protested. You both look at her in shock.

“What?” Eddie asks confused.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing to her, stop it!” she demands angrily, it’s kind of funny.

“Sarah, what do you mean?” you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes mid-sentence.

“What’s going on?!” she asks in complete confusion.

“He’s my boyfriend, he’s not doing anything wrong to me” you explain to her—actually, to the whole cafeteria who’s just as confused and angry as Sarah is.

“What do you mean your boyfriend? Honey, he’s…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, shooting you a look that speaks volumes, her eyes widen and her eyebrows as if saying You know exactly what he is.

Eddie starts giggling but hides his face in your shoulder trying to act modest. You fail to hide you smirk.

“He’s my boyfriend and I love him. I don’t really see the issue here” you put an end to the conversation and walk to his table where he starts introducing you to his friends.

“What a mess” Hannah whispers to Sarah while playing with her pearl necklace.

However, the real problem started when you got home, one that could not be ignored by just laughing about it.

Sarah and Hannah had talked to your parents about Eddie and you. And your dad did not like those news at all.

“You can’t see him anymore, this nonsense stops right now” he demands.

“But daddy, I love him!” you scream.

“Love? You can’t love someone like him. You’re acting crazy, come to your senses and don’t be a fool!”

“No, I’m not coming to my senses. Please, you don’t understand! Just try to get to know him at least!”

“For the love of God, he is crazy! Don’t you see it?” he exclaims

“But he’s the one I want” you cry.

“No! Go up to your room now, I don’t want to listen to this anymore” he didn’t let you say one more word as he slammed the door in your face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you hear Eddie’s concerned voice through the phone.

“Can you come over? Please” you don’t explain just yet, you just needed him here.

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten” he doesn’t even stop to think about it, immediately saying yes.

“Climb through my window, I’ll leave it open”

That night you only managed to sleep thanks to him, he was the one giving you the peace and calming that you needed. He was the one making your heart flutter.

And for that reason you decided you would not give up so easily. You could not just give up on this thrill he brought into your life, your wild boy and all of this wild joy.

This is why your judgmental ‘friends’—if you could even call them that—still had things to say about your relationship.

“We just want what’s best for you”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that” you started, acting reluctantly, “I’m pregnant”

Every single one of them yelled a perfectly synchronized ‘WHAT?!’And you nodded.

“I’m having his baby” you admitted and they looked at you horrified and shocked, you couldn’t contain you laughter anymore. “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”

“We are not joking around! Could you take this seriously?”

“Girls, if all you want is boring and insignificant for me, then it’s just meaningless and it’s still my choice to make” you explained, starting to think that they’re not ‘trying to save you,’ they just hated you.

“But think about your reputation. What would people say about you?”

“I’ll tell you something, it’s still my name and mine alone”

“Please, just think about-“

“Oh my god! I swear, I’d rather die right now than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning! Really!” you interrupted them and without letting them say one more word, you finally left.

For the next month you had to sneak around to be able to see Eddie, since your dad had forbidden you to ever see him again. Obviously, that wasn’t even a choice. You were going to see him whether your dad likes it or not. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

So you get out of your house after lying to your parent telling them you were meeting one of the girls for a project. Your mom looked at you warily because she noticed the pretty dress and the make-up you were wearing, but she didn’t say anything about it. She wasn’t the judgemental person your dad was.

You walked two blocks away from your house and there was that Van you knew all too well by now, waiting for you.

You went to his trailer, you couldn’t really do any other plan for a date. You still couldn’t go out in public much if you wanted to keep seeing him.

“What movie should we watch?” you ask him.

“I didn’t rent any this week, I just have the old ones we already watched” he answers.

“Oh” you mumble as you go through the couple cassettes he has. But he’s right, you’ve already seen those a thousand times. He hears your sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t think we would have to keep hiding here even after telling everyone about us” he explains.

“I know Eddie, but- I’m dead if my dad finds out I’m still seeing you” you insist but he doesn’t say anything back. He’s dozing off thinking about something.

“What if I just go talk to him?” he proposes after a few seconds.

“What?” you question him in disbelieve. He can’t mean that literally.

“No really, what if he meets me in person? I could talk to him, introduce me, do all that ‘what my intentions with your daughter are.’ Maybe he’ll come around”

“That won’t work with him Eddie, it’s just gonna be a really unconfutable moment between you two. Believe me, I know him” you explain.

“But what other choice do we have? Are we just gonna keep hiding until you move out?” he questions.

“I- I don’t know, but at least this way I can still sneak around and see you. If I keep insisting with this, he’s just gonna lock me in my bedroom forever” you started getting nervous. You were so stressed out that no one would believe or even listen to you when you want to explain how Eddie actually is to you.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m always gonna be here” he calms you down by hugging you. Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer.

When Sunday comes around, you were setting the table to eat with your family, your dad cooking the meat on the grill, your mom dressing the salad. You hear a knock on the front door, but you weren’t expecting anyone today.

“Honey, can you get that?” you mom asks you.

When you open the door, your eyes must be deceiving you, it has to be that. You’re just imagining him because you miss him and he’s just always on your mind.

“Hey” he softly greets you noticing the surprise on your face. And you confirm you’re not imagining anything.

“What are you doing here?!” you whisper-shout at him.

“Okay- I know you told me not to do this, but I really think it could work. Just give me a chance sweetheart, I mean… my charm worked with you after all, maybe it’ll work on them as well, who knows?” he winks playfully.

"Honey! Who is it?" your mom appears from behind you to see. Eddie presents himself politely, giving her flowers even.

"Oh, thank you Eddie, I didn't know you were coming over" she comments confused.

"I just wanted to introduce myself so you could actually get to know me, and not what... some other people say about me" he explains calmly. He acting so respectful that you're biting your tongue to not make fun of him.

"Of course dear, come in" and just like that, he has your mom absolutely delighted with him.

But as I said, your dad is the tough one.

Eddie goes outside to talk to him, he asks you to leave him go alone for a second and that he'll call you if he needs you.

You let him go by himself but still, you're standing at the door spying on them. You can't hear anything, but you see Eddie talking and your dad listening with a straight face. He's acting tough to intimidate him. But Eddie doesn't seem faced by it, he's just explaining something in the nicest way possible. If the hellfire guys were here to see him, they would never let him live this down.

"Honey, don't bite your nails" your mom tells you after a while.

"I'm just really nervous"

"I know, they've been talking for a while now" she agrees, "want me to go see how it goes?"

"Or should I go?" you start questioning but as if you had called them, your dad and Eddie walk in. You look at them expectantly.

"Can you help me outside?" your dad asks you and you nod quickly. You try to read Eddie's face but he seems relaxed, could it be?

After going outside he stands in front of you and takes a few seconds to choose his next words.

"I'm sorry"

"What?" you whisper. You can't believe what you just heard.

"I owe you an apology for not listening to you when you explained it" he starts, "and I owe him and apology for misjudging him"

"Really?"

"Yes dear, I hope you can forgive me and... I just want you to be happy, and I can finally tell that he is one who makes you happy" he admits and you go hug him before you even think of it. Somehow, now even your daddy just loves him.

Eddie stays for dinner that day and it's beautiful to see them all getting along. You separate from your old friends and find new ones who don't judge you and actually care about you and not what other's might think. Eddie and you stay together and finally have dates outside of his trailer or your room. You officially meet Wayne and he adores you, but Eddie's not surprised about that, he knew it wouldn't take much giving how adorable you are. People still have things to say about you two but you learned not to care about it.

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